Almost Doesn't Count

by Angela Winters

  “And it leads to divorce,” she said.

  “No,” he countered. “Not always. That doesn’t have to be us.”

  “Cady confused why you’re gone and spending weekends with you.” Sherise ran her hand over her face in sheer exhaustion. “I can’t stand to think of her life like that.”

  “It won’t be,” Justin assured her. “We won’t do that to her.”

  “It used to be easy with us,” she said.

  “It’s always easy in the beginning, Sherise.”

  “Why is it so hard now? We were supposed to be on the same page.”

  He looked down, shaking his head. “Things happen. We’re just a little lost. I think we’re both frustrated about the pregnancy and . . .”

  “And what?” she asked.

  He looked back up, and Sherise could see from his expression that this was hurting him deeply. This made her happy. His internal pain told her that he didn’t think he had a right to do this to her, that it hurt him to do this. He did love her. She knew it.

  “It’s my fault,” she said. “I know I . . .”

  “No, Sherise.” He gently placed his hand over her mouth. “Don’t say that. We both have to take blame.”

  She took his hand from her mouth, but still held it in hers. “I can get my shit together, Justin. I promise I can. We can work this out, can’t we? For Cady?”

  “Not just for Cady,” he said. “For us. We’ll work this out for us. I love you, Sherise.”

  He brought her hand to his mouth and gently kissed the back of it. With her free hand, she ran her fingers through his hair as their eyes held each other’s. When his lips came down on hers, she met him with tender passion. She could feel in his kiss, as he pulled her body close to his tighter than he had in a long time, that he wanted her, still wanted her.

  She loved him and she knew he loved her. Justin wasn’t her enemy. She wasn’t her own enemy. It was that woman, Jennifer. Sherise knew if she could get her out of the way, there would be a second chance for her and Justin, a second chance for Cady’s family.

  “Make love to me, Justin,” she whispered as his lips traveled down her chin and to her neck.

  Erica didn’t see Jonah walking toward her area in the office, but she knew he was coming. She heard all of the greeters, formal and informal. Jonah Dolan was a god at the Pentagon.

  Erica wasn’t really in the mood to deal with him. She was stressing out over Nate, and dealing with Jonah’s paternal needs—limited by his political ambition—was just not on her priority list. The fact that Nate hadn’t come home last night again wasn’t helping either.

  “Good morning, Erica,” he said as he approached.

  “Jonah.” She quickly reached for the drug brochures Mabel had given her yesterday and slipped them under the folder in front of her. “What brings you over here today?”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, standing at her desk.

  “Nothing.” She fidgeted with items on her desk. “Just trying to get started. I’m a little behind on my work, and—”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked more sternly this time.

  She looked up at him and could see he intended to persist.

  “Nothing I want to talk to you about,” she answered.

  “Why not?” He walked around the side of her desk. “You’ve been crying, haven’t you?”

  “Jonah.” Erica looked around. “Denise sits right across from me. She’ll be back any second. I think she only went to the bathroom.”

  “I’ll leave if she comes back.”

  “She’s perceptive and nosy. She’ll want to know what was going on.”

  “Stop it, Erica. Tell me what’s the matter.”

  “It’s none of your business.” She fiddled with her hands on her lap, feeling like a child who had been caught and had no choice but to confess. “We discussed this. I don’t like it when you try to play father.”

  “I am your father,” he said. “You can’t expect me not to care.”

  “Back off, Jonah.”

  He reached over her and pushed the folder aside.

  “Stop it!” She quickly tried to grab the brochures, but he snatched them at the same time. She pulled, trying to tear them away from him. “Give those back.”

  “What were you hoping I wouldn’t see?” he asked.

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “Helping a family member on drugs?” He looked at the brochure for one last second before letting go.

  “Dammit, Jonah.”

  “Let me guess,” he said, his voice deepening in anger. “It’s Terrell. He’s on something, isn’t he?”

  “No.” She shoved the brochures in a drawer. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “I would hate it,” he said. “I wouldn’t be surprised, but I would hate anything that hurt you.”

  “Just stay out of it.” She shooed him away from her desk.

  He didn’t move. “It’s Nate, isn’t it?”

  Erica hadn’t expected it, but just at the mention of his name, she began to get emotional. “I can’t do this, Jonah. I’m at work, for Christ’s sake.”

  “Nate is a good kid, Erica.”

  “How would you know?”

  “Achelle raised him,” he said. “And so did you.”

  “Obviously I screwed up somewhere.”

  “How can I help?”

  “No,” she said. “Terrell and I are dealing with this. Please, Jonah, don’t tell anyone.”

  “I would never do that.”

  “Look,” she said, “thanks for offering, but I’ve got it under control.”

  “I don’t think you do.”

  “Either way,” she insisted, “it’s none of your business.”

  “If he’s in trouble, I can help him. Are you gonna turn that down?”

  “Your favors have strings attached.”

  He shook his head. “Not this time. Drugs are serious business, Erica. I wouldn’t play games with that, and you shouldn’t turn down a helping hand when you could lose a loved one to drugs.”

  “Terrell would kill me if—”

  “He doesn’t have to know.”

  “What, do you expect me to lie to him? I’m not like that. We’re not like that.” She noticed the skeptical look on his face. “Not anymore.”

  “Fine,” he said. “Tell him, then. It’s time he gets used to me being a part of your life.”

  She let out a sarcastic smirk. “Easier said than done.”

  “I don’t want to come between you two.”

  “Bull,” she added flatly. “You would love to have that chance again.”

  “Terrell broke you two up all on his own.”

  Erica couldn’t really deny that, but Jonah had to know she was going to pick Terrell’s side over his.

  “I can’t convince you that I mean well,” he continued, “but you don’t doubt my influence. If you need help with something, finding something out, getting someone away from Nate that you think is hurting him, you know I’m the one who can do it. Not Terrell.”

  “I know you have a lot of power, Jonah. That’s what scares me. I don’t want you wielding it and destroying someone’s life in my name.”

  “Even if it means saving your brother?” he asked.

  Unable to come up with a retort, she looked at him for a moment longer, something inside of her urging her to tell him more, to see what he could do. This was Nate after all. He was the only family, real family, she had left, and wouldn’t anything be worth saving him from drugs?

  “I have a lot of work to do,” she finally said. “Can I please get back to it?”

  “If you insist.” He turned and started around her desk. “I will tell you that the first thing you’d want to know is who his newest friends are. They’re going to be the key.”

  “We’re working on that,” she said.

  He turned back to her. “I could do background checks. I could find out anything about anyone. And if it turns out you need this person to
stop having access to your brother, I’m the one that can do that.”

  He started walking away again, but he was walking slowly. It was as if he knew she was going to call his name. She did and when she did, he turned right around and returned to her desk with an eager smile.

  “I just need a name,” he said.

  Billie was pacing her office, trying to figure out what she should do. She’d made progress. She wasn’t completely freaking out anymore, but things still weren’t good.

  Despite playing the kiss she shared with Ricky in her mind over and over again, she still couldn’t believe she’d done it. She had made mistakes in her professional career, but couldn’t remember being so irresponsible. Even worse, while she should have been trying to figure out how to deal with it professionally, her mind kept going back to how much she enjoyed it.

  She wanted to believe that it was because it was wrong—a forbidden fruit—but the more she thought about it, the more Billie realized that she was genuinely attracted to Ricky and there was no getting around that. That kiss had crossed more than a professional line. It had crossed a sexual line. She wanted him and that was an untenable situation.

  How does one back out of a pro bono case? Handing the case over to someone else was not the biggest problem. There was no official case, so they hadn’t met with any opposing side. They had requested the emergency calls, filed complaints, issued a subpoena with the DC Housing Authority, and done their own investigation. They hadn’t gotten so far that getting someone else up to speed on the case would be detrimental to the case or the client.

  No, that wasn’t the real problem. How does one back out of a pro bono case that they begged for, that they told the partners of the firm during their interview they couldn’t wait to get? Most importantly, what reason could she give?

  “Thank you for putting all your faith in me,” she said, “but I’ve fallen for the client. Yeah, we’ve kissed. I screwed up royally, so . . . Yeah, I’ll just get my stuff and go.”

  Billie jumped when the door to her office opened without a knock. It was Richard, her officemate, who had a bad habit of not knocking. Billie knew it was his office, too, but had asked him several times to knock.

  “Are you on the phone?” he asked, as he entered.

  “No,” Billie said, noticing that he wasn’t alone.

  Behind him walked James Fisk and Jackson Snow, the two men running the firm’s white-collar criminal defense practice.

  “Hi,” was all she said, and Billie felt like a stupid girl.

  These men already made her nervous. They were brilliant, extremely confident, and commanding. It intimidated her. And they were the men she would have to tell she needed to pass on Ricky’s case.

  “Nice to see you, Billie,” Jackson said as he leaned against the wall near the door.

  James walked in farther. “Hard at work, pacing?”

  She smiled nervously. “Just thinking.”

  “If you’re not talking to anyone on the phone,” Richard said, walking over to his desk on the other side of the office, “then who were you talking to? I heard your voice.”

  “No one.” She gave him a quick stern look.

  He got the point and shut up.

  “We ran into Richard in the hallway,” Jackson said, “but we were on our way to you.”

  “What for?” Billie realized how awful that sounded as soon as it came out.

  She was panicking now. Something made her believe they knew about the kiss even though it had happened only a few hours ago. Did they have cameras in the offices? There was a rumor they did, just to make sure the associates were working all day and night.

  James frowned. “You seem on edge. Have you taken a break today?”

  “I . . . um . . .” Why was the first thing that popped into her head, Yes, I took a break today and made out a little bit with my client?

  “They want to congratulate you,” Richard said as he sat down in his chair. He spoke slowly as if he realized that Billie was anxious and he wanted to calm her down.

  It worked.

  “Really?” she asked, taking a breath and then managing a generous smile.

  “I just got a call from William Ricker,” James said.

  Billie’s jaw dropped. “The head of the DC Housing Authority? Why is he calling you?”

  “To complain about you.” He smiled proudly.

  “You’ve rattled some chains over there,” Jackson joined in. “James told him that you had the firm’s backing and we were going to pursue this wrongful report case to the end.”

  “He even admitted there might be some problem,” James added, “and wanted us to give them a few days to figure out what was going on.”

  Billie was genuinely pleased. So the day wasn’t a complete disaster. “You don’t think they’ll admit to fraud or bribery?”

  “Of course not,” James said. “And we would have never been able to prove it. The point is that we could prove enough to create a huge problem in the media.”

  “And with the upcoming elections,” Jackson said, “that isn’t what they want.”

  Billie tried to seem self-assured even though she wasn’t feeling that so much. “I think this is a good time for me to amend my complaint and request—”

  “No,” James said. “Just hold on a second. We offered them a few days. We’ll give them that.”

  “Time to make sure their cover-up is clean,” Billie said skeptically.

  “We’re in this to win the case, Billie.” Jackson pointed his finger at her. “We aren’t fighting a war here. Just a battle, and you’re about to win it.”

  “We’re very proud of you,” James added, as he stepped back into the doorway.

  “We’ll keep in touch on this, Billie.” Jackson joined him.

  “Okay,” Billie said enthusiastically.

  She rushed to the door and watched as the men, engrossed in a new conversation with each other, began walking away.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Richard asked.

  She quietly closed the door behind her, turning to him. “I can’t talk about it.”

  “You should be happy,” he said. “You’re getting recognition for doing what you love. You can make a name for yourself and start getting more big pro bono cases. That’s pretty prestig—”

  “You need to knock, Ricardo!”

  He looked perplexed. “Seriously? You mad? You must be mad ’cause you just got ethnic on me.”

  “You never knock.” She hurried over to her desk to make notes on the new status of the case.

  “I’ll try to remember, little miss petite moody.”

  She ignored his teasing as she pulled the case up in the internal database. He was right. She should be happy and she would try to be. With this turn of events, it would be foolish and selfish for her to drop the case. She could see that now. She was going to win, not just for Ricky, but also for the firm. She could probably get some additional cases on the same matter and put an end to this bullying. There was a lot to gain from her sticking with this case and winning it.

  She just had to figure out a way to keep her hands off her client.

  This was all a little too seedy for Sherise’s taste, but one couldn’t be cautious enough when it came to hiring a private investigator to find out exactly who was fucking your husband. So here she was in the dark end of a grocery store parking garage, getting into the passenger side of a Toyota belonging to a woman she had never met before.

  “That was quick,” Sherise said as she settled in and closed the door.

  Beth Martin was a woman in her thirties of Asian and Irish descent. She underplayed her attractiveness, possibly in an attempt to be taken seriously in a male-dominated field, Sherise thought. She was known among some of the social elite in DC as someone you could rely on to be discreet.

  Sherise had gotten her card from a friend almost two years ago who had used her to find dirt on her husband’s political opponent for Maryland state congress. Sherise had the card in her hand j
ust above the garbage before she thought twice about it. You never knew when a girl could use an anonymous friend.

  After making love to her husband again, Sherise had renewed faith that she could save her marriage and believed honestly that getting this woman out of the picture was what was needed. Justin loved her and he felt guilty about what he was doing. That seemed clear to her. She wasn’t going to nitpick, considering her own past. She was going to be a better wife to him, but none of that meant anything if this woman was still in the picture. This woman who was sleeping with her husband as part of a vendetta against her. She was no longer interested in car chases around DC or fruitless Internet searches. She wanted to find out who her target was so she could plan a quick, efficient, and effective attack and get back to the business of her family.

  “This will be quick, too,” Beth said, her voice held a biting tone.

  She handed Sherise a manila envelope.

  “My bill is on top,” she said. “I usually require an advance, but since you were in such a hurry.”

  “I’ll write a check when I get home today,” Sherise said.

  She opened the folder. Under the bill, she saw a report that started with the woman’s name and her address in Texas.

  “I just want to know who she is,” Sherise said.

  “It was easy, actually,” Beth reported. “Jennifer Ross is a Democratic campaign consultant in Dallas. She’s divorced, no kids, and thirty-four years old. When she comes to DC, she stays at the Fairmont, but she used to have an apartment in Bethesda.”

  It bothered Sherise that she had no idea who this woman was. “What else? Tell me more about Bethesda.”

  “She worked for Senator Mason’s and Congresswoman Turner’s campaigns. She wasn’t extremely social, but she ran with a pretty elite set. You’ll see her picture was taken in Capitol File and Washington Life.”

  Sherise flipped through the small number of pages in the folder. “But I searched for her name and . . .”

  “You searched for Jennifer Ross,” Beth said. “She was going by Jen Hodgkins.”

  Sherise felt the shock hit her like a ton of bricks. Just as Beth spoke, Sherise uncovered a photo from Capitol File of Jennifer and her husband dressed in high-end formal wear. The caption read, JENNIFER AND RYAN HODGKINS ATTEND THE DC HEALTHY FAMILIES GALA.