Jaime’s eyes said, “I hate you.”
Jessa prayed her eyes conveyed, “You’re late, bitch.”
“Why are we even going through all this drama when there’s no proof she’s even pregnant?” Jaime asked, her eyes still locked with Jessa as she reached down into her bag on the floor and slapped a pregnancy kit on the table before sliding it across the table to Jessa with plenty of force.
Jessa smirked as she easily shifted and allowed the box to go spinning off the table to the floor behind her. “Silly bitch,” Jessa mouthed, making sure the other woman could read her lips.
Jaime jumped up to her feet, but her attorney reached his hand out to steer her back down into her seat.
Jessa never flinched. She absolutely refused to let her enemy see her sweat even if her entire body was a riot of nerves.
“Ms. Hall, your attorney has a copy of the medical report confirming that Ms. Bell is indeed pregnant,” Lincoln told her. “You do agree that the time frame matches up to the time that you discovered Ms. Bell was involved in an intimate relationship with your husband?”
Jaime’s lawyer whispered something in Jaime’s ear before she said, “Yes, Mrs. Bell made sure to alert me to the fact that she was sleeping with my husband.”
“What were your husband’s thoughts on having children ?” Lincoln asked, making notes on his legal pad.
“We were waiting to have children. Our life was mapped out and kids wasn’t on the schedule for a few years,” Jaime said, looking and sounding belligerent.
“But you do believe that your husband wanted children?”
“With me? Yes,” she stressed. “With a mistress? No.”
Jessa fought the urge to throw out a snide remark.
“Do you think if your husband was aware of the child that he would have made provisions for the baby in the will?” Lincoln asked.
Jaime smirked and shook her head. “I can’t speak for a dead man who didn’t make the best decisions ... obviously.”
Lincoln reached for Jessa’s hand under the table and patted it reassuringly. It was balled into a fist with her red lacquered nails nearly piercing the flesh of her palm. His small show of comfort evoked emotions in her that caused tears to fill her eyes. She blinked them away.
“But you do acknowledge that there is a possibility that Eric Hall is the father of Jessa Bell’s baby?” Lincoln asked, redirecting his line of questioning.
“What I acknowledge is that I cannot believe a woman I called friend is so low and so slack to actually sue me behind this bullshit, as if fucking my husband behind my back wasn’t enough?” Jaime chewed out, her eyes blazing as she glared at Jessa. “Are you obsessed with me? Do you want to be me, Jessa? First Eric, then Pleasure, and now you want the inheritance my husband left me.”
Jessa laughed at her. A good rich, belly laugh that was completely mocking and definitely letting Jaime know just how foolish Jessa Bell thought she was. “Jaime, please, you don’t even know who you are or what you want, so who can mimic you—a grown woman in her thirties going through the self-discovery that most women make in their late teens. Please, don’t be silly.”
“Ladies, please,” Jaime’s attorney said. “The sooner we finish this deposition the better, so that you two can return to your corners.”
“I agree,” Lincoln said before leaning over to whisper in Jaime’s ear.
“Just keep cool, Jessa, this is almost over,” he said.
She nodded.
“If you are truly interested in continuing with this matter, I think that not only proof of pregnancy is necessary but also proof of paternity,” Jaime’s lawyer said.
“Postnatal, not prenatal; there are too many risks to the pregnancy,” Lincoln insisted.
“You expect us to wait all those months until she gives birth ... then she should have waited to bring this matter up at all,” Jaime’s attorney scoffed. “I am sorry, but if you continue forward with this, we will request a court-approved paternity test as soon as possible.”
“So that means your client is willing to give permission for exhuming the body?” Lincoln countered.
“No, I am not,” Jaime stressed. “Why am I taking on the burden of my husband’s bastard?”
Jessa jumped to her feet and picked up her glass of water to throw in Jaime’s face in one swift movement that the woman didn’t see coming until her face and hair were all wet.
Jaime gasped and then knocked her glass of water across the table to send water splashing against some of Lincoln’s papers and Jessa’s black pencil skirt.
“All right, counselor, that’s it. Let’s go, Jaime.” Her attorney gathered his papers into his briefcase and grabbed Jaime’s elbow to escort her out of the conference room.
“Jessa, you two cannot act like this during a professional meeting,” Lincoln scolded her as he used a napkin to absorb some of the moisture from his papers. “Come on. Throwing water? You’re a grown-ass woman. What you been watching, Basketball Wives?”
“I apologize, Lincoln,” she told him truthfully as she dropped back down into her chair. “She brings out the worst in me.”
“I thought you told me you’re going to church and reading the Bible and trying to get saved?” Lincoln sat down in the chair next to her again. “I’ve seen all the contracts and know about the money—the good money—you’re making recently. I know about the insurance policy Marc left. These people want you to risk a miscarriage to prove the paternity. Man, let this shit go.”
Jessa said nothing as she turned her head to look out the window.
Soon Lincoln gathered up his papers and walked to the door. “Stay as long as you want; they don’t need this conference room until after lunch,” he said before leaving.
Once Jessa finally took her leave from Lincoln’s office she headed straight home and spent the rest of the day in bed. She felt like she needed to rejuvenate mentally and physically. She didn’t spare one thought on Jaime and the impending lawsuit. She gave herself a vacation from it.
The next morning she packed her bag and waited for her car service to arrive to drive her into New York for her week of business meetings and promotions. Leaving her bags by the door, she made herself a small bowl of cinnamon and brown sugar oatmeal with lots of walnuts as she took her prenatal vitamin. That reminded her to pack it, and she was just sticking the bottle into her purse when her cell phone rang.
Jessa pulled it out and answered the call. “Morning, Keegan,” she said, looking through the large window over her sink at Aria walking Kingston to his car. Her belly was round in the robe she wore as Kingston kissed her neck intimately before bending to kiss her belly as well, then climbing into his car and reversing out of the driveway. Aria stood there and watched his car until it was out of sight before she turned and made her way back up the stairs and into her house.
They were the picture of happily ever after. A team. When she gave birth he would be there to support her, coach her, and love her through it.
Who will be there for me?
“Can you believe that Viagra addict is denying his affair!”
Jessa leaned back from the phone as Keegan screeched in anger. “Whoa! What happened?”
“My shitty ex-husband is saying he left the marriage because I was no longer satisfying him in any aspect and he is denying having an affair.” Keegan sniffed and Jessa knew she was crying. “He is trying not to pay me major alimony. That lying, limp-dick, cheating son of a bitch.”
Jessa made a face. “I’m sorry, Keegan. What are you going to do?” she asked, tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder as she emptied the steaming oatmeal from the small pot and into a bowl. “Do you have proof he cheated?”
Jessa paused at the hilarity of the conversation for a moment. A former mistress advises an ex-mistress turned wife on how to prove the existence of her husband’s mistress. If she wasn’t in the middle of the conversation, she would side-eye herself.
“No, but I wish I did, sugar drop,” Keegan sighe
d. “That bastard just left here—”
“Huh?” Jessa asked. “He just left there? It’s not even eight o’clock. In your words, dah-ling, something in the milk ain’t clean.”
“I was horny and he came by last night and a piece of me wanted him to stay the night and make that bitch wonder where he was.”
“So you play yourself by fucking the limp-dick, cheating son of a bitch and then he got up this morning and denied he ever cheated?” Jessa asked her before taking a big bite of oatmeal.
Keegan sighed heavily. “It doesn’t feel good getting screwed twice,” she drawled, sounding Texan.
“Maybe he’s not with that particular woman anymore but still wants the divorce,” Jessa offered around a sip of tea.
“Or he’s with someone new.”
“Or open to someone new,” Jessa countered, sprinkling more nuts over her oatmeal.
“I can’t believe him and I still got the taste of his cum in my mouth!”
Jessa frowned and gagged a little before pushing the oatmeal away. “Damn, how horny were you?”
“Horny and out to prove a point.”
“Not a good combo.”
“Sure ain’t.”
“Listen, I’m headed into New York and my car service should be on the way,” Jessa told her, rising to empty her bowl and wash it. She also was bored with the convo and ready to focus on her own worries. “Hire a private detective. If you need a referral I can e-mail you the contact info of the guy I use.”
“Send it and enjoy New York.”
Jessa nodded. “I will. Oh, and keep your legs—and your mouth—closed to his dick.”
Keegan just laughed before hanging up.
Jessa’s landline rang. She scooped up her cordless. “Yes, Lucky.”
“Acclaimed Car Service is here.”
“Let him up.”
Jessa turned off the lights in the kitchen and walked in her sequined flats to the front door. As soon as she opened the door she was glad for jeans she normally avoided and a black cashmere wrap as she felt the slight chill in the air. The black SUV came up the street and turned into her empty driveway. She had parked her Jag in her garage. Jessa set her bags on the step and locked her door before securing the alarm with the new key code. It wasn’t until recently that she remembered Aria knew her passcode.
The driver opened the rear door of the SUV and helped her in before getting her bags. Soon they were rolling out of Richmond Hills and Jessa looked around wondering if maybe it wasn’t truly time to say good-bye to it for good.
Jessa loved the fast-paced vibe and energy of New York. As soon as she settled into her suite at the W Hotel on Park Avenue South she took a long shower and changed into a long-sleeve stretch silk blouse and a pair of wide-leg trousers, both in a soft lilac. There wasn’t much more she had to do to prepare for her meeting with Myra and her new literary agent.
Locking her valuables into the safe, Jessa grabbed her oversized clutch, tucked it under her arm, and left her suite. She was riding down on the elevator when it glided to a stop on the fifth floor. She looked up and her face filled with surprise to see the captain of the yacht she chartered in the Hamptons step on. He looked handsome in a navy tailored suit and crisp white shirt open at the neck.
Jessa’s clit throbbed with new life.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Not a walk of shame is it, Captain?” she asked with teasing in her soft husky tones.
He smiled as the elevator door closed behind him. “Surprise, surprise,” he said.
Jessa’s heart beat rapidly, but she played it cool. “Yes, it is. Yes, it is.”
“No walk of shame,” he said. “I had a meeting with someone wanting to buy one of my boats.”
“I hope it went well,” she told him, the smell of his cologne just enough to tease the senses and make you want to bury your face in his neck and get lost. “I have a meeting downstairs as well.”
Tyson smiled. “I hope that goes well.”
Jessa held up crossed fingers.
“Maybe we can go to dinner to celebrate ... or commiserate,” he offered as the elevator door opened up into the elaborately decorated lobby.
Jessa stepped off the elevator and looked up at him.
“It’s just dinner.”
“Yes, but why if it’s not going anywhere?” she asked.
“Because you look damn good in and out of a bikini.”
Jessa arched a brow. “That is true,” she joked.
“Just dinner,” he offered again.
Jessa couldn’t lie that she was used to the company of a man and missed it. Not for sex entirely but also the flirtation. The banter. The enjoyment. Just dinner.
“How about the restaurant here at eight?” she said.
“See you at eight.”
With one last smile, Jessa turned and quickly made her way to Olive’s, the two-story restaurant located in the hotel. She spotted Myra rising to her feet and the maître d’ led her to the table where the New York sun gleamed through the windows. That and running into Tyson elevated her mood.
“Hello, ladies,” she said, setting her clutch on the empty chair before taking the seat the maître d’ held for her.
“Jesse Bell, this is Olivia Young. Olivia, this is Jessa Bell, your new client,” Myra said, her eyes excited and bright behind her spectacles.
Jessa shook hands with the tall and plump woman who was dark, lovely, and fashionable with hair that was shiny, wavy, and pulled up into a top knot that emphasized her wide-set eyes. Very Angie Stone.
“It’s nice to finally meet you in person,” Jessa said, admitting to herself that she was nervous. Everything about her life was so new and foreign to her. She was using every minute to learn and readjust.
“You as well ... and we have some celebrating to do,” Olivia said as their waitress came to their table. “Two mimosas with Veuve Clicquot and a sparkling cider.”
Jessa felt anxious. Good news.
“We have three offers on the table, and all three publishing houses are very eager and aggressive in acquiring your book, Jessa,” Olivia said. “Now, they all want the full story, though. Everything leading up to the affair, the stalking, the attempted murder, the pregnancy and the lawsuit, and details on how you have turned it all around and found God. But for all those wonderful details we are looking at a high six-figure advance.”
Jessa’s heart pounded as their waitress brought their drinks. Jessa hurried to take a deep gulp of hers. A book deal? A six-figure book deal? What in the fuck was the world coming to?
“Now you’re making your scandalous life into a business. Some kind of Mistress, Incorporated or some bullshit. ”
Fuck you, Aria, she thought, raising her glass in toast to the women.
Mistress, Inc. was sounding real good right about now.
Jessa gasped hotly as she felt her climax cause the walls of her pussy to vibrate and pulse against the length of Tyson’s condom-covered dick as he pressed a heated kiss to her neck. Her entire body tingled even as she felt herself free-falling back to reality.
She breathed through pursed lips as Tyson rolled over onto his back trying to catch his own breath. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.
“Damn,” he swore, his hand over his heart.
“Are you okay?” Jessa asked.
She did not need a chapter in her life—or her book—dedicated to giving a man a heart attack after she swore she was saved and trying to live right. Just my damn luck.
“I’m good” he said, still breathing heavy.
Jessa sat up in bed and pulled the sheet up to cover her sweat-soaked breasts. “Listen, Tyson. Thank you, but I really need to get some sleep now. So if you could gather your things and ...”
“Take my walk of shame?” he asked.
Jessa smiled bashfully. “Look, dinner was good. Conversation was nice. The flirting was fun. But this is not what I had planned for the night. As good as it was—and it was good—the night is over.”
Tyson nodded and kicked the
covers back. “Just use me up and toss me away, Jessa Bell,” he said jokingly, standing up and walking naked across the room to pick up his pile of clothes from by the door.
Jessa had stripped him as soon as they shut the door. She dropped her head into her hands at the heated memory. She hadn’t had a one-night stand since college.
God’s just shaking his head right now... .
Jessa kicked back the sheet and walked naked across the room to the bathroom. She locked the door and immediately dropped down to her knees.
“Oh God, I am so sorry.”
Jessa’s eyes were closed tight and her hands were folded under her chin as she pressed her knees against the cold tile. “I will fast. I will read an extra chapter in the Bible every night and sign up for Joel Osteen’s daily word and donate a portion of the proceeds of my book to charity. I will pay my tithes,” she prayed vehemently. “Please, just forgive me for going back on my word to stay celibate until I marry. God, please, you know me and you know I am trying.”
By the time Jessa finished her prayers and finally climbed from her knees with a heavy breath, ten minutes had passed and Tyson was gone.
“What the hell am I doing?” she asked herself out loud as she dropped down on the side of the bed. “I’m pregnant, for God’s sake.”
Jessa spotted the note on the nightstand. She picked it up and read it out loud:
“The only way to get over the horror of a one-night stand is to do it all over again. Call me. 973-555-0987. P.S. Did I top the glass one?”
Jessa just shook her head and let the note drop to the floor.
Chapter 11
Jessa spent the next morning deep into retail therapy. She hit all her favorites from Gucci and Prada to a full tour around Saks Fifth Avenue. But out of all the shoes, clothes, and jewelry she splurged on, the purchase she loved the best was the jumbo-sized plush vanilla teddy bear she bought and had shipped to her house. Everything about it screamed nursery, and she could see it snuggled in the corner of the crib or on the floor for her child to play and climb on once they began to toddle.
Mistress, Inc. Page 14
