The Certainty of Deception

by Jeanne McDonald

  I dropped into my chair and stared out the window. Dark clouds hung low over the gulf. The rain had stopped for a while, but the clouds refused to disappear. The tide swelled, crashing against the shore. I watched as the wind swayed the palm trees that shaded the coast. My mind drifted back in time to a day, much like this. McKenzie, dripping wet, her eyes filled with desire, as I made her mine for the first time. I rubbed my fingers over my scalp and smiled.

  A quick shake of the mouse brought my computer to life. I opened my email to find the delivery confirmation from the florist. At that moment, I knew a dozen gerbera daisies were sitting on her desk with a note that read: Thinking of you.

  “Drew,” Ethan’s voice resonated from the intercom. “Your father is still holding.”

  I rolled my eyes and picked up the phone. “This is Drew,” I answered.

  “Andrew.”

  The instant I heard my father’s voice, every hair on my body stood on end. “Father.”

  “I understand you had a good day in court today.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Was going to court necessary?” My father had a strict policy; stay out of court if at all possible.

  “Yes, sir, it was.”

  “No settlement could be arranged?” Annoyance colored in my father’s timbre.

  “Not one that was acceptable.” Sure, I probably could’ve settled, but then my client wouldn’t have gotten half of what I procured for her today.

  “Andrew,” the discontent in his tone only disintegrated my ego more, “if you ever wish to run this firm one day, you need to stop acting like a child and think like a lawyer. You gamble with our clients every time you refuse to settle, and while you’ve been lucky so far, that luck will run out.”

  It was futile to argue with my father. Jonathan Wise was known worldwide for being the toughest negotiator alive. I both revered and feared my father.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now,” he continued as though I’d not spoken, “regarding Miss Hamilton.”

  Every bit of my winner’s high was gone. I already knew what was coming.

  “What about her?”

  “Has she consented to the paternity test yet?”

  “Morgan informed her that it’s safe for the baby now, but she’s not yet consented.”

  “Hmm. I see.”

  I bit my tongue. It took everything inside me to maintain my control. My father was baiting me. This was a tactic I knew all too well.

  “I assure you. She will have the test done. You have my word.”

  “Your word is worthless, Andrew. Actions are more valuable.” He paused. My pulse quickened. The man was hundreds of miles away, and still I felt as though I was sitting in front of him, getting in trouble for stealing the Bentley when I was sixteen. “Have you consider what you will do if the test confirms the child is yours. Do you plan to do the right thing by this family and marry Miss Hamilton?”

  I slapped my hand over my face. There was no way in hell I would marry Olivia. McKenzie was the only woman for me. “I’m not marrying her. I’ll draw up a custody agreement, but I refuse to be tied to Olivia by anything more than the child.”

  My father huffed in aggravation. “How is it possible that you’re my son? This type of behavior is unacceptable. Where is your sense of propriety, of duty? Have you not learned anything, Andrew? You have a responsibility as a Wise to maintain the image this family upholds. Traditional family values. You failed me seven years ago. Do not fail me again.”

  Nausea washed over me like a tide. Bile rose in my throat. I swallowed, trying hard to control my breathing. My wonderful day had quickly diminished in the face of Hurricane Jonathan. Leave it to my father to use my past as a bargaining tool. But I wouldn’t let him win; not this time. I didn’t care what tactic he intended to use, I would not marry Olivia. My heart belonged to McKenzie, plain and simple.

  “I will take care of Olivia and the child as promised.”

  “See that you do.”

  Before I could respond, he hung up. Furious, I slammed the phone down. “Asshole!” I yelled, beating the phone down on the receiver over and over again. It felt so good that I slammed the phone down one last time for good measure, grumbling every obscenity I could fathom. Childish, maybe, but it was better than punching my fist through my desk.

  I might be an arrogant prick, but my father was an arrogant asshole. Over and over again, I swallowed back the hatred that threatened to overpower me. When I was finally calm enough to move, I shifted my mouse, brining my computer back to life. I opened up the company instant messenger and quickly typed a message to Ethan.

  Is everything arranged?

  Ethan entered my office without so much as knocking. “Yes,” he stated. He dropped into the seat in front of my desk, crossing his legs. Bushy dark eyebrows rose, almost disappearing into his slick hair, as he passed a folder across my desk. “Everything you need is in there. You fly out Friday morning with a short layover in Dallas and arrive in Amarillo a little after two in the afternoon.”

  “And Boston?”

  “Also taken care of.”

  “Perfect.” I leaned back into my chair, looking out the window at the heavy clouds. My pulse had returned to a semblance of normal.

  “Your dad just did a number on you, didn’t he?”

  “What do you mean?” I returned my attention to Ethan. He shook his head, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

  “Every time you talk to him you get fidgety.”

  “I’m not fidgety.”

  Ethan nodded toward my hand. In it was an ink pen that I’d been tapping on the desk. I dropped the pen. “It’s adrenaline from court.”

  “If you say so.” He leaned forward, turning around the silver picture frame that held a picture of McKenzie and me together at the beach. My arms were wrapped around her waist, and my chin rested on her shoulder. She was windblown. Her skin pink from laughter. I loved how the sunlight bounced off her hair in the picture. “She’s beautiful.”

  I smiled, picking my pen back up, and started to tap it softly against my desk again. “That she is.”

  Ethan’s lips rose into a crooked smirk, returning the picture to its original position. “I wish I could’ve met McKenzie.”

  “If all goes according to plan, you will. I have full intentions of bringing her back with me.”

  “Going all Neanderthal on her, huh?”

  My pen dropped from my hand, as I jumped up from my seat. “Where did you hear that? Who told you?”

  “Told me what?”

  “Who told you that Mickie calls me her Neanderthal?” Ethan’s lips twitched and his dark eyes danced. “I’m serious, Ethan. Did Andie say something? Or was it Gavin? Who the fuck told you?”

  Unable to control his reaction, Ethan flattened his hands against his stomach, howling in laughter to the point of being breathless. It would’ve been funny, except with each passing second, I had a great urge to deck the bastard.

  “No one told me, Boss,” he chortled. “You said you were bringing her back with you. The way you said it, I imagined you dragging your knuckles and bringing her back by the hair. That’s all, but it sounds like your girl is very intuitive. I like her already”

  I really stepped into that one. But he was right; Mickie knew me better than anyone. Probably even better than I knew myself.

  I dropped back into my chair, taking off my glasses and tossing them onto the desk. I pinched the bridge of my nose and exhaled.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. My father has a way of getting me riled up.”

  Ethan waved dismissively. “Don’t worry about it.” Ethan stood up, adjusting his suit jacket. “Do you still want me to come over tonight?”

  “Yeah. We’re hiding Gavin from Morgan and Olivia tonight.”

  Ethan shuddered at the sound of Olivia’s name. “God, that woman is scary. I realize -”

  I raised my hand stopping him in mid-sentence. “You don’t have to explain.”

 
“I know she’s beautiful, but man, what possessed you to stick your dick in her?”

  I shrugged. I couldn’t begin to count how many times had I asked myself that exact same question. “How many times have you fucked a girl and asked yourself ‘what was I thinking’ afterward?”

  Ethan nodded in understanding. “Far too many, my friend. So, what time do I need to be at your place tonight?”

  I pushed back in my chair, resting both hands on the top of my head. “Around eight.”

  “Eight it is.”

  Ethan left my office, closing the door behind him. I reached for the picture of McKenzie and me, smiling at the way her blue eyes sparkled with happiness. Just four more days, and I’d see my girl again. I could handle four days. I’d lasted this long after all. Four more days wouldn’t kill me.

  Chapter Three

  I bounded down the stairs, taking two at a time. The doorbell rang again. “Coming!”

  Usually Ruby or Wyatt would’ve beaten me to the door, but with my impending travel, I gave them some time off to head to Boston and spend time with their own family.

  “About time you arrived. We’re starving here,” I muttered, landing on the bottom stair with a thud. I threw open the door. There stood a pimpled faced pizza delivery boy, glancing around at the front of my beach house. His long, greasy hair was shoved under a faded baseball cap that resembled the one Jared always wore. Tattoos crept up along his left arm to a ratty t-shirt that appeared as if it had never been washed. In his hand, he held a pizza carrier. Velcro ripped as he opened it.

  “Good evening,” his droll voice lulled. “I’ve got three pizzas, one pepperoni, one cheese, and one ham, bacon, and jalapeno,” he quoted, reviewing the order from the side of the boxes.

  I nodded, pulling my wallet from my back pocket. The specialty order was all for me. The last time McKenzie and I had pizza together, it was what she ordered. I’d really never had an inclination toward jalapenos until she entered my life, but now, I ate them with practically everything.

  “That’ll be $29.08.” He removed the boxes from the pouch, handing them to me as he accepted the cash in my hand.

  “Keep the change.”

  His eyes widened at the hundred dollar bill he now held. It was the first real expression to make an appearance on his face. “Thanks, man. Have a good night.”

  I smiled, giving the kid a single nod. “You too.”

  Closing the door, I dashed back up the stairs, balancing the hot pizza boxes in my hands. By the time I reached the loft, located on the fourth floor, the palm of my hand was sweating and burning.

  The guttural sounds of men laughing and talking echoed into the stairwell as I entered the room.

  “Dude, you should’ve seen his face after he got off the phone with your father. A ghost has more color than Drew did,” Ethan claimed. He took a swig from the amber bottle in his hand. Since alcohol was not allowed past the front door of my house, I kept glass bottled sodas stocked in the loft refrigerator behind the bar.

  “You’re over exaggerating,” I spouted off, tossing the three boxes on the high top table.

  “I highly doubt that.” Gavin reached for one of the boxes, throwing it open and taking a slice from inside.

  I glanced around the room. Jared was missing. “Where’s Jared?”

  Ethan pointed toward the balcony.

  When I moved in, I had the loft turned into one large man cave. A custom-made aluminum pool table sat in the corner, illuminated by track lighting. Catty-cornered from the pool table stood a high top table and barstools that matched the pool table. French doors, much like the ones in my bedroom, opened to the balcony, overlooking the Gulf. To the opposite side of the room, a seventy-two inch television hung on the wall surrounded by a black leather reclining sectional. The perfect spot for playing video games or watching football.

  Jared leaned against the guardrail of the balcony. I expected to see a phone in his hand, because it was there when I trampled down the stairs, but much to my surprise, it was put away. I strolled to the door, sticking my head outside. “Hey, Jared. Pizza’s here.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, but didn’t straighten up. “I’ll be there in just a second.”

  I stepped out the door, taking in the warm summer evening. Heavy clouds drifted in the sky, casting a haze over the moon. The water below swelled with the tide, crashing to the shore in response to the pull of the celestial being trying to regain control of the sky. The air was thick with rain that had yet to fall, leaving our skin feeling damp.

  “We really need this rain,” I said.

  Jared grunted. “Yeah.”

  Deep down, I knew Jared wasn’t a bad guy. My reactions to him were simply preditorial. He loved my girl, and he still had contact with her, where I was extracted from her life. It wasn’t easy for me to befriend him when I envied him.

  We stood in silence, staring out at the water. After awhile, I straightened up. “Pizza’s getting cold.”

  Jared nodded, still saying nothing. I patted him on the back and returned to the room.

  “Everything all right out there?” Gavin asked through a mouthful of pizza.

  “Yep.” I reached for my box of pizza, throwing the lid open. The smell of the warm, gooey cheese and toppings made my mouth water. I pulled a slice from the box and sank my teeth into the saucy goodness.

  “So, you talked to Father today. Why didn’t you tell me?” Gavin reached into my box, extracting a piece.

  “Hey, you don’t eat jalapenos,” I complained.

  Gavin rolled his eyes, biting into the pizza. “Dad. You. Call. What happened?” he sputtered through his mouthful.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “All the usual shit. Father called. His horns came out. I beat the fuck out of my phone. The end.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “You guys talk about your father like he’s Lucifer or something,” Jared evaluated, as he entered the room. He sat down at the table and pulled a slice from my box as well. I rolled my eyes in aggravation. I guess I should’ve ordered more specialty pizzas. Noted for the next time.

  “More like the Antichrist,” Ethan muttered into his root beer.

  “Are they not one and the same?” I questioned.

  Gavin swallowed his bite with an audible gulp. “He’s neither Lucifer nor the Antichrist. He’s simply the best at what he does, and expects nothing but the best of those around him.”

  “Right.” Ethan held the word for a protracted moment. “The one time I met the man, I could swear his face was going to melt off. He’s one scary mother. I couldn’t imagine growing up with him.” Ethan’s expression mirrored that of every employee who’d ever met my father. Terror. Absolute fear. But above all, respect.

  “Well,” I started, swallowing my bite and tossing the crust back into the box, “we tried having an exorcism done, but that didn’t work.” I clicked my tongue, reaching for my root beer. “Then there was the Ghostbusters, those guys from the Ghost Adventures, and even the Winchesters, but no one could defeat the beast.” I maintained a straight face, as I took a drink of my soda.

  Ethan howled in laughter, Jared snickered, but Gavin seemed unfazed by my antics. “Oh, man! I knew I recognized Jonathan from somewhere. Al Pacino played him in Devil’s Advocate,” Ethan chortled.

  I scraped my teeth across my bottom lip, shaking my head. “No, Father’s nothing like Al Pacino.”

  Jared froze in place, a look of guilt flitted across his face. He dropped what was left of his pizza back into the box, and lifted his hips, extracting his cell phone from his pocket. I diverted my eyes, quickly, sucking down a deep breath to calm myself.

  “Why not?” Ethan asked, pulling my attention from Jared who was typing away on his phone.

  “Hmm?” Momentarily confused, I blinked, clearing my head. “Oh, yeah. Father couldn’t be Al Pacino, because that would make me Keanu Reeves.” A mischievous smirk donned my lips. “And I’m much better looking.” />
  “Hey!” Gavin protested. “I’m the first born son; so, I’d be Keanu.”

  Jared placed his phone down on the table, and picked up his half-eaten slice of pizza. “Wasn’t he attracted to his sister or some shit like that.”

  The room broke into laughter. Gavin waved his hands, shaking his head frantically. “Oh, hell no. That’s disgusting!”

  “I’d do your sister,” Ethan countered.

  I stood up, making my way to the wall rack where all my pool sticks were on display. “You’d fuck anything with a pussy. Case in point. You fucked Holly tonight.”

  “Seriously?” Gavin choked.

  Ethan stood up, depositing his empty bottle in the trash, before grabbing another from the fridge. “What can I say? I wanted to see what all the talk was about. Trust me, she’s not that good.”

  “Do you agree, Drew?”

  Taking the chalk cube that rested on the edge of the table, I twisted it over the cue tip. “You’re asking the wrong person. I vaguely remember sleeping with her. All I recall was she sounded like a cat in heat when she came.” I dipped my finger into the round indentation of the chalk, extracting dust and rubbing it between my index and middle fingers as well as my thumb.

  Ethan clapped his hands together, and then pointed at me. “Yes! That’s it! I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what she sounded like. It was the most unattractive thing I think I’ve ever heard.”

  “I’m sure Chewie and Wicket would’ve loved her,” I noted. I lifted the triangle rack away from the billiard balls, and hung it on the wall. Pool was a game I’d always excelled at. I enjoyed the calculations that the body and mind needed to create the perfect shot. My body leaned forward, holding the back of the cue in my left hand while creating a bridge with my right to center the cue for the perfect shot. Precision, alignment, and force were constants in the art of the perfect break.

  Most people tighten their grip in anticipation of the shot, but I knew better. Keeping a loose handle on the stick, I thrust the cue forward, in a spring-like motion. The crack of the cue against the cue ball, followed by the impact of against the other fifteen balls, created the precise domino effect and resulted in a perfect break. Several balls hit pockets, another testament to my skill. “I call solids,” I announced.