It was just what she needed to end her tears. Thank God for waterproof mascara, she thought as she smiled at him, quite confident she didn’t resemble a fucking raccoon. “I’m sorry. It slipped,” she lied, still swallowing back her tears.
As he looked over his shoulder his eyes locked on her.
Aria was a wife, but she was a woman first and a woman knew when a man wanted her. Lord knew at this moment and time in her life—her marriage—it felt good. Matter of fact, it felt bad, and that felt good.
“Excuse us, Marshall,” Jaime said dismissively with a tight grin that was fake as hell.
“It’s Malcolm—”
“Yeah, uh-huh. Shoo. Shoo.”
Malcolm made a face and turned, ending Aria’s smoky eye contact with him. Suddenly she felt relieved. She’d never cheated on Kingston. Up until today she never had a reason to. Besides, there still was a chance Jessa was joking—in which case Aria planned to give that bitch a real Brick City beat down—or Jessa’s lover wasn’t Kingston—in which case Aria still planned to give her that two-piece.
Aria shifted her eyes to Renee and it pained her to see the way her friend clutched the bottle of Patrón like she needed it.
She shifted them to Jaime, who was busy retouching her already flawless make-up in a gold Chanel mirror. As if looking beautiful when they faced Jessa was going to change a damned thing. Neither Renee’s liquor, nor Jaime’s make-up, nor her own tears were going to change shit.
“Either way, the bitch ain’t shit,” Aria said, slipping right into her comfort zone. “Joking or not. Fucking any of our men. The way I look at it, she stabbed one of us in the back, then she stabbed all of us in the back, because it shows what she is capable of, and I don’t have any room for that in my life.”
“I’m not going to lie and say I’m not ready to get to the bottom of all this,” Renee said in a soft voice as she clutched the smooth rim of the bottle a little tighter.
Aria nodded as she watched the elaborate wrought-iron fence closing Richmond Hills off from any outsiders. In fact, the first row of houses didn’t start for nearly a mile beyond the gate, so there were no worries about random cruisers scoping out the homes starting at half a million dollars. The taxi slowed at the glass-enclosed security booth and Aria lowered the window, knowing they would need to identify themselves to get inside their subdivision.
Sure enough, Lucky, the potbelly, red-faced security guard, walked back to the rear of the taxi. He stuck his head inside. “Hello, ladies,” he greeted them warmly.
“Lucky, have you seen Ms. Bell yet?” Aria asked.
His face was instantly confused. “Ms. Bell? Well, remember she moved today—”
“She moved,” all three women said in unison with plenty of emphasis, obviously shocked as hell.
“You ladies being such good friends, I assumed you all knew she was moving today.”
Renee popped the cork on the Patrón again.
Jaime’s expression remained the same—like the supports of her marriage hadn’t just taken a hurricane-type blow. Still, she reached in her purse for her cigarettes and lit up with shaky hands.
Aria snatched up her tote and dug around for her cell phone as Lucky stepped back and the gates slowly opened for the taxi to pull ahead. Her fingers flew across the touch screen keyboard. “Malcolm,” she called out.
She looked up from the cell phone long enough to see his eyes on hers in the rearview mirror.
“How much will it cost me to have your services for the day?” she asked, rereading the message she’d just typed.
JESSA, ALL GAMES OVER. WHO
YOU FUCKING? WHICH OF THEM
MOTHERFUCKERS LOST THEIR
MIND AND DECIDED TO RUN OFF
WITH YOUR SILLY SILICONE FILLED
ASS? WOMAN UP, BITCH, KEEP IT
FUNKY. IF HE’S YOUR MAN, THEN
CLAIM HIM, HO.
“I would have to call in to my supervisor for a quote,” he answered.
Aria hit Send before she looked up at him again. “Well, you do that, because I may need your services, and it’s much more convenient for you to be around…just in case.”
Their eyes locked in the mirror.
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered with a deference that made her feel powerful. Lord knew a freakfest with a sexy stranger was not the answer to the end of her marriage, but it was one helluva step on her road to recovery.
The text message notification on her iPhone sounded off.
Aria read it and shook her head as anger boiled in her. “I asked that bitch to admit which one of those bastards is running off with her,” she told them.
Renee cried harder and her body shook, causing liquor to slosh over the side of her glass to stain the front of her T-shirt.
Jaime paused with her gloss-stained cigarette just a half inch from her mouth. “And?”
Aria turned the phone so that they could read it for themselves.
GUESS WHO…
JESSA
Today was the day we had hoped and planned for. Today all of my dreams finally would come true. Everything was in place and I couldn’t wait.
With a smile that I knew was wicked, I dropped my cell phone onto the passenger seat of my bright red convertible Jaguar. Relished the feel of the air whipping against my face and the sun beaming down on my warm brown skin as I imagined the looks on their faces. My supposed friends. Humph. Fuck ’em.
Silicone ass? Worn out? What the fuck ever. I didn’t get any complaints. In fact, he loved my beauty, worshipped my body, and fucked me strong every chance he got.
I’m no one’s fool. I knew they tolerated me but they never really cared for me like they did each other. It was hard at times being the only single woman in the midst. Even Aria, my college friend, became more and more distant as she became closer to Renee and Jaime. Deep down I knew they all were afraid their husbands would not only take notice of a fine bitch like me, but take the lead and have me.
Well, one of these high-and-mighty bitches was right. The other two deserved to suffer just a little bit. But their pain would only be temporary. It was the one who would sleep alone in her marital bed for the first time of many times tonight who would know that I was the better woman. I was the woman her husband wanted. I was the woman he would have.
I shivered as I thought of him and I let one of my hands travel down my soft thighs as I spread them. I felt a thrill riding up the Garden State Parkway playing in the slick wet folds of this pussy he loved. I wished he had skipped that fucking fishing trip. Hell, I had all the snapper he needed right here.
I purred as I stroked my clit, but I fought the urge to make myself cum because tonight I wanted all of my energy to make love to him in our bed, in our new home in Saddle River—for the very first time as my man exclusively.
Damn, life was good as hell.
CHAPTER 5
The homes and streets of Richmond Hills were the perfect example of comfortable suburban living. Well-manicured lawns, perfectly maintained homes, and clean streets. Nary a sign of anything out of place. On the outside.
And that was just the way Jaime liked it.
Through her shades she looked out the smudged window at Renee and Jackson’s spacious and pristine brick Colonial and eventually Aria and Kingston’s beautiful Mediterranean three houses down. And then the timeless and classic European-styled structure she shared with Eric.
She fought the urge to shrink down lower in the backseat of the dilapidated yellow taxi as her neighbor Mrs. Thorn-wallow stepped out onto the porch. Jaime didn’t mind using a car service, but she preferred those whose fleets included black Lincolns and not bright yellow banged-up and rusted Chevys.
As Aria instructed the driver to pull in front of Jessa’s brick and stone French country-styled structure, Jaime fought the urge to light another cigarette. She craved the nicotine badly and she hadn’t felt the urge in the last few months since she decided to stop. In fact, she was so cocky and defiant in her pledge not to smo
ke that she felt carrying around the pack meant nothing.
And now this bullshit, she thought, reaching in her purse for the cigarette case.
Jaime smoothed her hands over her flawless weave as she thought the proper thing to do was go home and dutifully wait for her husband to come home…if he was coming home. But in truth she didn’t want to be alone. She couldn’t. Fear was an awful thing to face with nothing around but the sound of mocking silence.
The taxi slowed to a stop in front of Jessa’s home.
“It doesn’t look like she’s moved,” Renee said, still clutching the bottle of Patrón as she climbed out of the back of the taxi.
Aria and Jaime shared a brief look before they too climbed out, both glad to stretch their limbs after the tight ride. “Don’t move a muscle, Malcolm,” Aria said.
Jaime looked between them as they shared another long look. Seeing trouble rising for her friend, Jaime slid her arm through Aria’s and pulled her up the walk to join Renee. “Don’t do something you’ll regret,” she advised her. Trust me. I know.
Aria shifted her eyes to her friend, but said nothing else on Malcolm. “If security says she moved, then she moved,” she said as she pushed her bronzed gladiator sandals into Jessa’s immaculate garden to peer through the window.
“What do you see, Aria?” Renee asked.
Jaime just prayed no one saw them spying. There wasn’t much that went on in Richmond Hills that someone didn’t see. And that thought instantly made Jaime tense. She turned slowly and eyed each of the neighboring houses.
“I wonder if any of them knew about this affair? How many have seen one or all of our husbands sneaking in her house?” Jaime asked in a voice that was filled with wonder. “How many of them knew?”
Jaime didn’t even care that she was revealing her fears and worries. People knowing that her husband had slept with her friend was a far more embarrassing sin to bear.
“It doesn’t matter, the point of it is none of us saw it,” Renee snapped. “She was our friend and we didn’t have a clue.”
But was that true? Jaime nearly bit off her MAC lip gloss. Had there been signs they missed…or even ignored?
“I’m going in,” Aria said suddenly, tramping through the flower bed to head for the front door.
Renee held up her hand. “I am not breaking into this woman’s house,” she said sternly before releasing a loud hiccup.
Aria paused and turned to face them. “And wouldn’t it have been nice if Jessa had said, ‘I am not sleeping with my friend’s husband’?” she asked sarcastically.
The three friends exchanged a look before they all turned and made their way through the landscaping to the tall double front doors. Aria punched the alarm’s keypad. “Jessa gave me the alarm passcode a while ago when she was out of town and wanted me to watch her house,” she explained as she reached in her purse and pulled out her keys. “Hopefully it and this spare key she gave me still works.”
Jaime made a mental note to change her own password, because nobody was going all up and through her house when the mood hit.
Click.
Aria looked over her shoulder at them as she pushed the door open. “Welcome to the whorehouse,” she said before pushing the door open wide.
Jaime paused for a long time before she followed Renee and Aria into the house. She was afraid that the old adage was true: Be careful what you look for, because you just might find it.
“Okay, so she did move,” Renee said as she hitched her purse higher up on her shoulder and held the bottle of Patrón tighter. She knew the clutch was filled with desperation.
All of the furniture was gone.
All photos and personal items were noticeably gone.
Nothing but the curtains and blinds even hinted that someone had lived there that very morning.
This was a house that had been left behind.
And Renee just knew that like the house, she had been left behind as well.
“That bastard!” she swore as she followed Aria and Jaime up the wooden staircase.
“Well, the bitch always was a go-getta, and now that includes getting gone,” Aria said sarcastically over her shoulder before she walked into Jessa’s spacious bedroom. “It is time to look for something—anything—that gets us to the bottom of this.”
Renee nodded as she tried to summon the same strength and will that helped her climb the corporate ladder. Even though she felt like a crumbling brick wall on the inside, she knew it was time to woman up. She released a heavy breath as she looked around the empty bedroom. She had been here before hundreds of times….
Helping a friend dress for an event.
Tending to a friend who was sick in bed.
Running in to grab a dress or shoes to borrow from a friend’s closet.
Memories that were tainted by thoughts of what else went down. The betrayal. The secrets.
If these walls could talk, she thought as she eyed the spot previously occupied by the king-sized bed. She tensed at a vivid image of Jessa naked and sweaty astride Jackson’s dick as his hands clutched her wide hips and then slapped playfully at her buttocks. Renee winced. The vision of his glistening wet dick sliding up and down inside his whore made Renee physically ill, and her free hand clutched at her stomach.
“I have to get out of here,” she whispered harshly as she ungraciously dropped the bottle of Patrón and flew from the den of sin before she brought up her lunch and every bit of the liquor she drank to numb the pain.
In the hallway she turned and pressed her forehead to the wall as she forced herself to breathe in and out slowly.
“We need to talk. We have to talk.”
The words—his words—echoed mockingly in her head.
Renee turned and walked down the stairs. She paused at the bottom of the steps as she looked around at an architecturally beautiful house that was filled with dirty secrets.
Renee still clearly remembered the very first time she’d entered this house to welcome Jessa Bell to Richmond Hills. Back then she had tried to give Suzie Homemaker a run for her money….
Renee settled the napkin over the basket of fresh chocolate chip cookies as she rang the doorbell. Having been one of the first families to move into the Richmond Hills subdivision nearly five years earlier, Renee felt like the godmother of the neighborhood. She made it her business to meet and greet every one of the homeowners that moved in after her and her husband. As she waited, she smoothed her ponytail and then her crisp white shirt and creased capris. She wanted to make a good impression on her new neighbor.
The door opened and Renee was a little taken aback by the voluptuous beauty in no more than her late twenties standing before her with a pageant-winning smile. She was young but self-assured. Renee knew that from the way the woman met her eyes. She was pretty and she knew it. In the jeans and fitted tee she wore that broadcast: MY EYES ARE NOT DOWN HERE, her endless curves were hard to miss.
“Uh, hi, hello, I’m Renee Clinton. I live right up the street,” she said with a smile as she handed her the basket. “I just wanted to welcome you and your husband to the neighborhood.”
She winked. “Well, Renee Clinton who lives right up the street, I’m Jessa Bell, and I live right here,” she joked with a husky voice that evoked thoughts of a blues club, a jazzy song playing and a microphone poised in front of her mouth.
Renee genuinely smiled, instantly liking the younger woman with the playful and disarming demeanor.
Jessa lifted the napkin and held the basket to her nose. “Chocolate chip? Oooh. My favorite,” she sighed as she reached out to squeeze Renee’s wrist. “How about we take your cookies and my husband’s ice cream and make some magic?”
Renee laughed as Jessa stepped back into the foyer and waved her right inside with a big, friendly smile….
And that day had been the first of many that Renee had spent in Jessa’s home. In the weeks that followed, she had found Jessa to be funny, outgoing, lively, and spirited. Being in her company had
always meant a good time. Always.
Wrapping her arms around herself, Renee strolled back into the sunken living room. Everywhere she looked, steamy and naked visions of Jackson and Jessa mocked her horribly.
On the floor in front of the fireplace.
On the sofa.
Against the wall.
Each vision was a pain in her heart. Even the remote chance of a betrayal hurt. The idea of Jackson straying hurt, but coupled with the mistress being one of her good friends? Devastating. Tripled with him leaving her for Jessa? Absolutely crushing.
“We need to talk. We have to talk.”
Bzzzz.
Her hand immediately went to her hip for her BlackBerry. It was her office. Of course. Her face became pensive as she glanced away from the vibrating device in her hand.
Is that what pushed Jackson into Jessa’s bed? she wondered. Were all of his complaints and concerns about my workload far more serious than I took them?
She took a deep breath as she answered the phone. “Hello. Listen, um, I have a family emergency that will need my full attention today,” she said, not even giving them a chance to say anything. “I’m going to need you to just sit on everything until I get into the office tomorrow. If it’s a crisis, then refer it to one of the other VPs.”
“Yes, Mrs. Clinton.”
Renee ended the call, thinking her stand to put her family before her career might be too little, too damn late.
Aria closed the closet door and moved over to the window. She eased back the curtain and looked down the street at her home. Everything about it seemed picture perfect. She thought everything about what was in it had been just as snapshot ready.
They had great sex. They talked about everything. They laughed about more. They didn’t have money trouble. They spent lots of quality time together and apart.
Message from a Mistress Page 5
