by Lisa Ladew
Unauthorized Affair
by Lisa Ladew
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons or organizations, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 Lisa Ladew
Cover design by http://www.stunningbookcovers.com/
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 1
Jen Mansko slipped through the waves on her surfboard, heading back to shore. She’d thought for sure that an hour of surfing before work would get rid of the tickle of unease she’d felt tumbling around the back of her mind, but now that her hour was over it was back. Did I forget something important? she wondered for the 50th time that morning. The cold water of Ocean Beach washed around her, chilling her more than usual. She barely noticed. Her thoughts seemed far away and hidden from her view by a piece of gauzy fabric in her mind. That’s silly, she thought. How can my own thoughts be hidden from me? But the feeling persisted.
Reaching shore, she climbed off the surfboard and out of the water, functioning almost fully on auto-pilot. She’d done this same routine enough mornings that she probably could have made it from this point on the beach to the cafe that she worked at with her eyes closed. So what did it matter that her mind couldn’t stop worrying about something she couldn’t remember? She didn’t need it right now.
In the parking lot, she slid her surfboard on top of her tiny, beat-up, hatchback and tied it down. She tugged off her wetsuit and grabbed a towel to dry her long hair, squeezing the water gently from her thick, pink ponytail. Looking at it made her smile, at least a little. She loved the pink dye in her normally blond hair.
The early-morning fog pressed in on her and made her shiver. She looked in the back seat for her clothes but it was empty. She’d forgotten her clothes. All she had was the shorts she drove over in. She’d have to go home and grab her work outfit. Instead of lessening, the tickle of unease grew into a lightning bolt of dread, making her feel suddenly hot all over.
Just go in to work and see if Carla has anything you can wear. She rejected the idea at once and climbed into the driver’s seat, a frown of dismay seated on her face. Jen grabbed her phone and dialed the cafe’s number.
“Cafe Au Lait, can I help you?” a familiar, sassy voice asked.
“Carla, I’ll be a few minutes late, I have to run home and get my clothes. I’m sorry,” Jen said into the phone, feeling like a robot.
“Where you, girl? The beach?”
“Yeah.”
“So you’ll be 30 minutes late.”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
Jen heard Carla’s tone turn from flippant to concerned in an instant. “Jen, what’s wrong with you? You sound like someone ran over your best puppy.”
“Nothing Carla, I just feel bad I’m gonna be late, that’s all.”
“Aw girl, don’t worry about it. I got you covered.” The sass was back, but Jen couldn’t appreciate it. Her frenetic thoughts tumbled and hid from her behind the curtain.
“Thanks Carla. I’ll get there as soon as I can,” she whispered and pressed the END button.
She started her car and drove the 20 horrible minutes it took her to reach the apartment she shared with her boyfriend in San Francisco’s Tenderloin district. She pulled into her stall and killed the ignition. Dimly, she felt her jaw aching. She tried to relax the muscles there but couldn’t do it.
She climbed the steps to her floor, pushing herself mentally to take each step. Not daring to think about why it was so hard. She’d rather be doing anything than this right now, and she didn’t even know why. Or at least that’s what she tried to believe.
She walked the hall to her door like it was death row, her feet dragging, her muscles resisting. When she at last stood in front of her door she stared at it for several minutes, a heated debate persisting in her mind. Just go to work. Forget the clothes. No! Go in and get your clothes! Finally, she seated her key in the lock and pushed the door open, revealing the small living room beyond.
She took a step, and another, then one more, and turned left at the hallway, her ears straining to pick up noises from the bedroom beyond, where her clothes lay. Instead of putting the clothes by her keys, like she always did, she’d pushed them under the bed. The image of herself doing it played over and over in her mind, but she still couldn’t admit to herself why she’d done it. But now the image changed. She saw herself going through the kitchen garbage, looking for a ring that had slipped off her hand, and finding a used condom buried almost at the bottom. Which was suspect because she and Adam didn’t use condoms. That was 2 weeks ago. She saw herself hugging Adam when he came home from work and smelling the unmistakable scent of sex on his body. That was a week ago. And she saw herself watching him smile and laugh to himself at a text message he received. When she’d checked his phone later, hating herself passionately for doing so, there was no record of any text messages coming in that day. So he’d deleted it. That was last night. Each time, she’d squashed the thoughts that came fast and furious, not letting herself think them. Adam loved her. She loved Adam. He wouldn’t do that. And just because they hadn’t had sex for a month now, that didn’t mean anything. He was tired. He was working double shifts almost every day. And she was too when she could get them.
A noise interrupted the jumbled thoughts that were finally tumbling into her consciousness. A laugh. A female laugh. A throaty female laugh with a sensual moan at the end of it floated towards her through the small opening of the bedroom door. Physical pain wrapped itself around Jen’s chest and squeezed. Her head and neck suddenly flushed hot, even her eyes burned. Her breakfast of cheese and yogurt sat heavy in her stomach, while nausea rolled over her in a wave. The door to the bedroom she shared with Adam loomed in front of her. Through the two-inch crack she saw only the dresser against the wall. She couldn’t see any of the bed. She reached out her hand, which weighed 1000 pounds, and pushed weakly at the door.
Adam’s broad, tanned back was towards her. His butt and leg muscles flexed rhythmically as he thrust and withdrew, thrust and withdrew. The light coming in from the window sparkled off tiny beads of sweat that lined his spine. Underneath him, in the bed, Jen saw a flash of pale skin, a shock of flaxen hair. She stood motionless and watched her boyfriend fuck whoever this was. Please God don’t let it be someone I know, she prayed, swallowing hard to keep her breakfast down.
The girl moaned again. “You like that, baby?” Adam asked, sounding breathless and aggressive. The girl moaned in agreement and Jen’s hands flew to her ears, trying to block out the sound.
The girl in the bed noticed the movement and locked eyes with Jen. Her face registered shock, but then slackened into recognition, and then a malicious smile grew there. She held Jen’s gaze and her smile widened as her body rocked with Adam’s thrusts.
Jen lost her battle with her breakfast and ran out of the room, barely making it into the bathroom in time. As she heaved into the toilet, she heard Adam swear loudly, then say her name softly, condemningly from the doorway.
When Jen was sure she was done sh
e pushed away from the toilet. She stood and wiped her mouth, her eyes meeting Adam’s. He was wearing a pair of black shorts. His erection was still visible inside them. “Jen,” he began. “It’s not what it looks like.”
Jen shook her head, not believing what she was hearing. The girl from the bedroom peeked over Adam’s shoulder at her, one of Jen’s sheets wrapped loosely around her, her bare breasts spilling out and screaming that it was exactly what it looked like.
Jen mustered every ounce of cold fury she felt and told Adam, “I don’t want to see you ever again.” She shouldered past both of them and fled the apartment, forgetting her clothes again.
***
“Carla, I just don’t understand! Why did he do it?” Jen wailed, her head tilting forward, her hair spilling into the over sized cup of hot tea Carla had brought her.
“Shh, baby girl, shh, he did it because he’s a jerk and an asshole and he don’t deserve you noways.” Carla patted Jen’s back while she craned her head to see out into the cafe from the tiny break room.
“Look, as soon as Rena gets here to cover your shift I’m going to take you back to my place and we’ll hash this out, but until then try to be at least a little quiet. I’ll be right back.” Carla ran out into the cafe.
Dimly, Jen heard her ask “Can I help you?”
And life goes on. My boyfriend cheated on me in my bed, but I gotta keep quiet, Jen thought, tears plinking into her tea.
Her phone buzzed beside her. She grabbed it, half-hoping it was Adam, half-terrified it was Adam. The rage she had felt in the apartment was gone, replaced only by a sick, sad longing and a wellspring of grief she was drowning in. She’d loved him. She still loved him even though she didn’t want to. They were going to go to Europe together in three months. She’d been sure he would propose in Europe - maybe at the top of the Eiffel Tower, maybe in a gondola floating in a Venice canal.
And now what? She was 26, and there would be no marriage, no proposal, no trip to Europe. She knew she didn’t have the guts to go by herself. And she also knew if he came up with some halfway-plausible sob story, she was in danger of taking him back. Anything to stop the hurt in her heart.
She snorted to herself through her tears. What was that old joke? Sorry babe, I tripped and fell on top of her, over and over and over again. And I was naked because I had just got out of the shower. And she was in the room because our bed was broken and I called the bed-repair store and they sent her over. And she was naked too because she said that’s the only way she would know if the bed was fixed or not. So you see, it’s really not my fault.
Jen tugged at her hair, hard, trying to break up the ridiculous thoughts with pain. Her phone buzzed again and she slowly brought her eyes to the screen. It wasn’t Adam. Thank you, God. It was a text message from her big brother, Jerry. Jerry who had never seemed to like Adam. But he was never mean about it. Maybe she could go visit him for a few days. Get her mind off of Adam.
She unlocked her phone and read his text. Back from Middle East. When are you coming up to meet Sara? Or should we come down? Miss you.
A sad cry erupted from Jen’s throat, startling her. No brotherly intuition that something was wrong. Just normal life goes on. And Jerry had a new girlfriend. A serious girlfriend. A famous, dangerous girlfriend who used to be a spy. Jen was thrilled for him, but at the same time his good fortune rubbed her horrible discovery just a little bit more raw, a little bit more tender and painful.
Jen pushed the phone away without responding. She put her head down on the table and continued to cry.
Chapter 2
“What are you going to do if he’s still here?” Carla whispered to Jen as they walked up the steps to Jen’s apartment.
“I don’t know. That’s why I brought you with me,” Jen whispered back.
It was her apartment. She’d lived here first. He’d moved in with her. He wasn’t even on the lease. So if she had to, she could call the cops. She hoped.
The night sky was dark and slightly chilling. Jen felt a little bit better and she hadn’t cried for almost an hour. She’d spent the day at Carla’s apartment. They’d watched First Wives Club twice and The Other Woman once. They’d downed mimosas and bashed Adam for hours, although Carla was much better at it than Jen was. Jen’s heart was never in it.
In front of Jen’s door, they stopped and both of them put their ear to it. No sounds came from within. Jen grabbed Carla’s hand and held it tight, then put her key in the lock and pushed the door open. The place was dark and empty.
Jen let out her held breath in a whoosh. “Thank goodness,” she said, walking into the apartment and snapping on the lights. Her next sentence died in her throat and dread took hold of her for the second time that day. The place was mostly empty. Her couch was gone. Her TV was gone. Her big comfy chair was gone. Her paintings were taken down from the walls. She could see dark squares where they had been.
“Oh he didn’t, he didn’t!” she yelled, anguished, and ran down the hallway to the bedroom. Her bed was gone. The cheap dresser was still there, standing against the wall like a lone sentry. She ripped open the closet. His clothes were gone. Her clothes were still there, but they looked rifled through, like maybe some were missing. The floor was a littered mess of papers, her shoes, empty hangers, and her few keepsake boxes that had been under the bed. She sank into the mess and gathered a ratty old teddy bear to her. The only gift she had left from her father. At least Adam hadn’t taken it.
Carla walked in the door and whistled. “Was the bed yours?”
“Yeah, and the TV, and the couch, and the chair. It was all mine. Adam was living on a friend’s couch when we got together.” Jen heard the hopeless, plaintive note in her voice and hated it.
“Baby girl, you better call the police.”
“Yeah, OK. You’re right.”
Jen fished her phone out of her pocket and dialed the number. The dispatcher said they’d send someone as soon as they could, and maybe she should make a list of what was gone.
“God, I’m such an idiot,” Jen groaned.
Carla sat on the floor next to her. “You’re not an idiot. You’re just-”
“Naive, I know. I’ve heard it before.”
“I wasn’t gonna say naive, sweetie. I was gonna say sweet. Trusting. You think the best of people, even if they don’t deserve it. That’s a wonderful way to be.”
“It doesn’t feel so wonderful.”
Carla clucked her tongue and pulled Jen into a hug. “I know it don’t right now. But that’s what makes you who you are, Jen. You’re the best kind of person, in my opinion. You’re sensitive, soft, kind. You don’t have hard edges that hurt people. I know you got hurt this time but it won’t last forever. Adam did you a favor. He doesn’t deserve you. He never deserved you. Everybody knew that.”
Jen looked at Carla, wide-eyed. “You didn’t like Adam?”
Carla dropped her gaze. “No, I didn’t. I always knew he was the cheating type. I could tell the first time I met him.”
“How? How could you tell?” Jen pushed off the floor and paced the room. “How can you tell someone is the cheating type? And why couldn’t I tell? I’m seriously asking you, Carla! I seriously need to know this!” Jen stopped pacing and dropped to her knees in front of Carla. “He’s not the first guy to cheat on me, did you know that?” she said softly, staring into Carla’s eyes with a stricken look on her face.
Carla nodded, her eyes kind. “You told me.” She took Jen’s hands in her own. “I guess I knew because when you introduced us and he shook my hand he held onto it a little bit too long. And the way he looked at me felt like he was assessing me, maybe checking me to see if I was interested in him. And how he would watch the women who walked by. Like they were all in the Miss Universe pageant and he was the only judge.”
Jen groaned and pulled away. “I never noticed any of that about him. God I hate being sensitive and kind and trusting. I want to be able to look at a guy and know if he’s a jerk. And I want
to be able to tell him to get lost and not feel bad about it. I want to be like you, Carla.”
“No you don’t, baby girl. I’m loud and brash and harsh and all my guys are that way too. And that’s OK. We’re made for each other like that. And sometimes we bang up against each other and accidentally hurt each other because of it. But you, someday you’re going to find a guy who is a lot like you. And he’s going to be amazing. He’s going to be sensitive and sweet and kind, and he’s going to recognize that in you too, and he’s going to fall head over heels in love with you.” Carla’s voice softened to a whisper, with an undercurrent of steel in it. “And he ain’t never gonna hurt you. He’s gonna be your fiercest protector and your greatest lover and you are really going to live happily ever after.”
Jen pulled back, surprise in her eyes. “How do you know that?”
“I just know, Jen, cuz girls like you are rare and special and when they find the right one, he sticks around.”
“Well how am I going to know he’s the right one?” Jen whispered. “I’ll probably be wasting my time on some other jerk because I can’t tell who’s a jerk and who’s not!”
Carla nodded solemnly. “Maybe that used to be true. But I bet you’ll look a little harder from now on, won’t you?”
Jen’s mouth pulled sideways into a bemused smile. “Yeah, I guess I will.”
Carla pulled her into a hug and whispered into her ear. “See, Adam might have done you a bit of a favor after all.”
The doorbell rang, startling both women. Carla laughed and pulled back. “I bet that’s the police. And you didn’t even make your list yet.”
***
Jen sat at the kitchen table looking over the form the female police officer had pushed across to her.
“Is the list missing any item that your ex-boyfriend removed from the apartment?” Officer Sanders asked.
Jen shook her head and passed it back to the officer.
