Maybe she called to say thank you.
She placed the phone on speaker, her mind really still focused on what might be an infinitesimal breakthrough in the Montgomery case.
“Who the hell are you, Jessa ‘Slick Ass’ Bell, to give me marriage advice?”
“No thanks, then,” she drawled, shaking her head.
“You think being a pro at stealing husbands and breaking up marriages gives you the authority on saving marriages? You delusional backstabber. Don’t let that bullshit business, and a book that has completely skewed my view on the publishing industry confuse you into thinking that’s true redemption for your dirty deeds. Jaime is good—too good—because I would have left my size nines in your—”
Jessa pressed a button. “Bullshit business? But you called me for help though?”
Message deleted.
“Stay mad, child,” she said, already bored by it.
She dialed Hammer’s number.
“What’s up, baby?”
“I hate to bother you,” she began, walking back up to the frozen image on the television screen. “But I got a theory on the Montgomerys, and it’s a long shot.”
“Go ahead.”
“I think it’s possible his mistress was there in the bar,” she said. “He called someone and I heard a phone ring. The ringing suddenly stops at the same moment his call ends.”
“That could be a coincidence,” he said doubtfully.
“Or his mistress was there,” she said. “Maybe they were on to us. I want some more surveillance on him. His wife insists he’s different. There’s a reason, and I want to tell her what it is.”
“Okay. No problem. And I’ll take another look at the video myself.”
“Thank you.”
“What are you wearing?” he asked.
Jessa smiled. “The red robe,” she said, her voice husky.
“My mama’s sleeping.”
“And?” Jessa asked, as she turned off the light and left the office.
“And I can sneak out for an hour—or two.”
“Sneak out?” she asked, teasingly, as she climbed the stairs.
“You want me to come or not?”
“Yes, come on so that you can cum in . . . me.”
They shared a laugh before they ended the call.
Chapter 9
Three months later
“All chickens come home to roost.”
Jessa stared at her reflection, barely taking in the beautiful organza Berta gown and veil she wore. She shifted her eyes over to take in Hammer’s mother standing behind her in the open doorway to her master suite. Their eyes locked in the reflection.
She took in her lilac church suit and wide-brimmed hat, the tightly gripped pearl clutch. She looked every bit of her eighty years of age, and there was no denying the judgment in her eyes as she stared at her soon-to-be daughter-in-law.
She hates me.
Jessa let her mind drift to their first meeting . . .
“I’m nervous, Hammer,” Jessa said as they rode the elevator up to his loft-style apartment.
He soundly slapped her buttocks in the sequined jumpsuit she wore beneath a black ostrich jacket. “For what? It’s just my mama, LuBell Young from Fresno, California. Sweetest woman you ever wanna meet,” he said.
The elevator came to a stop and began to open.
Jessa grabbed his arm and looked up at him. “And if she doesn’t like me?”
Will you?
Hammer bent down toward her. “There is nothing that will be said or done that will make me leave you alone,” he promised, pressing a kiss to her lips.
They stepped off the elevator. The scent of food surrounded them, and Jessa had to admit it smelled good. It reminded her of the type of food her grandmother used to cook. Hammer unlocked the door and they entered.
LuBell Young came around the corner, wiping her hands on a towel before she flung it over her shoulder. She was a petite woman with bright eyes and dark skin that was still tight and free of makeup. Her hair was dyed black and still curled like she just took foam rollers out of her hair. She wore a long jean skirt and a T-shirt with a graphic of raised hands with the logo “Hands Up, Don’t Shoot.”
And over the rim of her glasses, she gave Jessa’s outfit a once-over. “Where you going in that frock?” she asked, frowning.
Jessa stopped in her tracks. Hammer tried to pull her forward. She resisted.
“Mama, this is my fiancée, Jessa Bell,” he said, moving forward alone to wrap his arm around his mother’s shoulders. He tried to nudge her forward.
LuBell shook her head and pointed her finger down at the floor.
She meant for Jessa to come to her, not the other way around. It was respect, and Jessa recognized it well.
Oh hell.
LuBell Young was a no-nonsense woman who did not come to play.
Jessa’s smile was nervous and hesitant as she moved forward. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Young,” she said, awkwardly bending to hug her.
LuBell instantly began coughing.
Jessa shut one eye and froze as a light spray of spittle hit her neck and shoulder. She stepped back.
“I can’t take all that strong perfume,” LuBell said. “I don’t wear nothing but baby powder and a little Avon Timeless on special occasions.”
“Mama,” Hammer said, his voice scolding.
“What, Robbie?” she asked innocently.
Jessa covertly used the inside lining of her coat to wipe her neck. “Robbie?” she asked, glancing at him.
He shrugged.
“I made some stewed chicken feet and dry white rice, Robbie,” she said, reaching up to pat his cheek before she cut her eyes over to Jessa. “I hope that’s okay with you?”
Chicken feet? She only cooked it to test me. Wrong one, you old bitch.
“That’s fine,” Jessa said, busying herself removing her coat and hanging it up in the armoire Hammer kept by the front door.
“She real comfortable, huh?” LuBell asked Hammer before walking into the kitchen.
Jessa turned to face him.
Hammer held his hands up and then pressed them together as if praying.
“Your mama fucking with me, you know?” she muttered to him as she passed.
He reached out and grabbed her arm. “Jessa.”
She gave him a “Negro, what” look.
“That’s my mama,” he reminded her.
“Let’s see if your mama can take it like she dish it,” she said, snatching her arm away from him and walking into the kitchen.
Jessa walked right up to the stove and went in LuBell’s pot. She grabbed a teaspoon and tasted the broth off the stew. “Not bad, Mrs. Young, but my grandmama would add some sliced fat back or pork jowls to hers to give it more flavor,” she said, putting the lid back on the pot.
“Well, ain’t that about a damn nerve,” LuBell said, looking completely offended.
“Okay, stop it,” Hammer said. “Let’s eat.”
Jessa moved over to the dining area and took a seat at the table as Hammer carried the tureen that now held the stewed chicken feet. He set it on the table, giving Jessa a stern look, as he took the seat at the head of the table. LuBell sat across from Jessa.
“Mrs. Young, I truly love your son and I’m not sure what I have done to offend you,” Jessa said.
Hammer groaned.
“You’re the reason my boy ain’t been back to Fresno to see me,” LuBell said.
“That’s on me, I should have brought Jessa out to meet you,” Hammer said. “We’ve been busy, that’s all.”
“Doing what? From my understanding, what she’s known for don’t take but a few minutes,” LuBell said, with a “so there” expression. “What she got to do for the rest of the day?”
Hammer took Jessa’s hand atop the table into his and squeezed it tightly. “Mama, you always taught me respect is given where it is earned, and since Jessa arrived you have been nothing but disrespectful to her,” he
said, his voice firm. “I’ve never seen you act like this, and it’s not worthy of who I know you to be. ”
LuBell’s mouth became a thin line.
Jessa stroked his palm with her thumb.
“I wouldn’t want to do anything to upset you, Robbie,” LuBell said.
“And?” he prompted.
“And that’s it,” she stressed.
This is not my first rodeo with a jealous woman.
“I’m sure Mrs. Young just needs a chance to get to know me,” Jessa said, giving his hand one last squeeze before she freed it.
Jessa reached for the salt shaker and cut Mrs. Young a look as she sprinkled it liberally onto her food.
His mother’s mouth flattened again and her eyes were hostile, but she said nothing.
Jessa turned on the padded wooden bench that sat before her makeup table. This was the first they had been entirely alone in the last three months. Hammer had made sure of that. “Ma’am?” she said to Mrs. Young.
“You heard me,” LuBell said, before looking around the room. “Miss High and Mighty.”
“I guess that means you like my bedroom,” Jessa said, trying so hard to keep her patience.
She had sent her mother, Delaney, Keegan, and her beauty squad from the room to allow for a few moments of peace and quiet before the wedding began downstairs in her backyard.
“You just remember that when your time comes, Jezebel,” LuBell said, pointing a gloved finger at her. “And it’s coming. It always does.”
Jessa looked and felt unsure. Was there truth to her words?
LuBell saw her fear and cackled as she turned to walk away.
The fuck?
She turned on the seat to look at her reflection.
You can’t have it all.
All chickens come home to roost.
You can’t have it all.
Her anxiety made her itch, and Jessa scratched at her neck as she began to pant. She rose from the bench and walked over to the closed patio doors. She could see all their guests milling about with cocktails already in hand. Hammer was with his friends and his son, Robert Jr., all of whom had been kind and funny and welcoming of her into their lives. LuBell walked up to them. “Fucking little mean-ass gremlin,” Jessa muttered, shifting her gaze around the crowd until it landed on Revered Dell.
“I need to speak to his behind,” she said, her breath fanning against the glass. “ASAP.”
She eased the door open a crack. “Revered Dell,” she hollered.
She heard nothing but the upbeat music of the deejay.
“Fuck!” she screeched, jerking the door shut.
She walked across the room to where her iPhone was plugged into the wall behind the tall dresser. “Shit,” she swore, when she spotted Keegan’s own iPhone with the camo OtterBox sitting there as well.
Jessa spotted one of Keegan’s walkie-talkies. “Okay, not as stupid as I first thought,” she said, picking it up from where she left it earlier.
“Keegan,” she said into the device as she moved toward the patio doors again.
Nothing.
“Keegan,” she repeated, looking for her in the crowd.
She was talking to the deejay. “DJ Loud Ass Music,” she snapped. “DJ Turn It the Fuck Down. DJ Your Ass Is Fired.”
“Keegan!” Jessa roared as soon as she moved away from the deejay both.
She and several people near her jumped in surprise.
Jessa looked on as Keegan took the walkie-talkie from the hip of her jean and race-walked up the middle of the aisle.
“Go ahead, Jessa.”
“Bring me Reverend Dell,” she said.
Keegan stopped and turned look back down the length of the aisle. “Something wrong?” she asked.
Jessa turned the walkie-talkie off and tossed it over her shoulder onto the middle of her bed. “That’s a dumbass question. Why would I ask for him if everything was right?”
You can’t have it all.
All chickens come home to roost.
Jessa paced like a fanatic, unable to shake the feeling of foreboding.
“Jessa, here he is.”
She turned to the open doorway and felt relief at the sight of Reverend Bell coming to stand in the doorway behind Keegan. “Okay, you out,” she said, pointing to her friend. She turned her finger to the reverend. “And you in. Let’s go, Rev.”
“Alone? In here?” he asked, leaning his head in to look around with obvious disapproval.
“Oh yeah, I forgot,” she said, remembering him basically admitting that she was Eve tempting him with the forbidden fruit.
Keegan looked from Jessa to Reverend Dell.
“Could you go get dressed?” Jessa asked her, pointedly looking at the jeans and T-shirt she still wore.
“Right,” Keegan said, easing past the minister to leave the room.
Jessa stepped into the hall and closed her bedroom door behind her before she made her way down the hall to the closed door of the guest room she’d assigned Keegan. Quickly she turned the knob and opened the door at the same time.
“Ow!” Keegan cried out as the door slammed into her.
Jessa stepped inside and looked down at her on the floor rubbing a spot on her forehead. “Predictable. That’s what you are,” she sang to the tune of Nat King Cole’s “Unforgettable.”
“I’m going. I’m going,” Keegan said rising to her feet and crossing the room to the adjoining bath.
Jessa stepped out into the hall and eyed the Rev giving her a disapproving look. Her shoulders dropped before she stuck her head inside. “Sorry, Keegan,” she said, sounding more like an insolent child than a woman ten minutes from being wed.
“Better?” she asked Revered Dell as she neared him.
“Yes, if you meant the apology.”
She reclaimed her spot in front of her closed bedroom door.
Reverend Dell stepped back from her.
She looked down at her feet and then up at him. “Are you good now?” she asked, perturbed.
He looked at her as he nodded. “You really are a beautiful bride, Jessa,” he told her.
“Thanks, Rev,” she said her annoyance softening. “Listen, I need you to tell me that everything is going to be fine.”
“I can’t promise you that,” he said. “You both completed the premarital counseling I required to perform the wedding ceremony and I think you’re well-suited, but I can’t promise that everything will be perfect. Remember, we discussed that marriage will never be perfect.”
“Yes, but will I?” she asked, her tone soft and vulnerable as she allowed her body to slump back against the door. She looked up at him as tears swelled. “I am so messed up, and I’m trying, I really am, but there is something testing me. Always somebody pushing me. This is a lot of work, and the old me, to be honest, was just easier, Rev, so what does that say about me?”
Reverend Dell leaned back against the wall and gave her that look fathers give to their daughters—loving and admonishing all at once. “No one’s walk with God is the same, and we all are tested. We all have to make a conscious effort to do the right thing, and that’s all that matters. Not that initial thought or action but your deliberate thought and your deliberate action. It is your intent that matters. And you are trying when we both know there was a time you clung to what made you feel better regardless of who got hurt.”
Jessa looked down at her engagement ring. “It honestly feels like I don’t deserve it,” she admitted.
Reverend reached for her hand.
She looked up at him, comforted by the warmth in his brown eyes.
“You are far harder on yourself than the Lord is on you, that I can promise you,” he said.
You can’t have it all.
“Do you love him? Do you want to marry him? Do you want to continue the work to be the best you can be, Jessa?” Reverend Dell asked her.
“Yes,” she said softly with a nod.
He gave her hand one last squeeze before he released it. �
�Then let’s get you married.”
“Okay,” she agreed, feeling hopeful and calm under his guidance. “Thank you.”
He gave her one last comforting smile before he turned and made his way down the hall and then the steps.
* * *
Jessa slowly walked down the white burlap aisle runner adorned with blush and violet rose petals. She moved in sync with the melody to “You and I (We Can Conquer the World)” by Stevie Wonder. From beneath her veil she locked her eyes on Hammer standing at the white pergola awaiting her in a beautifully tailored charcoal gray tuxedo.
She heard the whispered compliments of their wedding guests, but her mind was focused on the classic R&B song that was an ode to love and togetherness.
“In my mind, we can conquer the world . . . ”
When she reached him, he smiled and extended his hand to her. She took it and kept her eyes locked on him even as she handed her bouquet to Keegan, serving as her lone bridesmaid in a strapless embroidered gray gown.
The song ended and together they turned to face Reverend Dell.
“Ma-ma!” Delaney shouted. “Get me, Ma-ma.”
Everyone laughed or happily sighed.
“Shhhhh.” Jessa turned to hold her finger in front of her mouth as she eyed Delaney in a beautiful charcoal linen dress with a sequined cat headband that matched her Mary Jane shoes.
Darla tried in vain to settle her down.
Hammer quickly eased past her.
Jessa looked on as he reached for Delaney, and she gladly allowed him to pick her up. He came back to stand beside her as Delaney looked over his broad shoulder and waved to everyone in their seats.
“You ready to lock in for the rest of our lives?” Hammer asked her.
Jessa nodded, aware of Revered Dell’s eyes on them. “For forever and a day,” she promised him truthfully.
* * *
“This is beautiful and just what I needed.”
From behind her oversized black shades, Jessa looked out at the picturesque landscape of Antigua as they sailed the Caribbean Sea aboard a yacht.
“Nice surprise?”
She leaned up from his chest as they lounged together on the aft deck. She turned and kissed her husband. “Fabulous surprise. Thanks for booking this excursion,” she said, taking in how bronzed and handsome he looked shirtless with his dark aviator shades on.
Mistress for Hire Page 13
