by Keys, Sherie
As these thoughts went whirring through Jacob’s head, Almasi opened and closed her mouth multiple times, and eventually she spoke. “Jacob—” she began plaintively. “Jacob, I—”
As if he would let that conniving woman speak. As if he would let her explain this away, allowing her to turn the story around in her favor. No.
“Shut up,” he said forcefully. “Just—don’t talk to me.” He shook his head, glaring, and turned to walk away before embarrassing himself further in front of Mr. Kofi Kumi. In front of his wife’s… his wife’s lover.
“No, Jacob, listen!” Almasi begged, tears forming in her eyes and beginning to stream down her face. “Please, you don't understand!”
Jacob would hear nothing of it. He turned on his heel and walked off into the mansion. He dodged into a side corridor as he saw Mr. Arko Kumi walking around the corner to go outside. Damn it, it was dinner soon.
Would he have to face his cheating wife in front of his business partner? Would he have to pretend to make small talk while he sat at the table, eating whatever delicacy was on the menu while the rage he felt ate away at him? No. He had to find a way out. Stepping into an empty room, Jacob pulled his phone out of his pocket. There was only one person to call to help him get out of this situation.
Almasi ran after Jacob, but couldn’t find him when she got inside. Instead, she found Mr. Arko Kumi walking down the hall toward the door to the patio. Oh no, she thought. Of course, she had to behave as if everything was normal. Continue to entertain the guests. She couldn’t afford to let on to what was happening. So she quickly wiped the tears off her face, straightened her back, and walked toward Mr. Arko Kumi with a smile.
“Good evening, Mrs. Adamson,” said Mr. Arko Kumi evenly, his face completely expressionless as usual.
“Good evening, Mr. Kumi,” Almasi replied. “Dinner will be served in a couple of minutes. I just need to talk to the cook for a moment, if you will excuse me,” she said, darting away as quickly as possible without seeming rude.
Mr. Arko Kumi nodded and made his way out to the patio. No doubt, his brother was sitting on one of the patio chairs now, enjoying taking in the fresh summer breeze and playing completely innocent. Almasi felt sick to her stomach. As soon as Mr. Arko Kumi was gone, she ran up the stairs to find Jacob.
He was not in their bedroom, nor was he in his study. Almasi called his name frantically as she went from room to room, trying to find him. She needed to explain what had happened. She felt so guilty for having hurt him like that. She knew that it wasn’t her fault, and that Mr. Kofi Kumi was completely to blame for the horrible violation of a kiss that Jacob had misperceived as an act of adultery, but it was Almasi’s fault for not having dealt with this situation sooner.
How silly I’ve been, she thought, for thinking that everything would work itself out. She wanted to cry some more, but she knew that she had to at least keep up a dignified appearance, and where was Jacob? She searched every room upstairs, but eventually she gave up. The mansion was enormous, and since Jacob had grown up there, he must know every secret passage and hidden corner by heart. There was no use in searching for him. Almasi bit her lip. What would she tell the others at the dinner table? How could she cover for this?
As Almasi made her way down the stairs, an answer presented itself in the form of Mrs. Nettle. The crotchety old woman, seeing Almasi approaching, addressed her first.
“Mrs. Adamson,” she began, “I’ve just had a call from Mr. Adamson’s assistant, Mr. Sanchez. It seems that Mr. Adamson has had a sudden… situation to attend to, and he will not be available for dinner.” It was impossible to tell from the neutral expression in Mrs. Nettle’s pale blue eyes whether or not she knew what had happened.
She looked disapproving, but that was always the expression she had on her face when she spoke to Almasi. Almasi decided to go along with the story Mrs. Nettle had given her. Trust Jeremy to come up with something, she thought.
“What is the nature of this… situation?” Almasi ventured. If she was going to be complicit in another lie, she might as well get her story aligned with everyone else’s.
“Mr. Adamson has received an urgent call from one of his stores and needs to meet with the manager immediately,” said Mrs. Nettle. She sounded like she was reciting a line in a play. “Because it’s company business, he is not at a liberty to provide further details.
It’s one of the locations in the next state over, so he will not be back in time to take dinner with you and the guests.” Mrs. Nettle’s tone became a little more pointed now, and she added, “I trust that you will manage to be an appropriate and a genteel hostess for the night.”
The last comment stung, but Almasi ignored it. “Thank you, Mrs. Nettle,” she said. “I will be on my way outside, then.”
“You had better be,” said Mrs. Nettle, looking at the clock. “It’s two minutes past the start of dinner, and you know how Mr. Arko Kumi doesn’t like for things to be late.” And with that last snide remark, Mrs. Nettle turned and left, probably to go bother some maid about the dress code or the folding technique of bed sheets, or something equally menial.
Almasi rolled her eyes once Mrs. Nettle was out of the room. She didn’t know why Mrs. Nettle was so grumpy and vindictive all the time, but Almasi had bigger fish to fry.
After making a quick stop to wash her face of the residual tears, Almasi made her way outside gracefully and greeted Mr. Arko Kumi and Mr. Kofi Kumi in a kind and polite manner.
Anyone who didn’t know better would have thought that nothing was wrong, and although it was impossible to ever get a good read of Mr. Arko Kumi’s facial expression, Almasi figured that it was safe to assume that he didn’t suspect anything.
When the typical “hellos” and “how are yous” were said, Almasi cleared her throat delicately and repeated the excuse that Mrs. Nettle had given her for Jacob’s absence. “I am afraid that my husband will be unable to attend dinner tonight,” she began, and she could see the amusement in Mr. Kofi Kumi’s eyes.
She chose not to make eye contact with him, instead, turning to Mr. Arko Kumi to explain the situation. Mr. Arko Kumi nodded thoughtfully, and dinner was served. The small talk was somewhat awkward, but at least for once Almasi was being included in the conversation.
She couldn’t help but feel a little resentful that it took until her husband was away and there were no other men to converse with, for Mr. Arko Kumi to finally willingly engage in a conversation with her. At least Mr. Kofi Kumi had always talked to her when she was being ignored. Not that Mr. Kofi Kumi’s behavior toward her was exactly a shining example of how one should treat the wives of one’s business associates, she thought wryly.
She realized as she had this thought that Mr. Kofi Kumi’s friendliness all along had probably been a part of his ploy to get into her pants. She felt sick. She’d been so stupid! To think that anyone would ever want to engage with her in any way other than to use her for something.
She suddenly felt very bitter about the whole situation with Jacob. She would be able to explain the situation to him when he came back, but she resented that he had refused to listen to her, instead choosing to run away and to let Jeremy and Mrs. Nettle deal with his problems.
Well, they would talk it out later. Almasi realized that she had become so lost in her thoughts that she had not been listening to the dinner conversation, and now Mr. Kofi Kumi was halfway through an anecdote to which she had missed the beginning. She forced a charming smile, playing along so that he wouldn’t become angry or be provoked to do something bad again.
That unwanted kiss had resulted in her husband thinking she was a cheater and running away, albeit, hopefully temporarily. What would happen if she crossed Mr. Kofi Kumi again?
Meanwhile as Almasi was suffering through the uncomfortable dinner at the Adamson mansion, Jacob was sitting in his limousine, waiting through the rush hour traffic to get into the city. He had texted Jeremy with the name of a bar, and they were going to meet up and talk
about it. Then, with any luck, Jacob would either find some sort of resolution for this situation, or he would get too drunk to care.
Either option seemed equally feasible at this point. Jacob leaned against the side window. He probably looked melodramatic. He probably seemed like a poor little rich boy who had never faced any sort of hardship, but who cared? Jacob was sad, hurt, and lonelier than he had felt in a long time. He was allowed to be miserable.
Eventually, the limo got off the highway and onto the main streets, and Jacob told the driver where to drop him. He would have the car parked in his space at the penthouse so that the driver could pick him up once he had either drowned his sorrows or come to some sort of conclusive decision. He would either go back to the mansion or stay at the penthouse that night. Either way, he would not have to drive drunk.
The driver stopped, and Jacob didn’t bother to thank him as he got out. (That would have annoyed Almasi, he thought bitterly. She was always harping on him about respecting the servants better.) The bar was a fairly low-key place, not somewhere where he would be noticed and recognized for who he was, but not too seedy that he could be putting himself in danger.
Jacob entered morosely and looked around. He found Jeremy sitting up at the bar, drinking a gin and tonic, and doing some sort cross word puzzle or a Sudoku or something. What a nerd. He walked up to Jeremy and sat down at the bar stool next to him without saying a word.
“Hey,” said Jeremy, looking up from his word search.
It was a word search. Jesus Christ. Jacob would have made fun of him if he had any energy for jokes. As it was, he was feeling exhausted and grumpy, so he just looked back at Jeremy and said “Hey,” frowning a little at the sympathetic look his assistant was giving him.
He was upset, yeah, but Jacob Adamson was not a sick puppy. He straightened himself up a little in order to seem less pathetic, but he could tell from the way Jeremy was looking at him that he wasn’t buying it. He had, after all, heard the tone of Jacob’s voice on the phone an hour before when he had called him in a panic. Jeremy had to calm him down until his words were coherent, and even then, Jacob had sounded completely distraught and more than a little melodramatic. Meeting him at the bar would be a good way to get Jacob out of the mansion and away from Almasi and also to let him cool down before he did or said anything rash.
Jacob appreciated Jeremy’s planning and quick thinking. However, right now he felt a little inclined to throttle his assistant for having been the one who had come up with the whole stupid fake marriage idea in the first place.
Jeremy could see Jacob brooding, and he hid a small smile. Assuming a serious and sympathetic tone, he looked back down at his word search and asked Jacob if he wanted to talk. He knew he would be in for a long venting session, but that was his job. He was not just the assistant—he also played the role of the best friend. “So,” he said. “Do you want to talk?”
“Yeah,” said Jacob. “Well, yeah and no. I mean,” he clarified, “I kind of want to tell you everything that happened, but… I also kind of really want to get super hammered and just forget my own name.”
Jeremy muttered something that sounded a little bit like “like father, like son,” but then out loud he said, “I can see how that would be an appealing idea. You don’t have much time for this to blow over before you have to go back, though, Jacob, and this is probably something you want to talk about sober, and it’s not worth waiting until tomorrow when you will presumably be massively hungover, if these evening goes according to your aforementioned plans.”
Jacob sighed. He knew that Jeremy was right; he didn’t want to admit it, but he supposed he should deal with it sooner than later. “Okay,” he said a little reluctantly. “But I’m getting a drink first.”
Jeremy chuckled. “Fair enough.”
So Jacob ordered a scotch on the rocks, and after a couple of sips, he took a deep breath and started to talk. He told Jeremy about how he had walked out and seen Almasi kissing Mr. Kofi Kumi, about the look of guilt on her face and the way she had tried to explain it away, even chasing after him when he had run off.
He didn’t need to tell Jeremy how much Almasi meant to him. Not only had they already had that conversation, but it was evident in Jacob’s face how much she meant to him as he talked about her. He continued telling Jeremy all about the situation, and about how he should have guessed it sooner. Mr. Kofi Kumi was so charming, and he was always talking to Almasi when Jacob was busy with his serious brother.
Mr. Kofi Kumi was taller than Jacob, and probably richer, too, and he had that easy laugh and that warm voice, and how could Jacob have been so stupid as to think that Almasi could ever fall in love with him as he had with her. Clearly, there was somebody better and funnier and more handsome and more attentive, someone who could win her away with more money and time than Jacob was willing or able to give her?
How could he think, that even after they had become so close, she would love him? To think that he had been planning to propose to her for real. That would have been so embarrassing and he would have felt like such a fool. Perhaps he was better off this way, perhaps finding her cheating on him was the only way he could have saved himself some small dignity, but how could he go back now and face Mr. Arko Kumi and close the deal, when his horrible, slimy, wife-stealing brother was still there, living in Jacob’s own house, with Jacob’s own wife, and…
Jeremy interrupted him, looking a little bit alarmed. “You're not telling me that you’re considering going back on the deal, are you?” he asked.
Jacob looked pained. “No… Well… No, I know I should go through with it. It’s better for the company, and the deal has been so important…” he trailed off, his expression so plaintive yet furious. “But that damned Kofi Kumi! It's so… it's just so unfair!” Jacob knew that he was sounding more and more juvenile now, but he couldn’t help it. That man had been conducting an affair with his wife, right in his house, right under his nose, and…
Jeremy put a hand on Jacob’s arm. “Look. As your business adviser, I insist that you go through with this deal,” he said seriously. His tone softened a little, and he added, “Jacob, I know this hurts, but you have no idea about the other side of the story. You need to talk to her.”
Jacob pulled his arm away. “No,” he said firmly. He turned to make eye contact with Jeremy. “Look, Jer, I know that the deal is important for the company, so I’m willing to continue through it as if nothing is happening, but do not think for a moment that I will talk to that, that…” he was searching for a cruel word that did not sound too misogynistic. “That liar,” he said finally. “She’s history to me.” It was vindictive, maybe, but Jacob was too hurt and heartbroken to care.
“Listen, Jacob,” said Jeremy. “You only have three days left until the Kumi brothers leave. You don’t have to forgive her—and I wouldn’t expect you to—but it’s absolutely imperative that you at least stay civil. Seriously,” he added, making Jacob meet his gaze. “You have come too far and worked too hard to quit on this now.”
Jeremy looked down. “I know,” he said. “Okay. I'll go home tomorrow morning. You can brief me on the excuse for my absence and everything.” Jeremy smile wryly, taking that acknowledgment as all the thanks he knew he was going to get. “But in the meantime…” Jacob paused. “Is it okay if I get blind drunk?” he asked sarcastically as if Jeremy had any say in the matter at all.
Jeremy laughed and patted Jacob on the shoulder, playing along. “You have my blessing.”
***
As Jacob got to work on ruining his liver, Almasi sat in their shared bedroom, crying. She didn't know if Jacob would be coming home tonight. On one hand, she hoped that he would so that she could try to talk things out as soon as possible. On the other hand, she dreaded the confrontation that would arise. Maybe it was better that they have a night apart.
Maybe Jacob would be less angry when he came back if he had taken some time to cool off. It was pretty childish of him to run away like that, she t
hought somewhat angrily, but her heart was too heavy with guilt and sadness to hold that anger for too long. She decided to go take a bath to relax herself a bit.
Even just being in the bathroom that she had been sharing with Jacob gave Almasi a bittersweet mix of emotions. On one hand, this had been her safe and beautiful haven in the past month, and the place where she had spent the most time being happy with Jacob, but on the other hand…
Well, any thought of her husband made Almasi feel a rush of guilt as she remembered the look on his face when he had walked out onto that patio and seen her in Mr. Kofi Kumi’s arms. The shock in his eyes, the horror, and then the intense, seething anger. Almasi had never seen Jacob look so angry, and it scared her. It also made her feel so very guilty.
Although everything had blown up in her face, Almasi knew now that she had been right not to tell him about the diary and the way in which Mr. Kofi Kumi had discovered her secrets. That anger would have been there if she had confessed her stupid mistake to him, she knew it, and now that he had seen what he must have thought to be a betrayal of her contract, of her promise to be faithful to him for the duration of their marriage… he must surely think of her as such a slut.
He must have seen her and thought that she was a total, absolute whore, a woman who could never keep her legs closed when shown the slightest bit of affection. Almasi scrunched up her face in frustration. The worst part was that it wasn’t even close to the truth!
Almasi could deal with fair repercussions for her own actions, but she hadn't even done anything wrong; she hadn’t cheated on him. She had, unfortunately, been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Mr. Kofi Kumi—that vile, evil, manipulative scumbag—he had taken advantage of her vulnerability.
