The (Half) Truth

by Harper, Leddy

  “Honestly, I hadn’t at first. The only reason I even questioned it was because you refused to look at me all day, like you were ashamed or had something to hide. It started to feel a little more believable after a while.”

  Tatum placed her hand on my thigh and scooted closer. “If I looked at you, I would’ve given us away. And let me be real with you for a second, Jay. Standing next to your mom while replaying every second of our morning in my head was not enjoyable. Got it? So, my refusal to make eye contact with you had absolutely nothing to do with you and everything to do with not wanting your entire family—your mother included—to know that you basted my turkey.”

  I covered my face with my hand and let my laughter roll through me. Finally, when I was able to breathe again, I released the longest, harshest, most obvious sigh of relief known to man, like a brick house had just been lifted off my back.

  “Did what Kelsey say really bother you that much?”

  I cleared my throat and dropped my hand to look into her eyes. Here went nothing. “Whether I thought it was true or not, it got me thinking. I know you’ve said that you don’t have an issue if I get it elsewhere—as well as from you—but after today, I realized I’m not okay with that. Not just for me, but for you, too.”

  She didn’t speak, but rather listened intently as I poured out my thoughts.

  “Maybe it was talking about being clean and having been tested, and how neither of us have been with anyone but each other since our exes. But the thought of you being with someone else the night before sleeping in my bed, or leaving here and going to another man’s house . . .” I shook my head, hating the images that came to mind. “I don’t know, Tatum. I don’t like it.”

  “For both of us, right?” she asked, seeking clarification.

  “Yes. I honestly have no desire to juggle more than one woman. I’m not saying I think we should be in an exclusive relationship or anything. Just that maybe it’s safer and wiser if we keep things between the two of us. When the day comes that your ex is single and wants to work things out, or if you happen to wake up and realize you have interest in someone else, then we end what we have. No hard feelings.” God, that tasted awful.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Well, that proved to be way easier than I had anticipated.

  I walked her to the door, but before I let her out, I laced my fingers through her hair and said goodbye with my tongue and lips. I couldn’t imagine ever walking away from her without doing this.

  I barely had the door closed when Aaron came in through the garage. He headed straight for the fridge, grabbed a beer, and strolled into the living room to reclaim his spot in the recliner. I glared at him as I made my way around the chair to the couch.

  “I thought you left. Were you eavesdropping?”

  “No. Not at all. You had the side door into your garage open, so I waited in there. But I have to say, I’m super proud of you. Talking to her about keeping the sex between just the two of you couldn’t have been easy.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re such a dick.”

  “For real though, man.” He became serious, no sign of jest on his face. “I completely understand why you don’t want another guy getting a taste of her before you get your head out of your ass and figure out why you aren’t interested in anyone else.”

  The only thing that saved him from getting pummeled was the taste of Tatum’s lips lingering on mine.

  18

  Tatum

  My nerves had been fried all day, which made my shift fly by, although I didn’t put on my most graceful performance in the kitchen. Luckily, I was with the slow staff today—no one in the kitchen sucked, but there were the ones who could handle the heat and the others who . . . well, had more difficulty keeping up without sacrificing accuracy.

  Rebecca always had Thursdays off, so without Michael’s girlfriend around, Victor typically kept him out of the kitchen. Amanda had Thursday-morning classes this semester, so if she was scheduled, it was for the evening shift. The only person I had to deal with today was Carrie, and oddly enough, every time she stepped foot past the swinging door, Victor leveled her with a stare, and she retreated without saying a word.

  Their interaction intrigued me. It also offered hours of entertainment as I worked on autopilot, imagining what kind of secrets those two kept. I didn’t know much about Fifty Shades, and I had only seen the first movie, but I could totally see Victor dominating Carrie in the red room of pain. I prepared an entire order while envisioning him walking her on a leash.

  I had to switch to something else when my libido took over and had Carrie on her knees in front of him. That took it a little too far, and if I hadn’t put an end to it, I doubted I’d ever be able to look him in the eye again.

  But at least it gave me a little reprieve from the anxiety that coursed through me anytime I thought about the plans I’d made for after work. I’d met up with Jason on Tuesday at his house. He’d gone home for his break and eaten me for lunch. Aside from that, we hadn’t seen each other since Sunday . . . a pattern I wasn’t interested in continuing. So, last night, he had suggested I head over to his house after work today and wait for him.

  It had seemed like a great idea at the time.

  Until I’d woken up this morning and thought about the whole situation—not just the amazing sex I’d get to have. That was when I realized he’d given me access to his house. While he was gone. You know, the kind of thing you do when you’re dating someone.

  I honestly didn’t think I had anything to worry about, considering Jason and I had been very up front with each other about everything. But as far as feelings and what we both wanted or didn’t want, we’d agreed that a broken heart didn’t equate to a broken sex drive. Neither of us was interested in anything other than physical companionship, and that sentiment had been echoed as recently as last weekend. So, I shouldn’t be freaking out, yet I was.

  I was lost in thought as I walked outside beneath the blazing sun to my car. Between the heat, chest pains, and disturbing mental pictures of Carrie and Vic that just wouldn’t go away, I almost missed Amanda heading toward me, screaming my name.

  “I’m going to tell myself you didn’t see me, and you weren’t trying to rush out of here to get away from me.”

  I rolled my eyes and tilted my head to the side in exasperation. “I didn’t even know you were coming in today, Amanda.”

  “Yeah, well, Michael scheduled a meeting for the front of the house before dinner shift today, so I had to come in early.” She tossed her keys into her purse with attitude, her way of telling me what she thought about this meeting without saying the words. She didn’t have to. We all hated his scheduled lectures—I was just thankful this one didn’t involve the kitchen staff.

  “So . . . did you only want to say hi? Or was there some other reason you stopped me from leaving?”

  “Oh yeah, I hear congratulations are in order.” Her dancing brows did nothing to help me understand what she meant by that.

  “Like always, Amanda, I’m going to need more here. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Her gaze dropped to my stomach for a brief moment. “I heard you’re pregnant.”

  If this moment were made into a cartoon, my eyes would pop out of my head and roll on the ground while flames shot out of my ears. “You heard I’m what?”

  “Uh . . . pregnant?” If she dropped her attention to my stomach one more time, there was a good chance I’d stab her in the eyes. “I take it you’re not?”

  “Yes! I mean no!” I was so turned around I had no idea what I was even answering. “No, I’m not. Who said I was?”

  “Well, I, uh . . . several people.”

  “Like who, Amanda? I need names here.”

  “Michael, for one.”

  It took me a second to wrap my brain around that one. I mean, he hadn’t said anything to me, so I wasn’t sure why he would’ve brought it up with the hostess. “Even if it were true, why in the wo
rld would he talk to you about it?”

  “He didn’t talk to me about it as much as I overheard him grumbling about it in his office.” Well, that made more sense. “From what I gather, he asked Rebecca why you left early last weekend. That somehow led to you being pregnant.”

  “Oh my God.” It was like someone had lit a match inside me, making my blood boil. “I ate something bad. Can a woman not barf without it being morning sickness?”

  “Hey,” she said, holding up her hands like a hostage. “I’m just the messenger.”

  I was fed up with being talked about behind my back and annoyed that I couldn’t just set the record straight. Not without admitting I was a liar, that is. As desperate as I was for everyone to stop talking about me like I was a Kardashian, it apparently wasn’t bad enough to sacrifice my own reputation to make it stop.

  I turned my face to the sky and inhaled deeply, calming myself before carrying on with this conversation. “So, he didn’t say anything to you? Or you overheard him complaining about it and asked?”

  “Who, Michael? I just heard him talk shit in his office to Rebecca. He never said anything to me about it. But Carrie did. She wasn’t happy to hear that you’re not only carrying the cheater’s baby, but you’re marrying him, too. She had a few choice words to say about that. And then there was—”

  “Back up.” It might’ve taken me a minute to interrupt, but once I realized I hadn’t heard her wrong, I couldn’t allow her to keep talking when I had serious questions to ask. “Marrying him, too?”

  She pointed to the piece of glass that adorned my left ring finger. I hadn’t taken it off because I liked it, and aside from Rebecca asking about it on Saturday, no one had even noticed.

  “How does a cheap ring on my finger mean I’m engaged?”

  “The fact that it’s on your left hand should answer that question. Although, if you’re more concerned about it being cheap, you should probably think about the guy who put it there. If he’s the kind of boyfriend who would bring a date to your restaurant, then you shouldn’t be surprised when everyone expects him to give you a fake diamond to pacify you during your time of uncertainty.”

  I stared at the silver band and clear piece of glass on my finger, twisting it while wondering how something with such a great story, one that used to bring a smile to my face, could cause so many problems in my life.

  “Why would everyone automatically assume it was Jay?”

  Amanda laughed—at me, though not in a hurtful manner. “Really, Tatum? It took you six months to move on from Michael—or so you say. We’re not stupid enough to believe you jumped from Jay’s bed to someone else’s so quickly.”

  “Fine.” I held up my hand, conceding that point. “This conversation is futile anyway, since I’m not pregnant. Someone should probably tell Michael that. It might make him happy.”

  “Yeah . . . I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to know you’re not turning into your brother.”

  Those words were like a slap in the face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t know, Tatum. I was eavesdropping, remember? I couldn’t exactly jump in and ask why he’d say that.” She narrowed her eyes and shook her head as if she couldn’t believe I’d suggest such a thing.

  “No . . . like what was he saying about my brother?”

  “Something about how he has a bunch of kids with a bunch of different women. Although there was something else about other men. Honestly, I had no idea what he was talking about. I assumed he meant your brother is a man-whore who’s spread his love around, and his exes are all married so they’re like one big family. Who knows. I met him one time at your birthday dinner, and he never struck me as the type.”

  “That’s all he said?” I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  “Basically. He was talking to Rebecca, and after she left, I asked about the pregnancy part—not about your brother. The only thing I really remember him saying was about how he made the right decision by leaving you before you guys got married . . . something about him knowing this would happen. Whatever that means. I brushed it off, because I doubt you would’ve gotten pregnant by another guy while married to him.”

  I was too stunned to speak. Her words just bounced around in my head while I stood there, motionless, my legs practically going numb beneath me.

  “Just so we’re clear . . . you’re not pregnant?” she asked.

  I could only nod. The anger over the rumors and assumptions had vanished, and in its place a sadness and immense pain filled me. Somehow, the betrayal of Michael’s words trumped everything else I’d learned in the last few minutes.

  She’d said something else, but I wasn’t listening, and before I knew it, she’d walked away, leaving me alone next to my car.

  “Who died?” Kelsey asked when I got home.

  “Hope.” I dropped my coat on the floor next to the front door, tossed my keys onto the coffee table, and then fell into the empty spot next to her on the couch.

  She was quiet for so long that I wondered if she’d even heard me, but then she cleared her throat and turned toward me on the sofa. “Considering the severity of this situation, I’m going to ignore the fact that you just threw your jacket on the floor rather than remind you that I’ve asked a million times for you to put it away when you get home.”

  Any other time, I would’ve laughed at her joke. Not that I didn’t find it funny, but I wasn’t in the mood to smile. Instead, I came back with, “And rather than tell you to shut the hell up because I’m in a bad mood, that you’ll just have to deal with where I leave my shit, I’m going to keep it to myself. Shall we pour champagne and toast to our progress at keeping our thoughts to ourselves?”

  It seemed my sarcasm was enough to set the mood.

  She turned and set her sad eyes on me. “I know you always accuse me of not listening to you when you speak, and I always argue and say that I do. But at the risk of making myself sound like a bad friend who never listens to you . . . who’s Hope?”

  I wanted to laugh, but I was too confused by her question to give in to the humor tickling my chest. “Am I supposed to know who it is?”

  “Well, yeah. You just told me she died.”

  Once I realized what she meant, the laughter bubbled out. “No. My hope died.”

  She stared at me, blinking so dramatically I wondered if she expected her lashes to carry her away. “Does this have to do with Michael?”

  “Why? Would you not be interested if it is?”

  “Not in the slightest.” She was such a liar; we both knew she couldn’t ignore me no matter what I had to complain about.

  “That doesn’t seem very fair. You’re supposed to be my best friend.”

  “And as your best friend, I warned you about sleeping with him. You ignored me. And if I listen to you cry over something he’s done, I feel I’d only be enabling you.”

  “Good point. But it’s not about that.”

  “All right, fine. What’s going on?”

  I knew she’d cave. She always did.

  I turned to face her and tucked my leg beneath my bottom on the couch. “Apparently, he dumped me because of Tanner.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. He told you that’s why he broke up with you?”

  “No. He was talking to Rebecca in his office, and Amanda overheard part of it.” I threw my head back against the cushion and huffed, needing to contemplate how to maneuver around the land mines—all the other parts of what had led to this discussion—because I couldn’t tell her that without everything else. The huff was genuine, though. It was seriously exhausting having to edit my own stories to keep Kelsey from finding out what I’d been doing with her cousin behind her back. “Basically, he believed I would wake up one day and want the type of lifestyle Tanner has.”

  “That’s a rather close-minded accusation. Let me guess . . . he assumes you think all relationships are that way just because your brother’s in one?” Leave it to Kelsey to go from one to a hundred in the blink
of an eye.

  “I don’t know. Amanda doesn’t remember everything he said.”

  “Listen, Tater . . .” She placed her hand on my knee and offered the soft, gentle voice she used when playing the supportive role of my best friend—as opposed to when she tried to ease the discomfort by making me laugh. “He’s an idiot, and you’re much better off without him. His reasons for breaking up with you shouldn’t matter. All you need to focus on is the fact that you’re free of him . . . or you should be if you aren’t already.”

  “Oh, I’m so done with him.”

  “Good. Does this mean you aren’t having sex with him anymore?”

  Well, shit. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Now I’d have to convince her I had found someone else to get it on with when I went to see Jason. “Absolutely.”

  “Thank God.” She sighed dramatically. “I was really worried this would end badly.”

  I stared at her, wondering how she didn’t get just how bad this was. Then again, she hated Michael, so any reason for him to be completely out of the picture was considered good.

  “Listen, I know it hurts, and I’m sorry that he’s done this to you, but know it’s for a good reason. Without hearing that, do you honestly think you would’ve completely gotten over him?”

  When I glanced away, pondering how to respond, I noticed the notebook in her lap and the name of a high-end builder written at the top of the page. I pointed to it and asked, “Is this that big break you were hoping for?”

  She had an important showing coming up that could possibly catapult her into the big-time realty market. It was what she’d been working toward, and I knew that took priority over hearing me complain. So changing the subject benefited not only me but her as well.

  “Yeah. I have to head over to Crenshaw in a little bit to take pictures of the house and measure some of the rooms. I’ll have to get new furniture for this one, since nothing I have goes in mansions.”