Love, Lies & The D.A. (18 page)

I join
him at the island and we eat.

“Do
you ever use that hot tub?” he asks.

“A few
times.”

“We
should get in later. After that hike we did this morning… you’ll be amazed how
great your body will feel after.”

“I’m
sure you’re right.”

“You
cook very well.”

“Thank
you. I think. Making sandwiches hardly qualifies as cooking, but I’ll take it.”

“You
seem to know your way around the kitchen.”

“I had
to cover it at school. I’ve never seen myself that way, but I figure if I keep
things simple, I won’t screw it up too badly.”

“I’ll
fix us dinner tonight. Maybe grill us some of those steaks.”

“You
cook?”

“A
little… I follow your philosophy. Keep it simple.”

We
finish lunch and watch a movie and some football, complete with popcorn and
soda. When the sun starts its descent, we head to the hot tub. I am a little
nervous. I hope I don’t gawk at him again. I slip into a little white bikini,
wrap myself in a robe, and head out.

When I
get onto the terrace, I try to ignore the fact that ass-hugging Ralph Lauren
trunks cling to every inch of his well-endowed front… and back. He steps into
the tub, and after I tear my robe away, he stretches out his hand and helps me
in. I have no idea what I was thinking when I agreed to this. I can’t get hot
and sexy images of us having passionate sex in the tub out of my head.

Since
Richard and I broke up, my body has craved sexual pleasure in a way it hasn’t
before, but this is flipping torture. Sure, I’ve pleasured myself a few times,
but there is no substitute for a man who you’re physically attracted to who you
know knows all the right things to do to you in bed. Sitting opposite to him, I
close my eyes, sit back, and relax. I hope that I don’t give him a clue that
while I lie here, I am practically salivating at the mouth and lusting for his
sexual pleasure.

I am
just starting to calm down and relax when he raises one of my feet and
massages, working his thumbs from around my ankle to the arch of my foot and
then my toes. My God, I swear this could be considered foreplay, because what
he is doing to me right now causes all sorts of tension to develop between my
thighs, along with the tingling sensation that runs down my lower back.

My
goodness. Is he purposely trying to seduce me, or is he completely unaware of
what his actions are doing to my body?

Oh,
don’t be naïve, Jada. Of course he knows what he’s doing. He’s made his
feelings for you abundantly clear.

He
moves to my other foot, and as he works, a soft moan spurts out of my lips. I
can’t remember the last time I’ve been this sexually aroused. I try to remember
the last time I was with Richard, and nothing comes to mind. Jonathan snaps me
back to the present when his hands move from my feet and he works his way up my
calf.

Oh God,
that feels good.

I feel
like I’m losing control. I want him to make love to me. I open my eyes, and I’m
startled when I find him staring straight at me. He hooks his arms under my
thighs and pulls me towards him. The look in his eyes are filled with pure
desire. I’m straddling him, and I can feel his erection in the center of my
crevasse; just a few thin strips of fabric are between us.

He
folds me in his arms and draws me close to him. My heart explodes between our
bodies, and my hardened nipples are against his chest. I lean my forehead
against his, and finally our lips touch. He gently braces my head with his
palm, and I wrap my arms around his neck. He kisses me again, but this time I
part my lips, allowing his tongue to slip into my mouth. I open my mouth wider,
letting him deepen our kiss, allowing our tongues to tease and explore each
other. My hands roam over his neck, shoulders, and chest.

His
hands glide over my shoulders and down to my back. He draws me closer towards
him. Kissing my neck, his hands caress my back, and his fingers inch closer to
the ties of my swimsuit.

Suddenly,
I remember that he may very well be the man to ensure that I am sent off to
prison.

I pull
away. My breathing is heavy—so is his. My forehead is still against his. He
kisses me on my cheek then my neck.

“Why’d
you have to be the bloody District Attorney?” I whisper.

“And
why’d you have to be a murder suspect?” he responds.

“Ask
your friends at the SFPD.”

“I don’t
know what you’re doing to me. You’re making me have all these crazy thoughts,”
he says, looking into my eyes and gliding his fingertips over my shoulder.

“Ditto.
I better get out of this tub, or we’ll both end up doing something we regret.”

“Don’t
come looking for me.” He smiles. “I’m going to take a long, long cold shower.”

I
laugh and exit the tub, quickly wrapping myself in my robe. I head to my
bedroom. I never turn to see what Jonathan is doing. Besides, I suspect he
needs a moment alone so he can
collect
himself.

In
the privacy of my room, I pull my
Bobbyphone
from my top drawer and push the speed dial button.

“Happy
New Year, Missy.”

“Same
to you Big Brother. Busy?”

“No.
Just lying by the pool with my Sweetheart.”

“My,
my how things have changed. Tell her I said hi.”

“How’s
Mr. DA?”

“I
think I’m about to lose my frigging mind.”

“Why?”

“He’s
stranded here at the house. He slept over last night.”

“Wait
a minute… What did you say? Are you two seeing each other?”

“No… I
don’t know what we’re doing. We met at a party last night, and I couldn’t drive
home because of the snow. Anyway, he ended up driving me home. Then an
avalanche knocked out the bridge down the street. So he’s stranded here.”

He
explodes into laughter. “Somebody is sexually frustrated.”

“You’re
damn right I am. This is driving me insane. If this ever went to trial, could I
have him thrown off the case?”

“Why?
So you could have all your sexual desires fulfilled? Tell that to the judge
then call me back and let me know how that works out for you.”

“Bobby,
I’m serious. I don’t know how to handle this.”

“Seriously,
this is not an easy situation—”

“Tell
me something I don’t already know.”

“This
is mostly about him. His career. His reputation.”

“Can
he get disbarred for something like this?”

“That’s
a grey area. The best advice I can give you is if you care about him, stay
away. At least until you know what’s happening with the case.”

“That
means I have to get through at least two more days. The neighbors said the last
time an avalanche destroyed that bridge, it took three days just for them to
get a temporary one up.”

“Well,
I wish you good luck.”

I take
a
very long shower after I get off the phone. When I’m done, I turn on the TV in
my room, hoping to watch something that will help me pass the time.

I am
starting to get hungry. I suppose I should see if Jonathan has started dinner
or if I should fix something myself. When I walk into the great room, it looks
like he started. The ingredients are scattered all over the island. However,
something is wrong. He sits on one of the stools, his head between his hands as
he fists his hair between his fingers.

“Jonathan?
Is something wrong?”

He
looks up at me. My skin turns to ice; I can feel something terrible has
happened. Sadness consumes his body, his eyes are red, his shoulders hang low.

“My dad
is dead.”

What?”
I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

“He
and my mom were at dinner, and he had a heart attack. He was dead by the time
he arrived at the hospital.”

“Oh my
God. I’m so sorry.”

I pull
him in my arms. I feel his hurt and pain. That was the very way my dad was taken
away from me. Immediately, all the memories of that day come flooding back.

I
understand what he’s going through, the shock, wanting to believe that there’s
some sort of a mistake and it’s all not true. I hold his hand and walk him over
to the sofa. I know he must be eager to get back to San Francisco. There is no
way we can possibly wait for the bridge to be fixed.

I make
him a cup of cocoa then I call David. I don’t know if he knows.

“Jada.
You two doing okay up there?”

“David…
I have some bad news.”

“What’s
wrong?”

“Charles
died of a heart attack this evening.”

He
goes silent for a moment.

“I’m
sorry to have to tell you this.”

“Is Jonathan
alright?”

“He’s
in shock. Look, I need your help. I know this is difficult for you,
but
we need to get back to San Francisco ASAP. Do you know anyone who has a boat
that can pick us up here and bring me to your house, so we can leave in my
car?”

“Yes,
yes. I can make arrangements, but it won’t be till morning.”

“That’s
fine, the earlier the better.”

“I’ll
call you back with the details. Tell Johnny we’ll be thinking about him.”

“I
will. Thank you.”

“I sit
next to him on the sofa and hold his hand. His pulse runs wild. I’m sad that I
can’t take his pain away. Then I remember his dogs, and I’m sure there must be
things he needs at his house.

“Can I
have your housekeeper’s number?”

He
hands me his phone. “Her name is Delores.”

I call
directly from his cell.

“Good
evening, Jonathan.”

She
sounds older, Spanish, probably in her late fifties or early sixties.

“Hi.
Delores?”

“Yes?”

“My
name is Jada. I’m a friend of Jonathan’s. His dad died this evening, and I’m
going to try to take him back to San Francisco tomorrow in my car. I don’t have
room for Micky and Maggie, though. Do you think you’ll be able to take care of
them till he returns?”

“Sure,
Ms. Jada. Is he okay?”

“As
well as could be expected. It’s been a little shocking.”

“Tell
him I’ll be praying for him and his family.”

“I
will. Thank you. I’ll leave you some cash at the house.”

“Thank
you, Ms. Jada.”

I end
the call.

“Both
she and David send their love and support.”

“Thank
you. Thank you for doing this.”

“No
worries. Is there anything I can get you?”

“No.
Thanks. You’ve done more than enough.”

“Do
you want to be alone?”

He
shakes his head. “No. It’s great having you here,” he says sadly.

I sit
with him in silence for what seems like hours. I glance at my watch after some
time. It’s eight in the evening. I know, at a time like this, food must be the
last thing on his mind, but sometimes, we have to be reminded to eat. I go to
the kitchen. Numerous vegetables are cut up on the chopping board. He had
already prepared some white rice. In the fridge, some steaks are marinating. I
slice it and do a quick stir-fry with the veggies. Dinner is ready in no time.
I set everything on a tray and take it to him.

“Please
try to eat something,” I say, placing it on the ottoman in front of him.

He
smiles gently, but we have no verbal exchange. I fix myself a plate and then
tidy the kitchen.

I
notice he’s wearing a robe. I head upstairs, and his clothing sits in the
washer, clean but they need to be dried. After transferring them, I return
downstairs. I eat and look across at his plate. He’s eaten a little more than
half. That’s great. When Daddy died, I didn’t eat for days.

His
phone rings. I suspect it’s one of his siblings, but I’m not sure.

“I’ll
be there as early as possible tomorrow morning,” he says. “I’m not sure exactly
what time… I’m fine… I love you too… Bye.”

After
clearing away the dishes, I make us some coffee.

“Is
there anything else I can do for you?”

“I
think you’ve done all you can do… I still can’t get over this. This is unreal.”

“I
know how you feel.”

“My
father’s always been as healthy as a horse. He’s never spent a day of his life
in the hospital. He gets regular checkups… How could this happen?”

I wish
I had the answers for him, but I don’t. I went through the exact thing when
Daddy died. It was something I had to come to accept over time, and for me,
that wasn’t easy. God knows what it will be like for him, and being that we’re
just getting to know each other; I have no idea what I could do to ease his
pain. I wrap my arms around him on the sofa, and we sit in mostly silence. At
some point, he drifts to sleep while I lie in his arms with my head on his
chest.

After
a night
with very little sleep, the boat arrives by seven the
following morning. I stop at a gas station to fill up. I take the tracking
device and attach it to a big rig that’s heading in the opposite direction.
They’ll think I’m heading to Nevada, where it looks like that truck might be
going. We stop by his house to pick up his laptop and some bags, and soon we
are on our way.

We
approach the bridge into San Francisco after three-and-a-half hours of driving
in mostly silence. I realize I have no idea where Jonathan lives.

“Where
would you like me to take you?” I ask.

“My
parents’ house.”

I
think I remember the way, so I head on, thankful the San Francisco traffic is
not too bad. We arrive at the house. Many cars are parked outside.

“Is
there anything else I can do to help?” I ask.

“You’re
not coming in?”

“You
want me to?”

“Please,”
he replies softly.

I park
the vehicle, and we head into the house together. I haven’t really processed
any of this, but when we enter the house and Caroline sees her son, it’s a
harsh reminder of what has happened. She wraps her arms around him, breaking
down in his arms.

Pierce
and Daniel seem to be as well as expected under the circumstances. However,
Megan is exactly where I was eleven years ago—locked in her room unable to stop
the tears. Jonathan manages to get in. He is probably what she needs most right
now.

I walk
around the house, keeping busy, trying to help in every little way I can—fix
food, do dishes, whatever would make that family’s life easier. I call my Bay
Front location and ask them to prepare and deliver some hors d’oeuvres.

After
almost two hours, Jonathan has made some progress, because when he emerges,
Megan is at his side. When I see her, I hug her, and as she cries, it’s hard
for my old sad memories not to come back. Tears fill my eyes, but I refuse to
let them fall. I am here to support this family, and falling apart due to my
own sadness is not an acceptable option.

I step
into the bathroom for some much-needed privacy, and I wonder if the family
feels the same way. An influx of people have been coming and going from the
time we arrived, family, friends, coworkers, and associates. I know that at
some point, they’ll want to grieve privately with each other.

At
about three in the afternoon, my
Bobbyphone
rings. I step out onto the
patio for some privacy.

“Hey,”
I answer.

“Jada.
Sweetie, I heard the news. What’s going on?”

“We’re
in San Francisco now. I got a boat to pick us up and get me to David’s house.
We took my car from there.”

“Where
are you now?”

“At
their family home.”

“Is
Jonathan okay?”

“He’s
in shock. I’m just getting to know him… I think he’s okay. He’s been very
quiet. He asked me to come to the house with him so I’m here, offering my
support in any way I can.”

“Send
him my condolences. I know these things can be difficult.”

“I
will.”

“Call
me if you need me, okay?”

“I
love you. Bye.”

I
end the call and feel
his
hands on my shoulders. I turn to face him. He looks very desolate.

“You
okay?” I ask.

“I
needed a break from all these people.”

“That
was Bobby on the phone. He said to tell you how sorry he was.”

He
smiles sadly.

“Thanks
for being here… supporting my family. I know this can’t be easy for you.”

“No
worries. I’m happy to be here.”

“I’m
sorry I abandoned you for all that time.”

“Don’t
worry about it. Megan needed you.”

“You’re
so understanding.”

“You
haven’t eaten since last night. Let me get you something to eat.”

“I don’t
have much of an appetite.”

“Please…
for me.”

He
kisses me on my forehead. “Okay. But not too much.”

I head
to the kitchen and stack an assortment of finger foods onto the plate. I grab
some drinks and return to the patio.

A
woman is there with him, a brunette, maybe my age or slightly older. I feel
like I’m intruding on something.

“Hi… I’m
sorry. Am I interrupting?” I ask cautiously, entering the space.

Jonathan
answers no; she says yes. That’s enough for me to stay put. She stares at me as
if I’m somehow encroaching on her territory.

“Sophie.
I’m sorry, but I can’t do this right now. We’ll have to talk later,” says
Jonathan.

“Fine.
You have my number. Call me, Darling, if you need anything at all… and I mean
anything.”

She
walks away, glaring at me.

“Did I
do something wrong?” I ask.

“No.
She’s just an old flame.”

“Obviously
trying to rekindle a romance,” I reply. “Interesting timing.”

“I can’t
be bothered with her right now. She’s always been an opportunist.”

“Well,
it’s none of my business. Here. Eat.”

I hand
him the plate.

A
while later, I head to the bathroom to wash my hands. I’m leaving the washroom
when Sophie approaches me in the narrow hallway. In fact, she’s standing in my
way. I move to the left—she blocks my path. I move to the right—same thing.

“Can
you please excuse me?” I say firmly.

“I
know who you are,” she hisses.

“That’s
nice. What’s your point?”

“Stay
away from Jonathan.”

“I
wasn’t aware that he was your property.”

“I’m
warning you. You hurt him like you did your ex, and you’ll be sorry.”

I feel
like I’m about to erupt. My blood is boiling, but the last thing I want to do
is start a scene in Jonathan’s family home, especially at a time like this.

“Get
out of my way,” I say as I try to walk past her. She proceeds to push me and
continues to block my path. I’m stunned. I snatch her wrist, twist her arm
behind her back, and shove her body against the wall.

“If
you ever touch me again, I’ll break your fucking arm off,” I whisper in her
ear. “Now do me a favor, stay the hell out of my way and don’t you ever talk to
me again.”

As I
make it to the end of the hallway, I run into Jonathan—literally.

“Hey.
Are you alright?”

“I’m
fine,” I reply, regaining my footing.

Sophie
walks by at the same time, kisses him on his cheek, then says goodbye.

“Did
something happen between you two?” he asks as she disappears.

At
some point, I will tell him about it, but now is most definitely not the time.
He has his father’s death and a lot more important family issues to deal with.

“No.
Everything’s okay.”

He
looks at me suspiciously, but at the same time, his mom calls him, and that is
the end of the conversation.

It’s
9:30PM. I
am exhausted, and the last few visitors are making their
way out. Perhaps I need to head home as well. I can’t seem to find Jonathan as
I look around the massive house. I find his mom in the kitchen.