Mine, Not Hers (True Love Book 1) (17 page)

Katie

Colleen is bouncing in her chair. Just spit it out, for God’s sake!

“Well, it would seem our Ms. Cynthia attended Northwestern!” she says.

I look at her like she’s lost her mind.

“That’s
it? That’s
your big news?” I practically scream at her. I know I’m looking at her like a crazy person. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Colleen. Who cares if she went to Northwestern? That must be how she knows Jason!”

Poor thing looks dejected.

“Well, I know! That’s the point. He must be old friends with her or something, and that’s how she knows him.”

“I get it Coll, but we live in Chicago.
Lots
of people here went to Northwestern, but they don’t have their hands on my husband and freak out when they see me!” I realize I’m raising my voice, and the feeling that I had almost lost is creeping back. “What the hell?”

“Well, that’s not all. Last night, she came down to the bar. It was packed with conference attendees. Tom and I were sitting with a group in the corner, and I had a great view of her. She changed into a
very
revealing dress that even Tom couldn’t help but notice when she walked in.  She walked straight to the bar, and in a matter of minutes was surrounded by men all trying to buy her drinks.”

“She chose one, not even the best-looking one, with a ring on his finger. They sat and had a couple of drinks, then I saw her place her hand on his leg and move it toward his crotch. Poor guy looked like he’d swallowed an egg! She whispered something to him, and he paid the bill and followed her out. About thirty minutes later, we were still in the bar when she came back! She played the whole scene out again. Tom was stunned. That’s something men only read about in
Playboy.
She seemed depressed, never really smiling unless she was trying to charm someone. Kat, that’s not normal behavior. The woman clearly has major issues.” She looks hopeful.

“Is that really supposed to make me feel better? A woman who goes through men at a bar was also seen with
my
husband in a bar together on Valentine’s Day?” I burst into tears. Melanie and Colleen rush over and give me a group hug. Colleen speaks first.

“Kat, all I meant was that she’s a slut! Jason would never associate with anyone like that on any level, even if he were single. She’s not his type no matter what she looks like. She’s trash, and he doesn’t mingle with trash.”

She says it so definitively, that it makes me stop crying. She’s one hundred percent right. Whatever the reason for them being together, I know Colleen hit the nail on the head. Whether or not he and I were together, he wouldn’t hang around a woman like that. I wipe my face, and stand up.

“I’m going to talk to him right now. This is so foolish. You both stay here, I’ll be back soon and we’ll have a great day with all this bullshit behind us.”

I give them both a big smile, and head home.

Katie

“Honey? Jason?” I call out when I enter the house. It’s really quiet. I tiptoe upstairs, thinking maybe I’ll luck out and catch him getting dressed. I open our bedroom door, and the poor thing is sound asleep. He looks so handsome and so young when he sleeps. He’s wearing only a pair of gray workout shorts, and he looks yummy. I near the bed and see that he’s tangled in the sheets. I try my best to straighten them without waking him, and I cover him back up. I run my hand along his jaw and he moves just a little. I kiss him on his hair-God he smells good-and tiptoe back out the door. I’ll go back to the girls and we can all get together later. He never gets a chance to rest, so I let him sleep.

I pass by the home office as I head out the front door, and I hear a text message notification. He doesn’t text a lot, never in business, and it’s usually just to me. Curiosity gets the better of me, so I head in to see who it is. The text is still on the lock screen so I can read it clearly. It’s from a number I don’t recognize.

Did you find out anything? You better tell me what she knows, or I’ll have to go to her.

I feel myself getting sick, and I run to the bathroom just in time. I haven’t eaten today, so there’s nothing but a little coffee coming up and a lot of dry heaving. I have to get back and read more. Against the screaming protests in my head, I go back to his office. I pause for a second to see if he’s awake, and it’s quiet so I grab his phone. Jason has never had a passcode on his phone; he’s never had to. We’ve always respected each other’s privacy, but we also have nothing to hide. I feel sick doing this. I swipe the text to open the message stream. It’s a local area code, but I’ve never seen the number. There are cryptic messages from what seems to be a woman. Her tone is threatening, and his tone is defensive. Nothing concrete about a relationship, but they clearly have one of some kind. I feel a dagger through my heart. The phone buzzes again with a new message, same number. It’s a photo.

I open the photo and it’s
her
getting fucked from behind. I think I’m going to throw up again. I hear Jason’s footsteps upstairs, and I quickly forward myself the picture then delete it from his phone. A strange wave of calm washes over me, and I set his phone back carefully, just the way it was.

I leave his office, head out the front door and close it silently behind me. I start to shake uncontrollably as I make the walk down to Melanie’s house. I open her door, and they both rush me.

“Oh my God! What the hell happened? You’re white as a ghost!” Melanie guides me to the living room and sits me down on the sofa. Colleen carries a glass of red wine and hands it to me. This isn’t what my stomach wants right now, but I need something to calm my nerves or I’ll never speak again. They're perched like two little parakeets, side by side, at the edge of the sofa waiting for me to speak. I hand Colleen my cell without saying a word. She doesn’t quite understand until she turns it on. She sees the picture, and pales. Melanie grabs it and screams. “What the fuck is that? Who sent you that?”

They both stare at the photo and then back at me until I find my voice.

“She sent that to Jason this morning,” I squeak.

Colleen makes the photo larger.

“Oh my God, that’s the first guy from the bar last night. What the fuck, why is she sending that to Jason?”

I shoot her a bitchy look. Does she really want me to answer that question? She is properly ashamed.

“I’m sorry, hon, you know what I mean.”

And I do.

“Where was Jason when you got home? Did you talk to him? Does he know about this?” Melanie asks gently.

“He was taking a nap when I got home, so I didn’t wake him. I heard a text coming in to his phone so I checked it. That’s what popped up.”

“Did you look at the message stream? Anything else?” Colleen is trying to recover.

“Yeah, I did. It was strange. He seemed angry with her in most of the texts, and it seemed as if she was threatening him. She did mention seeing me, and he said he needed to find out what I know.”

That was hard to say out loud. It makes this whole thing more real. I know the right thing to do is go to him directly and show him what I’ve seen. The problem now is that I know for sure he’s hiding something, and I have to find out first what it is. What is his relationship with her, and why is she sending him these photos? Right now, I don’t think I can look him in the face without giving myself up. I’m crushed.

Jason

I’m famished. That run really took it out of me this morning and I need some fuel. I head down to the kitchen to make a sandwich. I miss Katie and the kids. I’m never here alone this much, and it’s way too quiet without them. I can’t lose them; they're my entire world. I’d give away every cent I have just to keep them safe. I’m tired of being threatened; it’s time to pull the trigger. I’ve had such a stressful week, and I can’t even talk to Katie about it. She’s the only stress reliever that works for me. I can run as hard and fast as I can, lift weights or box, but none of it calms my nerves like five minutes of staring into her face.

My head feels a bit clearer now that I’ve gotten some exercise, a nap and some food. May as well try to get a little paperwork done while the house is quiet. My phone buzzes when I walk around my desk. It’s
her
. Fuck.

Did you get my picture? How does it feel, huh? You like seeing me fuck a random guy? Enjoy it.

What picture? I know if I don’t respond, they’ll get worse and with more frequency. I have to stop her. It’s just a matter of time before Katie sees something she shouldn’t and jumps to the wrong conclusion. I text her back:
Wow, that’s hot. Where can I meet you?

She’ll fall for that, I know.

My hotel where the conference is. I have a nice big room where you can fuck me, FINALLY

Perfect.
Can’t wait. What time?

She responds immediately; she’s excited.
Meet me in the bar at eight. Don’t make eye contact;
just follow me up to
Room 532. I’m already wet.

God, I hope I’m ready for this.

Cynthia

It takes time, but I learn about my man, Mr. Weber. He grew up in the Chicago suburbs, a real sports hero. Graduated with honors, went to Northwestern for his undergrad and P.T. degrees and is almost finished with his doctorate. Apparently he married his high-school sweetheart. Gag. That one will be
really
easy to go around. She probably got knocked up in high school and trapped him. Once he sees what he’s been missing all these years, he’ll be on his knees begging for more. I’ve tried a few times to get him alone after class, but he usually makes a hasty exit with the announcement that if we need him, to please email and we can set up a meeting. Well, that’s even better. Alone is
always
better.

I send him an email to tell him that I’m really lost in class and could use some help. That’s a laugh. I could pass this class in my sleep. We arrange to meet in the conference room by the science offices on Monday at one. He’s shrewd, no meeting in private spots. Those conference rooms are surrounded by glass. This is just the first step. I have to be patient.

I’m already waiting for him in the room at 12:45 p.m. so I can watch him walk down the hallway. I want to see his reaction when he sees me. I love the way men gawk when they first take notice. I see a tall shadow coming down the hall; it must be him. The offices are quiet; I think everyone is out to lunch. Maybe it will be private after all. He’s looking down at a book as he’s walking. Pretty impressive; he doesn’t look up because he clearly knows his way around the place. Here he comes! He opens the door and looks at me. I’m wearing my sheerest button-down blouse with a lacy white bra underneath that’s visible. I have on a pair of white shorts that are even shorter than the ones I wore to class the first day. My top covers them so it looks as if I’m naked underneath. My legs are long and tan, and I have them carefully stretched out to the side so he can have a full view. My hair is down, just covering the front of my blouse. When he looks at me, I purposefully toss my hair over my shoulder so that my shirt is exposed. This is a practiced maneuver that I make seem innocent. He looks right into my face. His eyes never move, not even a little. He is all business, shit! He may end up being a tough nut to crack, but that makes the chase all the more fun. I haven’t had to work at getting a guy in a long time. Well, ever, really.

He’s in his work clothes: khaki pants, and a royal-blue polo with his practice’s name embroidered on the chest. The sleeves are straining around the muscle in his arms, and the pants make his bulge stand up and say hello. I’d love to say hello right back. He questions me on the exact points I’m having trouble with, shows me some websites to help, and explains, in detail, what our next lab will cover. His eyes never once leave my face, or seem the least bit unnerved at my looks. I don’t just have a great body; I know I’m stunning to look at. He looks at me as if I’m any other student, male or female, on any given day. He’s going to make this fun for me.

I find out where his office is, and, thankfully, it’s not far. I can pass by it innocently without having to make detours. This way, when I run into him, it will seem believable, which is exactly what happens the following week. I find out his schedule at the university. Not really hard to do since he has it posted on the website. He is booked every second of his day, it seems, taking classes, teaching classes or seeing patients. I don’t know when he gets a chance to go home and see his lovely wife. I bet he has a really bad case of blue balls. God knows I could suck him dry in a matter of seconds and go back for more.

There’s a coffee shop within view of his practice. On Wednesday mornings he’s at the university until twelve. I overheard him say he’s usually in his office for patients by two, thanks to an inquiring young P.T. wannabe in our class. I post up at the coffee shop and wait. Sure enough, ten minutes until two, he shows up. I see his car pull into the parking lot and that’s my cue. I hop out of the coffee shop and head up the sidewalk so he’ll be forced to pass me. I pretend to be looking away, but drift over to his side of the walk. We gently bump into each other, God his body is tight, and he looks up to apologize.

“Mr. Weber! I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you OK?” I toss my hair while I ask. He grins.

“Yes, of course, I’m fine. No harm, no foul. Are you OK?”

This is my chance. I change the subject entirely.

“Is this your office? What a great building!”

He’s proud of it. “Yeah, this is it. I hope to expand on it someday soon.”

He starts to walk away, but I’m not missing my chance for him to notice me.

“I’d love to see inside. I might go into the medical field, I’m just not sure yet.”

I’ve got him hooked. How can he say no to a student?

“Sure, why not. I have a patient in a few minutes, but I can show you around once I get him started on the machines.”

I’m good, it’s really not fair.

I take advantage of the time I have alone. The receptionist seems friendly, so I buddy up to her to get some information.

“This is a great place. Do you like it here? Does Mr. Weber work late? I know how busy he is.” I seem like any other clueless student.

“He does have a crazy schedule. He works late many days, so he can eat dinner with his family and come back at night. He such a great guy.”

She seems a bit infatuated with him herself. Stay back, bitch. The phone rings, and she turns her back to answer and look at the schedule. There is a list of phone numbers tacked to her desk wall. Hospital, pharmacies, supply reps and bingo! Jason’s cell! I commit it to memory and turn to store it in my phone. Just in time, she turns around and smiles.

“Would you like a quick tour of the office?” She stands.

“Yes, please!” I say, a bit too over-eager.

“We get a lot of interested students who come here. Mr. Weber is great at mentoring those who want to go into the medical field, in particular physical therapy. Are you thinking about P.T. school?”

Maybe now I will. “I’m not sure yet, still thinking about my options.” Your boss being the best one.

She shows me around the practice, and it really is cool. We pass by his office, and there are pictures everywhere of his wife. I can’t help but stare at them. High school, wedding, everywhere. He has a smile on his face in them that I’ve never seen before. It’s like he’s a different person, somehow even hotter. Jesus, his teeth are perfect. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen them before.

She notices me looking at them.

“Aren’t they cute? Been together since high school. He adores her. His schedule rotates around seeing her. If I could ever find a man like that, right?” She smiles, a hopeful idiotic smile.

Well, I’m not smiling. I don’t find the notion of the two of them together adorable. I know he’s faking it. After all this time, he has to be. She’s not even pretty. She’s little and plain. What the hell does he see in her? Who could fuck that forever and be happy? I remind myself that it’s only because he hasn’t had me yet. Oh, just wait, Mr. Weber, have me you will and you will never look back.

As I revel in my thoughts, he walks over and interrupts.

“I see that Julia has given you the tour. I need to oversee this patient so I can’t show you around today. Ever have any interest in coming back, just call Julia and she’ll let me know.”

He turns quickly and walks away.

I have his cell number. Just debating now if it’s too early to send an anonymous picture of my tits. It may just serve my purpose. Number one, get his engines running, and number two, if his wife finds it, even better. I lie back on my bed, and position my tits just right. Snap and send. I make sure there’s nothing to give me away in the background, and I blocked my number.

This isn’t my first time to the circus.