“If you want us to be together to welcome the New Year.”
“What can I say to get you to stay here with me?”
“Nothing. I don’t want to be here.”
“All right, then. Good-bye, Jessica.”
She didn’t answer, just watched his retreating form—broad shoulders, straight back, strong legs—taking him away from her.
Her pride refused to obey her heart and call him back, say she was sorry and ask him to forgive her. Instead she watched him go, as so many others had in her life, and allowed it to fuel the anger she’d need to help Sissy.
An enraged Jessica Bolton was not a good thing. Soon, a few very specific people were going to find this out.
CHAPTER 13
“W
hat the hell just happened?” Randall saw his brother-in-law returning to the beach and headed his way.
Nathan huffed, still so angry he didn’t know what to do. “Besides Jessica showing her ass, literally and figuratively?”
“Good Lord, man. Your girl definitely has assets . . .” Nathan gave Randall a look. “Hey, I’m just saying she looked good. But to wear that in a group setting? What in the heck was she thinking?”
“We didn’t know about the other couples joining us and even if she had, Jessica doesn’t worry too much about other people’s opinions. Underneath her quietness is a free spirit who probably didn’t think two seconds about her outfit being a problem. What I can’t understand is why she was so stubborn about changing clothes.”
“Sounds like you had to do some convincing.”
“I tried. Didn’t work though.”
“So she isn’t going to rejoin us?”
“She left.”
“Where’d she go? It’s New Year’s Eve. Most of the businesses are going to be closed.”
“Not the airport.”
Randall’s eyes widened. “She’s going home?”
“Yes. Sherri told her to either go change or go pack.”
“Oh man.”
“She chose the latter.”
“I’m sorry, Nate. I know she was angry but Sherri shouldn’t have said that. Maybe there’s still time to catch her at the airport. I’ll go with you and apologize on my wife’s behalf.”
“Unfortunately, Sherri isn’t the only reason for her anger. She feels I sided with my sister instead of taking up for her when all I wanted was for the fight to end. If we did find her and bring her back, I can’t guarantee that another one wouldn’t break out.”
“Wow.”
“I’m going to talk with Sherri, though. Jessica told her she was overreacting and while I didn’t cosign at the time, I think she’s right. She shouldn’t have approached her with so much attitude.”
“Well, that’s probably because of the way one of the wives reacted after seeing her husband’s response. He looked at your woman and licked his lips like she was a pork chop. Ha!”
Nate gave Randall a sober stare.
“Yeah, his wife didn’t find anything funny, either. When they get home, I bet she and the mister are going to have a conversation.”
“I’m sorry about all this, Ran.”
Randall slapped him on the back. “Don’t worry about it. I spiked the fruit punch, so everyone will be feeling better in no time. Come on. Let’s get back to the company.”
Nathan hung out with the couples but his heart wasn’t in it. His head either, for that matter. He was still trying to wrap his mind around why Jessica went off the way she did. Sherri could have approached her differently, but two wrongs didn’t make a right. And in Nathan’s opinion, Jessica’s leaving him was just as bad or worse than his sister’s actions. By the time he put on a casual white linen suit for the New Year’s Eve bash, he was not in the party mood.
He was the only one. When he arrived with Sherri and Randall, the party was in full swing. His normally conservative brother-in-law had gotten island fever, sporting a colorful shirt with a casual suit. Almost immediately, they spotted the neighbors who’d earlier joined them on the beach. Nathan said hello and continued to the bar. To get through tonight, he’d need help.
He found an empty bar stool and waited for the busy bartender.
Jessica would have loved this atmosphere.
The music was thumping. The place was crowded. Handsome men and beautiful women abounded. The main woman he wished was in the room, however, was not there. He put an elbow on the bar and rubbed his brow in weary frustration.
A soothing voice with a lovely, lilting accent drifted into his ear. “The night is too festive for sad faces.”
Slowly, he lifted his head and turned toward the sound. The woman was as pleasing as her voice: tall, slender, with creamy skin and big brown eyes. Clunky, colorful jewelry graced her neck and wrists. Nathan imagined she’d been poured into the halter-style white maxi she wore.
“Who says I’m sad?”
She slid into the seat next to him. “Are you telling me you’re not?”
“No, I’m not.”
The bartender reached them, rapidly toweling down the bar. “What can I get you?”
“Double shot of Hennessy,” Nathan said. “Water back, lots of ice.”
Her laughter was lyrical. “Not much?” She spoke to the bartender. “I’ll have a Goombay Smash . . . light on the rum.”
The bartender nodded and left.
“What’s that?”
“A Goombay Smash? Some call it the official drink of the Bahamas, though that’s mainly tourist talk. Henry makes his with rum, of course, an apricot liqueur, coconut, and pineapple. Goombay is a goatskin-covered drum. It is also a type of music native to our country, similar to calypso.”
“Rum and liqueur in the same drink? What memory are you drowning?”
“Oh no.” She waved perfectly manicured fingers boasting fire-engine-red polish. “My life is good and filled with blessings. I’m drinking to celebrate the coming of a brand-new year!” Her exuberance lifted Nathan’s spirits. “I do believe that was a smile. The night may not be lost after all. By the way, my name is Develia Nixon. Most call me Dev.”
He shook her extended hand. “Nice to meet you, Dev. I’m Nate Carver.”
“It’s very nice to meet you.”
The bartender brought their drinks. Dev held hers up. “Let’s toast to new friends and the New Year.”
“Sounds good to me.”
They toasted.
“So . . . what’s a handsome man like you doing drowning his sorrows at the bar on one of the most celebratory nights of the year?”
“You’re the one who’s determined I’m sad. I told you that wasn’t the case.”
“Perhaps, but the face I saw as I walked up told me otherwise.” She took a sip of her festive tropical drink that had been topped off with Maraschino cherries and orange slices. “Was it a fight with the missus?”
“Why, are you a counselor?”
“I’m a woman who doesn’t like to see a man in pain. And by your answer, I believe my instincts are correct.”
“I’m not married.” He took a drink.
“Did she end up being a runaway bride?”
Another drink. “No. She just ended up running away.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
The band switched from island-flavored sounds to an R & B groove. “No,” he said, standing and throwing back the rest of his Hennessy. “I want to dance.”
And that’s what they did until fireworks lit up the sky, announcing the New Year. At one a.m., Dev pulled Nathan from the club, led him to her two-seater Mercedes, and drove them to a side street near Bay Street in Nassau.
Nathan looked around, surprised at the large crowd gathered at that hour. “What’s going on?”
“Junkanoo!” Dev merrily shouted, reaching behind her to pull out bells, shakers, colorful beads, and a red feather boa. She leaned over and placed the beads over Nathan’s head.
He looked down, then up at her, shrugged, and opened the car door. Within minutes they were caught up in the crowd’s celebratory atmosphere: dancing, playing their instruments, and hugging complete strangers as though lifelong friends.
Just before dawn, Dev pulled into the circular driveway of Château Sherri. “Thank God I know this island. Your directions were horrific!” The laughter that followed showed no hard feelings existed.
“I don’t know what the heck Jugaboo is—”
“June. Kah. New. A Bahamian celebration.”
“Yeah . . . right. Well, thanks to you, and Junkanoo, this night ended much better than it began.” He leaned over. His lips brushed her cheeks. “Thank you.”
Dev eyed him for a long moment before leaning over and pressing her lips against his. “You’re welcome. Take care of yourself. She’s a lucky girl.”
Nathan frowned. “That reminds me. You never answered my question from earlier.”
“Which was?”
“Why a lady as lovely as yourself was at the club alone.”
“It is too early and too peaceful of a morning to recite such a sad tale.” She reached into her handbag and pulled out a card. “If you really want to know . . . keep in touch.”
CHAPTER 14
L
eaving had been a mistake. Jessica had realized that about halfway to the airport, once anger receded and good sense returned. But going back had not been an option. At least that’s what she’d thought. Not with Sherri angry, Nathan upset, and Miss Elaine worried about fisticuffs. So she’d continued on to the airport, paid a king’s ransom to change the ticket, waited two hours to catch the flight, and six hours later opened the door to her home.
Her New Year’s Eve celebration: a bottle of wine, a tasteless frozen pizza, watching the ball drop in Times Square, and staying awake until dawn wondering how her dream vacation became a nightmare.
And over a swimsuit? Really?
When she awoke, sun was streaming through the blinds. She threw her arm over her eyes, not ready for the day. Minutes later, her phone rang. Hoping it was Nathan, she quickly checked the caller ID. Unknown number. Jessica closed her eyes. The ringing stopped but immediately started again. She checked the missed call—same unknown number. She never answered those. But when the phone rang for a third time with the same unknown ID, she huffed, reached over and answered the call.
“Hello?”
“Whew, glad you finally answered.”
“Sissy?”
“Yes.” She laughed. “I knew you’d be surprised at not hearing the automated system.”
“Where are you calling from?”
“I got a cell phone.”
“You can have cell phones there?”
“Not legally. But I needed to be able to speak freely, without being recorded. If you’ve got enough money in here you can get just about anything you want. It also helps that I’m sleeping with one of the guards.”
“Oh. My. Goodness.”
“Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve gone without for months. Did you get yours?”
“My what?”
“Burner phone, a throwaway. I told you to get one in the last letter I wrote. Sounds like you didn’t read it.”
“I just got home.”
“Right, the trip. I forgot. Wait. Aren’t you back early?”
“Uh-huh.” Said through a yawn.
“Big party last night?”
“Huge. A party of one.”
“Where’s Nate?”
“Bahamas.”
“Then why are you home?”
“We had a fight.”
“About what?”
“I don’t feel like talking about it. But what I do need is for you to explain this favor so that I understand.”
“I will, as soon as you buy a temporary phone so we can’t be traced. Take my number and call me back.”
An hour later, Jessica called Sissy from her new burner phone. “Okay, we’re both untraceable,” she said by way of greeting. “So help me understand what you’ve asked me to do.”
“You read the code. I buried it in the story about—”
“—your fake friend, Bobby, who I drove myself crazy trying to remember until I figured out this was where you’d hid the code. Of course I read it. Countless times.” The whole paragraph, but particularly the sentences that contained the message within the message, were burned into her memory.
. . . remember when I had to help our skittish neighbor catch and kill that snake? Remember the one who got blamed? Bobby caught and put it on the porch, blamed me, then lied. “She put it here!” I wanted to slap him. So full of it. Didn’t matter. I adored him anyway. So hot! Can still see him sweat and get dirty playing with his cousin out behind the old coot’s yard!
The message within the message, every sixth word:
HELP KILL WHO PUT ME HERE SO I CAN GET OUT.
“I got the message. I just don’t understand it. Nathan isn’t why you were arrested and are now serving time.”
“No, but his sister is. To go after her is too obvious. I’d be the first one she blamed. An indirect infliction of punishment can sometimes hurt far worse than direct pain. Getting her dear baby brother would be just like getting her.” Sissy recounted what she’d piecemealed to Jessica through several letters, how she’d landed in prison and who was at fault. “If she’d divorced him, just walked away so Randall and I could be happy, no one would have . . . suffered.” When Jessica remained silent, Sissy continued. “I know I’m asking a lot.”
“You’re asking me to take a life!”
“Like they’ve taken mine! Yes,
they
. Don’t think for one second that when it came to me going to prison Nathan wasn’t fully on his sister’s side. I’ll make it well worth your while.”
“There are things more important than money . . . like the freedom you so desperately want.What if
I
get caught and end up in prison?”
“There’s no way that can happen! I’ve researched and analyzed this plan to the nth degree. It is foolproof. But it does require that you and Nathan be together. So whatever the reason you’re home instead of still on the island . . . you need to fix it.”
“What if it isn’t up to me?” Her sister’s laughter only riled her further.
“You’re a woman, little sister. When it comes to men, we can fix anything.”
“Spoken by the expert whose actions to fix it put her behind bars.” Silence. “That wasn’t called for . . . sorry.”
“It’s okay. I guess our not seeing each other for such a long time makes it easier for you to screw the man and befriend the woman who got me locked up.”
“That’s hardly the case. In fact, she’s the reason I came back early.”
“All the more reason that getting back with her brother shouldn’t be a problem.”
Jessica wandered from the bedroom to the kitchen, thinking back to how she’d been treated yesterday, and how to fix it. She remembered Sherri’s uppity judgmental attitude and Nathan’s complicity. They were partying on an island while her sister’s heels cooled in prison. Some of her anger returned.
“Exactly what part did he play in your being there?” A sigh blew through the phone. “Listen, for what you’ve asked me to do, I deserve to know everything.”
“You’re right.” A pause, and then, “He encouraged his sister against me, okay? Trust me, I’d rather end her breathing. But like I said, it would be too risky. Getting her darling brother is the next best thing. They’re
very
close.”
“Like I wish we could have been.”
“No more than I do. When I saw that our jerk of a dad was getting ready to do the same thing to you that he’d done to me for two years, I couldn’t take it. You were the best thing that had happened to me in that hellhole. I couldn’t let him hurt you.”
“So you—”
“—made sure he couldn’t hurt you. I did what needed to be done. Now I’m asking you to do the same.”
“We’ll see what happens when he returns,” she finally offered. “If we get back together, I’ll make sure things get handled.”
“Not
if
you get back together,” her sister softly chided, “But
when
.”
Jessica had taken off until the fifth but didn’t want to sit around the house. Too much time to think. The law firm had brought on a temporary receptionist, but thankfully her boss had texted his okay for her to return early from vacation and catch up on administrative tasks. After chatting briefly with the temp, she grabbed a large stack of papers, folders, and tags, and headed to the smaller conference room to sort and file.
Perfect
, she thought as she stepped inside and closed the door.
Work to keep me busy and a door for privacy!
Or not.
Ten minutes into sorting papers to be filed, the door opened. “So I heard correctly. You’re back.”
She looked up to see the only person in the law firm, perhaps the world, who today would not get on her nerves, so she swallowed the curt greeting on the tip of her tongue and offered a brief smile instead. “Hey, Vincent.”
His brow immediately creased in concern as he closed the door and approached the table. “Wow, that’s not the mood I expected of someone just back from paradise.”
“We don’t always get what we expect.”
“Are we talking about me or you?”
Jessica gave him a look, then went back to sorting.
“Whatever he didn’t do, I can do it, and whatever he did, I can take the pain away. KnowhatI’msayin’?”
His expression was such a perfect mixture of jive and sincerity that Jessica had to laugh. “You are so silly. How you got through law school is beyond me.”
“Hard work and a smile, baby girl.” He sat at the table and lowered his voice. “I thought you were away until the fifth?”
“Plans changed.”
“Folks don’t usually return early from vacation, especially when they’re going to the Caribbean.”
Jessica frowned. “I don’t want to talk about my vacation. How were your holidays?”
Vincent shrugged. “They were all right. Went back to Michigan, saw the fam.”
“And . . . ?”
“That’s it.” Vincent sexily swiped his tongue across his cupid-shaped lips and looked down to hide the twinkle in his eye.
“You’re so full of it!” They both laughed. “Don’t tell me you partied with your baby’s mama.”
“I shouldn’t have.”
“And y’all had sex again.”
“I shouldn’t have done that, either.”
Jessica shook her head as she placed stacked groups of files into folders. “Your daughter is what? Nine years old? Keep on playing with fire and end up with a newborn.”
“It wasn’t that deep, just a little get-together for old time’s sake. It’s all your fault, anyway.”
“How do you figure?”
“Because you’re who I wanted to be with. She was just there.”
“Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Feed me bullshit like I’m stupid, the way my ex used to do. You need to stop messing with that girl’s feelings.”
Vincent stood, eyed Jessica through his curly lashes. “Will you let me mess with you?”
She looked up to find Vincent watching her intently. She felt the electricity between them and not for the first time thought that if there was any part of her heart that didn’t belong to Nathan, she’d give it to him. “Don’t you have work to do? A case to win, a client to call . . . something?”
Vincent looked at his watch. “Actually, yes, in about five minutes.” He walked to the door. “What’s up for lunch?”
“You’re taking me to Georgia’s. I want gumbo.”
“If I give you what you want, will you give me what—”
“Bye, Vincent.”
Vincent smiled and opened the door. “Meet you downstairs at one.”
She met him downstairs for lunch and the next night at the sports bar for dinner. Her guard slipped under two glasses of wine. His tongue slipped into her mouth in the parking lot. The kiss was volcanic. It felt good. He felt good. The only reason that they didn’t slide back to either his house or her house and slide into bed was because as angry as she still was with Nathan . . . sliding with him felt better.