When the Heart Lies Page 10

  His head reeled back. “What the hell am I supposed to call you?”

  “How about Kinsley? Or don’t talk to me at all. That’d be fine.”

  Savannah stood, went to the coffee pot, and as she poured, snickered, “Even her name sounds stuck up.”

  Kinsley ignored her and opened her book.

  Wayde snatched the book roughly from her hands. She’d had a firm grip, and she nearly followed it to the trashcan.

  “Why don’t you be sociable? You need to forget about your old life and try getting along. Shit.”

  “Hell, I’d even try to get along with her if she wasn’t such a bitch all the time,” Savannah said. “I can hear Remy’s truck in the driveway. He ain’t gonna put up with her talkin’ to me the way she does.” Her head wobbled a warning in Kinsley’s direction.

  “I’m not afraid of Remy.”

  Savannah squinted her eyes, looking evil. “You should be. Never know what he’ll do when he gets mad.”

  Remy was creepy, and she found out from Veda he’d been in jail for beating his wife a few times. Sometimes she wished she could hold her tongue, but when she got angry, the thing seemed to flap on without her. Now more than ever, she worried she’d go too far.

  “I don’t understand why you’re so ornery,” Wayde said. “Have a few drinks with us. You’ve been in a mood since you came home, and I ain’t putting up with no more crap.”

  She decided she had better stay quiet and go along. Pretend. After all, going along had been her first instinct. Unfortunately, she’d been pretending for so long now that life before Wayde seemed make-believe. Some story she’d read. “You’re right. I should relax and have a few drinks. Savannah, why don’t we start over. I’m willing to try if you are.”

  Savannah didn’t respond and darted up from the table right away when Remy came in rubbing the stubble on his shaved head and chewing on the toothpick that rarely left his mouth.

  “Wha’d you want to drink, baby?” Savannah said.

  Before responding, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close, kissing her. He maneuvered his tongue around and around. Apparently, he was trying to find out how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop.

  Repulsive.

  “Sweet tea, baby.” Remy pinched Savannah’s ass, sent her on her way, and turned to Wayde. “So, the Queen’s back. I can only imagine what you’re gonna hit her with when you git her between the sheets tonight. Hit her once for me, too.”

  Kinsley envisioned herself leaping over the table and ripping Remy’s eyes out for that nasty statement. She began quivering inside and stood to leave to keep herself from acting out the scene. “All right, enough, I’m going to bed.”

  When she got up to leave, Wayde grabbed her arm and pulled her so hard she fell back onto her seat. It shocked her.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Let go of me. I said I’m going to bed.” She was convinced now. She should start playing the part of the submissive doormat. To say it’d be difficult would be an understatement. She naively thought she’d be able to leave easily.

  “Have a drink, darlin’. By the time we go to bed, you won’t think it’s such a bad idea. We’re going to have some fun tonight.”

  She took the bottle from him, sat back down, and poured herself some vodka. She didn’t take her eyes off him and drank the shot down in one gulp, not allowing him to see it tasted awful and burned raw the lining of her throat. She was done giving him the satisfaction of seeing how he intimidated her. It was hard enough to admit he did.

  Chapter 8

  Before getting ready for dinner, Jackson took an hour and searched the internet. Not much luck with addresses. Wayde seemed to like PO boxes, and he appeared to be uncommonly transient up until the last ten years, when he began working and living in Orangevale. There were no name changes, previous jobs, or insurance records, and his DMV records added nothing to the investigation. After blowing out an exaggerated breath, he closed the computer and went to get ready for dinner.

  He was finishing dressing when Olivia’s knock came.

  “Jackson, it’s me.”

  He hollered over his shoulder and continued tying his tie. “C’mon in. I left it open, and I’m not even naked.”

  As she walked in, she assessed his reflection in the mirror. “Nice suit. I approve.”

  “Thanks, you look nice, too.”

  She wore an ivory silk dress. She usually wore black or red. The dress hung only a couple inches above the knee, long for her. He gave his tie one last adjustment and turned around to face her.

  “We’d better head to the restaurant.” Olivia said. “We don’t want to keep Xavier waiting.”

  As they entered Chez Armand, Jackson slipped his hand around Olivia’s waist launching their little masquerade. The restaurant was elegant and upscale. An assortment of midnight blues and grays complemented the candlelit chandeliers hanging low above the tables that were adorned with fresh floral arrangements.

  “We’re with the Wentworth party,” he said.

  “Right this way, please.”

  The maître d’, an expressionless, stuffy, little fat man, whose chin squished down as an extension of his neck, took them into the dining room, wobbling as he walked. He led them to a table with a bay window overlooking a garden seating area with small white lights in the flowering trees. Xavier and Nick stood to greet them. Again, Xavier took Olivia’s hand and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He broke the connection quickly, and turned his attention to Jackson.

  “Jackson, this is my wife, Angela, and my son, Nick.”

  Xavier tilted his head toward Nick and Angela. “You’ve both met Olivia.” Angela scanned him and pulled at her earring with a distracted smile.

  Jackson smiled and nodded in Angela’s direction. “Ma’am.” He and Nick shook hands. “Nice to meet you, Nick.”

  The maître d’ stood holding Olivia’s chair and waited for them to sit. The waiter appeared promptly to take their drink orders and suggested the entrées of the evening. When he left, he gave a slight bow.

  “Olivia, what on earth are you doing here all the way from Le Grand?” Angela said, pulling at her earring again as she shot Xavier a glare.

  Olivia flashed a pert smile. “I’m doing some work here for a couple of days.”

  Tight-lipped, Angela arranged her napkin as she placed it on her lap. “How nice.”

  The two women resembled felines, purring at each other rather than clawing to keep things civilized.

  “Yes, very nice,” Olivia said, glancing at Xavier. Angela noticed.

  “So, Jackson, what do you do?” Angela asked.

  From her tone, the question was obvious. What’s your status? And he found it annoying. He maintained eye contact with a challenging stare. “I’m a cop. I work in Olivia’s precinct in Le Grand.”

  “Really? You and Nick have at least one thing in common … remotely.” She flipped her hand dismissively. “Nick’s a lawyer.”

  Nick’s head darted up when Angela made the tactless statement. She might as well have said, “My son’s better than you are.” The eye Xavier gave her was nothing less than a warning.

  “That must be a very exciting line of work,” Xavier said. “I’ve always admired police officers for their bravery.” He lifted his glass. “Heroes every day.”

  “That’s for sure. I could never be a cop.” Nick’s comment followed Xavier’s offhandedly, but sounded genuine.

  “He’s a terrific cop. One of the best.” Olivia gave Jackson an admiring smile.

  Jackson never mentioned he’d been a prosecuting attorney in Le Grand for years, and Olivia knew him well enough to know he could care less about the conclusions people might make about him. They made small talk over dinner. Nick seemed personable, thus far, and Xavier appeared to be over his displeasure with his earlier questioning. The food was delicious, and he was able to assess the family dynamics, specifically Nick’s character. The three Wentworths looked as if they
were relatively comfortable with each other, in a superficial sort of way.

  “It might be fun for the three of you to go out after dinner,” Xavier said. “Nick, maybe you could show them around town.”

  Nick swallowed his mouthful of steak too soon. Stretching his neck, he gulped before getting any words out. “I’d love to.”

  “Great, what do you think Jackson?” Olivia said.

  “Fine with me.” He draped his arm over her chair, leaned back, and continued to observe their interactions.

  “Ah, shit.” Nick said as is head dropped to the side. He grimaced, pinching his forehead with his fingers.

  “Oh, Lord,” Angela added and looked in every direction, avoiding the sexy red head coming their way. She stopped as the woman came closer and glared at Nick. “She has some nerve. Get rid of her.” She turned to Xavier. “Xavier?”

  Xavier raised his brow and opened his hands with a shrug delivering the universal ‘what the hell would you like me to do about it’ gesture. Nick appeared to be over it and smiled as she approached.

  The woman flipped her phony red hair over her shoulder and sat her abundant ass on the chair between Jackson and Nick. She slung her arm casually around the back of Nick’s chair. Leaning in, she flashed him a choice view of the cleavage spilling from her sausage-tight, emerald dress. “All alone again tonight, Nick?” she said in a sultry voice. “Where’s that wife of yours been hiding?”

  Nick pulled his salad fork from his mouth, leaned back into his chair and patted his lips with his napkin. “Now, Stephanie, what would be the point of her hiding, if I knew where she was? I rather like a mystery.” He dragged his finger along the neckline of her dress, smiling. “Don’t you?” The only response he got was the budding of her nipples beneath the thin fabric of her dress.

  Things were getting interesting. No doubt Jackson would get the slant on Nick’s character now. He couldn’t quite place where this little interruption was going.

  Red-faced, Angela shook her head and smiled. “Oh Nick, really. Of course he knows where she is. Kinsley’s in Florida visiting relatives with Max.” She toyed with her silverware keeping her eyes lowered as she spoke. “Her mother’s been ill.”

  Jackson looked from Xavier to Olivia to Angela. All three straightened up and became quiet. Their eyes wandered about the table. The only one looking at anyone was Jackson, and he wasn’t going to miss the show. He hadn’t been expecting entertainment, but Nick’s initial response to seeing this gorgeous red head didn’t seem favorable, and Angela’s lying sweetened the mix. Sitting right next to them was like having a box seat.

  The woman was cozying up to Nick in a big way, but it appeared she wasn’t someone who warranted an introduction. She pulled him in closer and whispered in his ear. “Take me for a ride when you finish up here.”

  Nick’s expression turned dreamy, except for the sly grin paired with the light in his eyes. “I suppose I could take you for a ride,” he said, speaking in an oddly normal volume, in contrast to her whispering.

  “You certainly have before,” she whispered, a little louder this time as she played her fingers in the nape of his loosely curled, collar-length hair.

  Nick looked into her eyes and placed the back of his hand softly against her cheek.

  The two had the entire table’s attention, except for Olivia’s. She kept knocking Jackson’s leg with her own under the table. He supposed she wanted him to stop staring. Good luck with that. He had a hunch this was going to be one of the most interesting family dinners he’d ever attended.

  So, I’ll meet you later at the bar?” she said to Nick.

  “I’d love to meet you.” The back of his hand slid slowly from her cheek to the curve of her neck. “Except I can’t because you just reminded me of something.”

  She smiled, lifting one shoulder. A modern day Marilyn Monroe. “What’s that Nick?”

  One brow rose, and he pitched his head to the side, answering in a humorless tone. “Why I married Kinsley instead of a gold digging slut like you.”

  The women gasped. Jackson covered his mouth with his fist and pretended to clear his throat while attempting to hold back laughter. Not because the comment was funny, but because of the absurdity of the statement. Were Nick’s balls actually this big, or were they just the best money could buy? Witnessing this scene almost made up for having to fly to New York.

  “Jesus Nick,” Xavier said, grimacing and shaking his head.

  She stood and slammed her chair into the table. “I’m no more of a slut than you are, Nick, and everyone knows it.”

  “You’re right, Stephanie. Only difference is, I was plowed when I screwed you. If I hadn’t been, I would’ve remembered that you don’t know how to keep your mouth shut.” The unavoidable slap in the face came fast. It was brisk, but no more than a provocation. Everyone stared at Nick as Stephanie stomped away.

  Both of Nick’s hands flew into the air and his mouth opened. “What? You can’t deny she had it coming.” He glanced around the table. When no validation came, he shrugged and returned to his steak.

  Angela cut in. “I have to excuse myself to go to the ladies room and freshen up.”

  Once she left, Olivia turned her attention to Xavier. “Xavier, do you think I could talk to you in private for a few minutes.”

  “Sure. Let’s go over to the lounge.” Xavier stood and held his hand out, signaling to Olivia to take the lead as they headed in that direction.

  Olivia’s maneuver effectively gave Jackson the time alone he’d need with Nick. Once Xavier and Olivia were out of sight, both he and Nick began to talk at the same time.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” With a nod, he signaled Nick to continue.

  “No worries.” Nick said. “Just tell me to mind my own business if I’m being too forward. Are you two exclusive?”

  Evidently, Nick wasn’t the type of guy who hinted around. His direct nature would make Jackson’s job a lot easier.

  “No. Not at all. We’re friends—with benefits, occasionally.” He wasn’t comfortable labeling himself and Olivia that way, but he was posing as her date. Chances were he’d have to remind her of that. “Feel free to tell me to get lost, too—when I ask you what the hell just happened?”

  Nick threw his glance in the direction Stephanie hightailed it to after she laid one on him and huffed away. “Like my mother said, she has some nerve. The woman nearly cost me my family. I took her out a few times. She got clingy and the entire club found out about the indiscretion within weeks. Happened nearly six years ago. I suppose she thought my wife would dump me. Kinsley’s not like that. She kept it in the family, and it blew over. We had our issues over it.” He motioned toward the lounge where Xavier and Olivia went. “You probably guessed. “That―has nothing to do with business.”

  Jackson laughed. “Yeah, she told me about him ahead of time.” He wondered if Nick knew anything about what was going on with Kinsley. Xavier and Olivia stayed tight-lipped about Nick’s role when it came to Kinsley, and Nick talked about her as if she was still with him.

  Nick widened his eyes briefly. “Sounds like a nice arrangement.” He lifted his chin toward the lounge. “She followed him around like a puppy dog for years.”

  Unable to imagine Olivia exhibiting puppy-like behavior, he smiled. “Are you sure you don’t mean Rottweiler?”

  They laughed.

  “I’m sure she could be that, too,” Nick said. “Sexy woman, though. No disrespect, but I’d take a shot at her myself, if I didn’t think he might be love with her.”

  The way Nick talked—infidelity was the most natural thing in the world. It didn’t appear he was trying to impress him either; clearly, this was his typical line thinking.

  “Told me she couldn’t break him down in the long run, and he broke it off,” Jackson said.

  “I don’t see why she couldn’t. He and my mother have been in separate bedrooms for a few years now. I guess they never recovered from the affair. The guy makes me co
me across like a vulture. He’s always doing the right thing, nearly a saint, other than Olivia for Christ’s sake.”

  Jackson took a sip of his drink and stared at the glass he was rotating slowly in his hand. “Everyone has their secrets.” He met Nick’s eyes.

  Before long, they picked up the conversation where they’d left off. When Angela came back from the ladies room, they immediately stopped talking. She glanced from one to the other. “A person would think you’re talking about them, the way you cut off conversing.” She eyeballed the empty chairs with pursed lips. “Where did Xavier and Olivia go?”

  “They had some business to take care of,” Nick said.

  “Don’t you mean she’s off trying to seduce my husband again? I mean, really, can’t the woman get the hint. He’ll never leave me.” She cast her eyes away and finished her after dinner cocktail. “Oh, Jackson, I’m so sorry. What was I thinking saying such a thing in front of you?”

  “Smiling, Jackson leaned his forearm onto the table to rest his drink. “Don’t even think about it.” He maintained eye contact until she glanced away uncomfortably. He’d surmised early on that Angela always knew exactly what she was saying.

  Xavier and Olivia returned to the table. Awkward silence hovered around them. Before anyone could speak, Xavier turned to Angela. “Well, Angela, I’ve taken care of the check. Are you about ready to leave?”

  “That would be splendid. I’ve had a long day. The three of you enjoy yourselves. Call a car if you drink too much. Nice meeting you, Jackson.” She stood as she spoke, not making eye contact with him. Instead, she tilted her head toward Olivia. “Olivia.”

  When Xavier and Angela left, Nick turned to them. “Well, unless you drive into the city not much is going on here. How would you feel about coming to my house? I could call my friend, Mia. Might be nicer with the four of us.”

  “That sounds great,” Olivia said, glancing over at Jackson for confirmation.

  “Olivia, you remember where my parents live. We’re down the road about a mile from them, 316 Sentinel Drive. We’ll meet in twenty minutes.”