Authors: Bethany Bloom
His book was still on her desk, just where she’d left it, and
now, before she left for Los Angeles, before she reunited with Jake, she would
read it, cover to cover. Maybe two or three or four times. She would get to
know him—or at least she would get to know the face he put on for the world to
see.
What was he doing at just that moment? She tried to imagine
him, the way he must look right now. In his home, on the beach, with Elizabeth
perhaps? The set of his jaw. The depth of his eyes.
She’d made love to him just hours before. She could still
smell his scent on her skin. Her muscles were still taut, tender, from moving
them in ways she had never before fathomed, and yet their time together felt
like a dream. More and more with each passing moment. How could it so quickly
begin to fade, to slip away from her?
If she were to let him disappear, if she were to let the
dream of him fade into the night and into the next day and the next night
beyond, would he chase after her? Would he forget her? Would his dream of her
fade as well, the longer they were kept apart?
She perched at the edge of her bed, and then she kicked up
her feet and she stared at the ceiling. She let her eyes relax and lose focus
along the jagged popcorn texture, and before long, it began to swim. It moved
in and out of focus and, in her mind, she was seeing Jake’s face, his eyes, the
way they had looked at her when she’d emerged from the river, reborn. She
pressed against the side of her head now, where it had cracked against the
stone, deep in the water, as the river threatened to pull her away from him,
and she fingered the tender area of her scalp. Pressing on it helped remind her
that it had happened. It had all actually happened.
Her mind was overcome with a dreamy fogginess as she
remembered. If this was all she had of him, she wanted the memories to be
carved into place. She thought about recording the details, about moving a pen
across the page, wildly and frantically lassoing as many specifics as she
could. Then her heart began to throb. What was she up against? What was he up
against? What could possibly ruin them? There was something about being in this
house that made her old fears, her old trepidations, her nervousness and
anxieties, come rushing back through her. They sat heavy on her chest.
The days she spent with him, they
had
changed who she
was. How she saw herself. And there would be no going back. If she were just a
fling, where would she go from here? There was no returning to her old life.
Her mind ruminated over these truths again and again and at some point, her
eyes had shut, and then, sometime later, she heard a familiar voice, but one
that had taken on an uncharacteristically soft and cooing tone.
“Hey sweetie.” Monica was standing over her now. Her cherry
red lipstick had been hastily applied, and she was grinning unevenly. There was
something in her tone that Jess had never heard from her sister. Was it…pity?
Jess blinked, tried to smile, and sat up, drawing her knees
to her chest.
“I can tell what happened, just by looking at you,” Monica
said.
Jess blinked and nodded. For reasons she couldn’t explain,
her eyes filled with tears. Was it because, after all these years, Monica was
actually being kind to her, and only because she was under the mistaken
impression that Jess had been dumped?
“And now you’re back,” Monica said, with a self-satisfied
nod.
“Oh, but it was wonderful, Monica, really.” Jess’s voice
trembled. “We’re in love.”
Monica tilted her head. “So… do you want to talk about it?”
She crawled across the bed to sit next to Jess, close enough that the skin on
their arms touched.
“I did warn you, Jess. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She
gave Jess’s thigh a stiff pat. “So he did, huh? He chewed you up, and he spit
you out.”
“No, Monica, he didn’t.”
“You know, Jess, I was jealous at first.” Monica made a low
guttural noise in the back of her throat. “Beyond jealous, really. Kind of
enraged.”
Jess nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but Monica rushed
in.
“But I knew you’d be back, Jess. I knew I’d need to forgive.
To be the bigger person. To help you mend. I want you to know that you can
count on me. Always.”
Jess nodded and pulled her lips back. “I know that, Monica,
and thank you, but the truth is, Jake and I are in love. Really, we are. I’m
just here to gather some of my things. I’m moving in with him.”
Monica smirked. “What about the woman he lives with
presently? Did he talk to you about her?”
“I met her actually.”
“Did you?”
“Yeah, she was here, in town. I met her before we flew to
New Mexico.”
“How very…
progressive
of you.”
Jess shrugged and Monica continued. “So, why did he take you
there
? What the hell’s in New Mexico?”
Pure unbridled carnal bliss
, Jess thought, but she
laughed and said, instead, “Horses and mud, mostly.” She felt a flutter at the
top of her thighs as she recalled the horseback ride, the crescendo after the
storm. And the mud, Jake’s strong hands smearing it across her breasts and
along her neck. The rinsing and the grotto and the hot, hot pools and the bed
and the rose petals…
Monica clucked her tongue. “I at least thought he’d have
something better than mud and horses up his sleeve. And the girlfriend came
along, too? Holy crap, Jess.”
“Oh. No. She went back to L.A. And she’s not his
girlfriend.”
Monica gasped dramatically. “Oh! Did you make them break
up?”
“No. At least I don’t think so. I’m not sure of the whole
story, but I don’t think they were ever really together.”
Monica shook her head. “Oh Jess, you really are so adorable.
So naïve. So this girlfriend, she gave you her blessing?”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, but she knew all about
me.”
“You dirty dog, Jessica Madigan.”
“Really, Monica. She’s not his girlfriend.”
“Right. So, did you… y’know?” Monica popped her eyebrows up
and down.
“Oh.” A giggle erupted from her. “Oh yes.”
“Wow. So you did the deed with a taken man.” Monica sucked
in her breath. “What if he’s married to her?”
“No, he’s not married.”
“Oh, brother, you’re in love with him. I can tell.” Monica
laughed with such force that she lost her breath for a moment. After a time, she
said, “So when did you first realize you were in trouble?”
Jessica shrugged. “I’m not in trouble. Not at all. I’m in
love. Deeply in love. But not in trouble.”
Monica rolled her eyes. “Eesh. Same thing. You’re in love
with a guy who plays in a whole different league than you. He’s got women all
over the place. That’s guaranteed, Jess. He’s not telling you everything about
his life.”
Maybe she
was
naïve. Too trusting. Maybe Monica could
help her. Maybe Jess could use a brain more devious than her own. “Honestly,
Monica,” Jess said softly, “There were a few things that just didn’t entirely
add up.”
Monica’s eyes widened. “Do tell.”
Jess opened her mouth and paused. Why was she going to tell
her all of this?
“Wait,” Monica burst out. She leapt to the desk to snatch a
notepad and a ballpoint pen. Then she made small circles on the paper until the
ink flowed smoothly.
“I don’t think you need to make a list, Monica. There aren’t
that many secrets.”
“Let me be the judge of that. Just… go on.”
“Okay, well. First, will you promise to keep this all just
between us? Like, don’t go writing it down so you can sell it to the tabloids
or something.”
“Please, Jess. I’m offended. I’m your sister.”
“I know.” Jess twisted her hands together. “But what I need
now is a friend.”
“Of course. I’m your sister,
and
I’m your friend.”
Jess inhaled deeply and wished she had someone besides
Monica to talk this out with. “Okay, this is the only thing that kind of
worries me.” Even as she spoke, she wondered why on earth she was discussing
this with her sister. Was it to make Monica feel better, less jealous? Less
enraged? Or maybe she just needed to tell someone—anyone. She continued. “Jake
and I were going to go together to Los Angeles today. Then, this morning, while
he was in the shower, he got a text, and as soon as he read the text, he
changed the plan. He said he had to go by himself for a couple of days, and he
started coming up with all kind of reasons I couldn’t go with him.”
“What a dog.”
Jess stared down at the quilt on her bed and traced the tiny
stitches with her fingers.
“Please tell me you stole a glance at that text,” Monica
said.
Jess smiled sheepishly, not looking up. “I did.”
“Good girl, Jess.”
“No, I really am ashamed, but I just knew there was
something there that I needed to see.”
“So what did it say?”
“Well, first it said that he loved me. And it was to
Elizabeth.”
“Who the hell is Elizabeth?”
“The girl he lives with.”
“His girlfriend?”
“No, Monica. Again. I don’t think so.”
Monica flicked her eyes to the ceiling. “Right, Jess. Okay,
he was lying in bed with
you
while at the same time texting his hot,
supermodel, live-in platonic friend.” Her brow furrowed. “Go on.”
“Did you hear the part where he told her that he loved
me
?”
“Yeah, okay. I’m sure he does, Jess.” She rolled her eyes.
“Then what?”
“Then Elizabeth said Jake needed to ‘tell me,’ before it was
too late, and then she said that he couldn’t keep a secret this big from
someone he loves, and that it would ruin everything.” She gulped. “And it all
had something to do with what he’d be doing for the next couple of days.”
“Hmm… like maybe hanging out with his wife?”
“No,” Jess replied, considering. “I think more like, maybe,
a court case. Something like that. I know he’s got some… legal issues. At
breakfast one day, he told me some big story about how his parents embezzled a
bunch of money and how they are on the run. Somewhere outside the country,
presumably.”
Monica began to scribble at the notepad. “Jess, you have got
to tell me everything suspicious that he did. Anything might be a clue.
Anything at all.”
“You’re acting like this is CSI or something.”
“It kind of is.”
“Except that nobody has committed a crime.”
“Or have they?”
“Geez, Mon.”
“Do you think he killed his parents?”
“Of course not.”
“You never know. You are far too naïve and trusting, Jess.
For life in general.”
“Monica, he didn’t kill anyone.”
“What other kind of secret is so big it has all these
consequences? Things that are going to ruin you?”
“He didn’t say it was going to ruin
me
. I think he
said it was going to ruin
everything
.”
“Same thing.”
“No it’s not.”
“Maybe he’s part of the mafia or something. I mean, he does
kind of throw his money around.”
Jess cleared her throat. She decided not to tell her about
his proposal to pay off her student loans.
“I’ll bet you anything I can find out what he’s up to,”
Monica said. “Everything is on the internet these days. You’ve just got to know
where to look. I’ve got my laptop in my car.” Monica swung her feet to the side
of the bed, and patted Jess’s leg. “Hang tight.” Then, just like that, she was
up the stairs. Jess had never seen her move so fast.
And then she was back, and they sat together, on the bed,
and took turns trawling the web for any mention of Jake Lassiter. So many
articles, book reviews, photos, including one of him getting off the plane in
Los Angeles that very morning.
“He sure is smiling. I will say that for you, Jess.”
Jess pushed against the piece of obsidian in her pocket.
“So, was he any good? In bed?” Monica jabbed her in the ribs
with her elbow.
Jess nodded and squinted at the screen.
“Well, it couldn’t have been that earth-shattering if you’re
still so repressed. Really, can’t you even share a few little details? Like,
how many times did you do it?”
Countless,
Jess thought. “More than once,” she
answered.
She knew then, that if she told Monica the places that Jake
had brought her to—the dizzying heights that she had climbed with him, their
afternoon together would be ruined.
“Okay, look here,” Jess said, “Elizabeth’s full name is
Elizabeth Clark.”
“Google her.”
“I tried. There are just too many of them. Even in the Los
Angeles area. I mean, there are all kinds of stories that mention Elizabeth
Clark in relation to Jake. But there’s also an Elizabeth Clark physical
therapist, attorney, doctor, photographer, bridal designer. Who knows which one
she is?”
“Well, how does Jake describe their relationship? Like, in
People?”
“You know, he doesn’t. She’s just there. It seems she’s
nearly always with him.”
She would need more time, much more time when Monica wasn’t
sitting next to her, jotting down notes on her pad, playing detective.
One link caught her eye, though Monica tried to scroll past
it. Jess jabbed her hand at the screen. “That one. Click on that,” she said.
The headline read, “Who is
The Girl from the Hallway
?” It was posing as
some investigative piece but was really just a photo gallery featuring a laundry
list of the women Jake had been involved with over the years. It didn’t even
mention Jake’s high school. “Who is your Hallway Girl?” the magazine wanted to
know.
Jess felt a rising inside. While she’d been memorizing the
names of ligaments and tendons in medical school, she had become a sort of
cultural icon. A symbol. A reminder to live life to its fullest. To never let
“the one” get away. Who knew?
Her stomach rose.
She
was that girl. The one he’d
pined for. She was Jake’s. She belonged to him, and he to her. They were in
love. And Monica would try, until the end of her days, to make her doubt that.
She watched Monica for a moment now. The nervous way she laughed and drummed
her hands on the keyboard. She was desperate to find it. To find the thing, the
piece of information, that would make all of this go away.