Authors: R. L. Griffin
“Oh, there’s salad, too,” Brian said, walking back to the refrigerator to pull out a bowl and a couple of bottles of salad dressing. He nodded for her to sit. “So, Stella. How do you know Jesse?”
Jesse smirked at her. “Stella helped me get through the Congressional testimony last year.”
“Oh yeah?” Brian asked as he put the pans in the oven.
“Yes, I helped him prepare the night before,” Stella said, glaring at Jesse.
“You guys just hit it off?”
“You could say that.” Jesse winked, laughing.
Brian turned and looked at them. “You guys fucking?”
Stella was taken aback by the abruptness of his question. Jesse kept laughing. “Not right now.”
“I’m just saying. It’s crazy if you’re with the ‘FBI Beauty.’”
Stella cleared her throat. “We’re not fucking. Would you mind having your guy conversation after I go to my room?”
Brian shook his head, like he was clearing the thoughts out of it. “Oh, yeah. Sorry. I kind of have word diarrhea. I apologize. I usually have much better manners around pretty girls.”
“No problem.” Stella stood. “I’ll leave you guys to the re-heating. Can I just wander around?”
“Sure, Stella, I’m sorry,” Brian said. “That was really rude of me.”
“It’s fine.” Stella didn’t blame Brian for thinking that they were a couple. Jesse brought her here and was helping her; most guys wouldn’t do that for just a friend.
She walked through a room with a bar and a billiards table. All the rooms in the plantation house were decorated complete with several dead animals on the wall. Stella smiled; her dad would like this place. She ended up on the front porch, sitting in a rocking chair, staring out at the clear, blue, cloudless sky. It was just turning dusk.
Hate.
Now she’d be ready for him. She just had to figure out how to trap him and make it look like it was self-defense; she hadn’t quite developed that part of the plan yet.
Jesse found her on the porch, rocking, lost in thought. “Stella?” He sat down in the chair next to hers.
“Jesse,” she answered.
“You okay?” He reached over and touched her hand. It was a small gesture, but it meant he understood where she was in her head.
“I will be.” She smiled. It was a fake one, but she knew he wouldn’t know the difference.
“You hungry?”
“Starving.”
After dinner, she and Jesse went to their assigned cottage. It was a two-bedroom bungalow-type house with a kitchen and bathroom. Jesse put his things up and went to find Brian. Stella went into her room and stayed there. She checked Twitter; thankfully there wasn’t a word or even a speculation about her whereabouts today, and nothing saying she’d been spotted with Jesse. She released a breath and fell into the bed.
The next morning, they were going to work on shooting with a handgun. Brian and Jesse both looked worse for wear; they’d obviously stayed up most of the night catching up. Jesse gave her the Sig Sauer he’d bought for her. It was a light gun that was a gunmetal gray color and small enough that she could fit it in her purse. As soon as they stopped the golf cart, Stella laughed because Brian had set up several areas with empty beer cans.
“You know, Stella, this is called the ‘Liquor Still’ section of the plantation.”
“Oh really? Why’s that?” Stella joked.
“There used to be a liquor still here.”
“Used to?” Stella asked.
“Well, of course. We wouldn’t have anything like that out here now. If you did want some white lightning, though, I could probably find some for you.” He smiled.
“So, I wanted to make sure you guys know what you did to me yesterday.” She pulled her shirt down, exposing her right shoulder, which was black and blue. The kickback from the skeet shooting had bruised her between her shoulder and collarbone.
“Holy shit, Stella!” Jesse examined her massive bruise, his eyes full of concern.
Brian eyed them curiously at the tenderness his friend showed. “That happens to most people when they shoot a shotgun for the first time.”
Stella pulled her shirt back in place and got her gun out. “Then I must be doing something right. Which setup can I shoot at?” she asked Brian, ignoring Jesse’s concern. “So, did y’all drink all this beer last night?” Stella changed the subject.
“Most of them,” Brian laughed. “I had some stored in the recycling bin.”
“Yeah, I’m feeling a little wobbly today,” Jesse admitted.
“You look a little wobbly,” Stella said.
Brian pointed at the right set of beer cans. He gave her a few tips and they began shooting at their respective sets of cans. Several hours and hundreds of empty beer cans later, they were ready to leave.
Stella was exhausted, but felt ready. She was comfortable with the gun and knew how to shoot it, as opposed to the shotgun, which she could hardly control when she shot it.
The drive back to their cottage was quiet. Stella was deep in her thoughts and the guys were hungover.
Jesse opened the door and grabbed their bags. “Ready to go home?”
“Thanks for doing this, Jesse. I really appreciate it.”
Jesse nodded at her. “Not a problem at all. I got to hang out with one of my closest friends, drink beer and shoot things. I’d say that was a pretty fun weekend.”
They threw their luggage on the back of the vehicle and rode the rest of the way to the main house. Once inside, Stella used some kitchen scissors to cut through the lining of her new Cole Hahn bag, one that she bought specifically for this purpose with the money she’d gotten from selling her engagement ring. She slid her gun in between the leather and the lining of the bag. She could keep her gun with her, but it would be hidden if someone looked through her bag.
“That’s pretty genius,” Jesse said, admiring what she was doing with her bag.
“Well, I did go to school for a very long time,” she reminded him, smiling. She put her bag over her right shoulder and winced, forgetting about her bruise. She shook it off and pulled out the money she owed Jesse, holding it out for him.
“Stella, I don’t want your money.” Jesse shook his head and put his hands up in the air.
“Come on Jesse, you’ve already done so much. Take it.” She thrust the money at him again. He dodged her and walked toward the door. “Jesse…” she whined to his back as he walked out the door.
Brian was waiting for them outside. He hugged her as they were leaving. “It was nice and kinda weird to meet you, Stella.”
“Nice to meet you, too, Brian.” She shrugged.
Brian and Jesse embraced again, Stella got in the SUV, leaving them to talk alone. Brian looked at her several times while they talked. Jesse gave Brian one last quick hug with a back slap and then got in the SUV.
“Thank you,” Stella said as they drove the half mile out of the plantation.
“Not a problem.”
She’d been at her parents’ house for three weeks when her mother finally left her alone at the house. After her dream and their talk, her mom had been walking around on eggshells. Stella had big plans to enjoy the quiet and was pouring herself sweet tea when her phone dinged with a text message. Stella pulled her phone from her pocket. The number was blocked, but that wasn’t anything new with all the media she’d been getting. She pressed the message button.
Her phone fell out of her hand as she watched the first few seconds of the video attached to the message. The screen cracked and then shattered as it hit the tile floor. Rearing back, she threw her glass against the exposed brick wall; it shattered and the tea exploded everywhere.
Wow! That felt good
. Pulling down another glass, she threw that one against the wall, too.
Cooper ran around the corner and she yelled, “No!” Cooper stopped abruptly and slid on the hardwood floor. Upset he’d been yelled at, he turned and left the room.
Her fingers shook as she tried to dial her phone. The cracked screen was hard to navigate, but she finally got it. “Hey, I need to see you. I’m sending you a video. I need to see your lawyer TODAY!” She listened and nodded. “Okay, I’ll see you in fifteen.”
She had to press the send button five times on the shattered screen before she heard the sound signifying it was sent. She sighed and got out the broom. She was sweeping the mess into the dust pan when her mother walked in.
“What in the world happened?”
“I had a little accident,” Stella answered, avoiding her mother’s eyes.
“Are you okay?” her mother walked to the counter and set down the groceries.
“That’s a dangerous question, Mom.” She brushed all the debris into the trash can.
“Baby, what happened?”
“Honestly, Mom, this is one thing you don’t want to know about. I’m going to see a lawyer today. I need help dealing with some new things that have come up.”
“Did you ask Uncle Rick?” Her mother walked to the fridge and pulled out the tea.
Stella shook her head. “This all just happened so quickly. I’m going with a friend to his lawyer. He’s under media scrutiny, too, and he says this guy is the best.”
“What’s his attorney’s name? I’ll call your Uncle Rick and see what he says.”
“I’ll let you know after the meeting. I’m going now.” Stella turned to go upstairs.
“You know that we love you no matter what, Stella!” her mother called after her.
“You better,” Stella muttered under her breath.
Taking the steps two at a time, she called George but had to leave a message. “I’m sending you a video as a heads up. I love you and I’m sorry.”
Fucking Jamie.
After she hung up, she sent the video to George, saying a prayer he would take it better than she expected. Hurriedly, she changed into a nice sweater, black leggings, and boots.
Gotta make a good impression. Right.
Twenty minutes later, she pulled into the Country Club of the South, a neighborhood near her parents’ home north of Atlanta, and told the security guard her name. When she pulled into driveway of the expansive grey stucco house, she took a deep breath and counted to ten.
“My life is fucked,” she said to herself. She opened the door to her Honda and walked toward the front door. She knocked and Jesse answered almost instantly, enveloping her in his massive arms.
“Come on, let’s go,” he said into her hair.
“I can’t believe this shit. It’s bad enough I’m a fucking joke at my job as the ‘FBI Beauty.’ They’ll never let me back if this gets out, J, never.”
“Let’s make sure that doesn’t happen then.” Jesse led her in and grabbed his keys. “You want to just ride together and then we’ll grab dinner?”
“Thanks so much, J. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“No problem, you can pay me back later,” he said and raised his eyebrows suggestively.
Usually, she would chastise him about flirting, but knew he was just trying to make her feel better. Stella frowned and followed him into his six car garage.
They drove southbound on I-85 and exited at the 14th Street Bridge. As they pulled into Atlantic Station, Stella took in the surroundings. They were in the part of Atlanta called Midtown. Atlantic Station was a mixed-use property with shopping, residences, and businesses. Jesse eased his Range Rover into the parking garage under the Wells Fargo building. Silently, she got out and followed him into the elevator. He put his arm around her shoulders and held her to him protectively.
“Do I need to warn you that he’s a little intense?”
“No,” she sighed. “You forget I’m a lawyer, too. I need someone who’s going to kick ass and take names. This video can’t get out.”
“It’s pretty hot, though, you could probably make big bucks in porn. But I already knew that.” Jesse laughed and gave her a quick squeeze.
“Not helping,” she said.
“When was that filmed?” he asked.
“I’m not sure, J. Sometime in college.” Stella sighed. “I didn’t examine it closely.”
The doors opened to an opulent lobby decorated in deep wine and hunter green. Jesse smiled at the receptionist. “Hi, Jen, he’s expecting me.”
She smiled back. “Okay, Mr. McIntyre. Go on back.”
Stella followed him through the heavy wooden doors and down the corridor into one of the largest offices on the planet; it might as well have been a conference room. If the size of his office was any indication of how good this guy was, she was in good hands. It was obvious he was a partner at the firm and his office was one of the most opulent offices she’d ever seen. Wood paneling and bookshelves lined the entire office, a flat screen TV hung on one wall and he had two computer monitors on his desk. He also had his own bathroom, which was unheard of in a law office.
“Greg.” Jesse took the hand of the older grey-haired man standing up from behind his mahogany desk. Greg had a slight build and bifocals. He sure didn’t look like a bulldog.
“Jesse,” he nodded. He looked at her appraisingly. “You must be the ‘FBI Beauty.’”
Stella cringed.
Dick.
“Stella Murphy.” They shook hands and she understood he was making judgments about her. “So, are you going to help me?”