Deception (Infidelity #3)

I stared down at the screen and wished that it would all go away. I wished that it had never happened, that she’d never married Alton, that my father had never died. I wished for a life of happiness and security.

Slowly, the room around me came back into focus, as well as the table that was set and the uncertain time of my boyfriend’s arrival. Suddenly, even that uncertainty made me smile. In Savannah, dinner was always at seven. There were few exceptions to that rule.

Mr. Lennox Demetri and his affinity for rules didn’t include mundane things like the time for dinner, and like most other things about Nox, I liked that. I’d found what I’d always sought—a life that was real, happy, and secure with just the right amount of spontaneity.

As I debated the response I’d give my mother, I turned the oven to warm, made my way back to my office with my backpack, and apprehensively reached for the light switch. I’d spoken to both Deloris and Clayton and been reassured that the apartment was secure, but each room held a slight amount of apprehension for me.

Turning on the light, I let out a breath at the order on my desk. The note that had started this chain of events was gone. Everything was as it had been.

Remembering my surprise I’d had for Nox that fateful night, I made my way to our bedroom. The bed was made, pillows covering the headboard. But my attention went to the middle of the bed, the place where I’d left my vibrator. It was gone.

Knots formed in my empty stomach as I imagined Bryce or even Jerrod seeing it. Maybe it was Deloris. My knees grew weak as I sank to the edge of the large king-sized mattress and worked to fight my embarrassment. It wasn’t as if they all didn’t know what Nox and I did, that we had sex, but that didn’t mean I wanted them seeing proof of it.

And then I remembered Jane finding my vibrator in Savannah.

I lay back on the bed and pulled out my phone. Instead of texting, I hit the call button and looked at the clock. It was nearly seven. I hoped that Alton and Mother would be eating or having pre-dinner cocktails. Either way, I thought it might be a time when Jane could talk.

She answered on the second ring. “Child, you called!”

My entire body warmed at the robust sound of her voice through my phone. “Yes, Jane, I did. I wanted to talk.”

“Well, you know what time it is. You know your momma is getting ready for dinner.”

I nodded, though she couldn’t see me. “Yes, I know that things never change in Savannah. I wanted to talk to you.”

“To me?” she asked.

“Yes. Since things never change in Savannah or with my momma, I thought maybe if I talked to you…”

Jane’s tone slowed in the way it did when she wanted me to listen. “Things do change. Some of it… well, it’s kind of slow. But it happens. Don’t be so hard on your momma. She’s done her best.” An edge of excitement came into her voice. “And, well, some of the changes, they’re good.”

I lifted my head, my elbows supporting my weight. “Tell me.”

“It isn’t my place to tell. But your momma, she wants to talk to you.”

“What? You said good. So she isn’t ill, is she?” I remembered Bryce telling me that she wasn’t well a month ago in California.

“No, nothing like that,” Jane said. “Changes. This old place ain’t seen changes in, well, in a long time.”

I shook my head. “Tell her…” I took a deep breath. “…tell her that I can talk to her.”

“Child, I will. She probably call you back on my phone.”

“All right. I’ll be waiting. But…”

“What is it?”

“I’m staying here. I’m working hard, and I want my dream.”

“Alex, honey, that’s all anybody wants, they dream. Everybody has them. Your momma, she wanted that too.”

My teeth raked my lower lip. “Did she ever get it?”

“It’s not too late—it’s never too late, not until the good Lord calls us home. I’ll tell her you called.”

Her answer gave me a little bit of hope and at the same time filled my mind with new questions.

Why had I never thought of my mother as having her own dreams? Or could her dreams have been for me? What had she sacrificed for those dreams? Was Jane right? Was there still time?

“Thank you, Jane.”

“You remember?” she asked.

My cheeks rose, just as they had since I was old enough to remember. “Yes, I remember.”

“Prettier inside—that’s what you are. And on the outside, you’s beautiful.”

“I love you.”

“You know I love you,” Jane replied, before the line went dead.

My lungs filled with air just before I collapsed back onto the bed with an exhale. The search for my lost vibrator was forgotten as my brief conversation with Jane replayed in my mind. Unbeknownst to me, tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, emotions I never intended to shed. I hated Savannah, but there were parts, like Jane and even my mother, that continued to call to me, to pull me back.

They were pieces of who I’d been, or maybe they were part of who I was today.

Alexandria? Alex? Or Charli…?

Perhaps it took all three—the scared little girl, the independent young woman, and the woman ready to trust and love—to make me whole. If that were true, then I couldn’t leave any one part behind. I needed to face the past and present and recognize that I hadn’t done it alone. I’d had help all along.





“WHY MUST SHE come here?” I asked as I secured my hair in a French twist. Usually I was completely ready for dinner by the time Alton joined me. Tonight was different. Instead of being down in the parlor or in his study as he usually was when he came home from the office, he was in our suite, briefing me on our upcoming dinner from hell.

“Because, Laide, it’s part of the illusion,” Alton answered with a tone that suggested I was asking something of common knowledge, like why the sky was blue or the sea was green. “And,” he continued, “according to Bryce, she’s having trouble with this whole thing. The little whore was willing to take the money, but she never expected it to be from someone who had a history with Alexandria.”

I straightened my shoulders as I inspected my hair and makeup. “I never liked her, not when she lived with our daughter. But I-I…” I searched for the right words. “…never thought she was a prostitute.”

Alton was watching my response, his eyes narrowing with each of my words.

“I never trusted her,” I continued. “Do you think she was using Alexandria for her own benefit, encouraging Alexandria’s rebellion for just such an occasion as this?”

Alton tilted his head, thoughtfully, just before throwing back the two fingers of Cognac from the tumbler in his hand. Since the meeting in his office a few nights ago, he’d at least calmed over the whole subject.

He’d attended a few meetings with Bryce’s attorneys, the ones working the case about Melissa, and suddenly, Alton Fitzgerald was once again Bryce’s biggest advocate. Alton explained that the company from which Bryce had secured Chelsea’s companionship—which was just gentlemanly talk for ‘bought a whore’—was reputable and secure. The clients were mostly well-known names and the chance of it becoming public that Chelsea was anything other than a sincere girlfriend was minimal to nonexistent. Apparently, in the entire history of the company, there’d never been such a breach.

“Then it all makes sense,” he replied to my question. “It works. It all works as a grand plot brewing for years, substantiating Bryce and Chelsea’s long-term relationship.”