I sat and watched. Focused in and spied. Growled into a stale handful of nuts as I saw pieces of what might be love. I guzzled warm water and he pulled her over. Had her straddle him as his cocky mouth turned up, his pelvis rocking beneath her, the view of her shriek visible as clearly as if I could hear the damn sound. They kissed, they stood, and they hurried, packing up her bag and blanket and racing to the car.
I didn’t follow the jeep when it pulled out. I knew what foreplay looked like. I didn’t need to watch them enter a home to know more. I didn’t want to sit in a car and know they were fucking. I had the sudden recognition of a feeling, the surge of emotion at the back of my throat, one that receded tears, and I swallowed instead, yanked my car into drive, and headed home.
I needed a plan. I had seen enough. What I needed to figure out was how to destroy them.
Chapter 28
1 YEAR, 7 MONTHS AGO
“I was thinking about us heading to the island for a week.”
I blinked at Brant across a table full of brunch. He never brought up travel. Was normally so buried in work that I had to drag him away for fun. “When?”
“Maybe Saturday. We just finished the design phase of the photo frames. It’ll take the tech team a week or so to get me initial mockups.”
I swallowed a mixture of salmon and cream cheese. Dabbed my mouth with a napkin while I thought.
A week. Smack dab in the middle of Operation Kill Tennis Barbie.
A week. With the man I loved. Twenty-four hours a day of Brant, and any bit of personality that I could coax out to play. We needed this. He needed this. It’d been three or four months since we had gone anywhere, his psyche focused on the latest development, then the next, then the next. He lived to build. To improve. And this week’s project was apparently us.
The island he was referring to was our Hawaiian home. It wasn’t really on an island, unless you counted Honolulu, the large mass where our private peninsula jutted off. Our property held a twenty thousand square foot vacation home, complemented by a private pool, gym, spa. Chefs, masseuses, butlers, and maids. It would be good to get away. Hop from one paradise to the next.
I smiled at him. “Sure. I’ll coordinate with Jillian. Get the details set up.”
He stood, leaving his plate and walked over. Put a hand on the table and leaned over. Swept his lips over mine and smiled. “I love you.”
I sat back in my seat, looked up, felt the brush of his hand as he cradled my chin. “I love you too.”
“When will you let me be your husband?” A husk in the words. Need behind the question. I stared into the eyes of my love. A man who, in some ways, was still a lonely little boy who played in his basement while every other kid was outside.
“One day.” My answer that was not an answer, yet the response I had provided for a year.
“A man might get tired of waiting.” The curve of his mouth belied his words.
I reached up, gripped his shirt and pulled myself to my feet. Wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed against him. “Well, then maybe I should give you another reason to stay.”
He took my kiss. Deepened it. Didn’t object when my hands pulled his shirt loose from his pants. Let me drag him into the living room and straddle him. And there, with Sunday sun streaming through French doors, our clothes still mostly on, I distracted him from thoughts of marriage and reassured him of my love in the way I knew best.
Chapter 29
Newest fact about Molly Jenkins: she liked to drink. I looked at the PI’s report, page 9 including an inventory of her trash can, photos next to an inventory list. I scanned it, my fingers tapping alongside the items as I moved down the page.
12 empty bottles: Smirnoff Ice
4 empty cans: Bud Light
Tags from an article of clothing: Gap. $24.99
Dry Cleaning receipt: One Price Cleaners Empty bottle: Kahlua
Empty bottle: Absolut Vanilla Vodka Thank you card and envelope from ‘Mom’: see photo Monthly statement from Capital One credit card: see photo Empty Bag of Nacho Cheesier Doritos I called him, musing over the list as the phone rang.
“Yes, Ms. Fairmont.”
“Is this normal? All the alcohol?”
“It’s the first bag we’ve inventoried. It’s from last week. I left off all of the food items, but if you’d like we can also include those.”
“Food items?”
“You know, banana peels, coffee grounds, leftovers, egg shells—”
“No,” I interrupted. “I don’t need all that. Just items like this. When will you have the rest of the bags done?”
“I can put someone on it today, if you think it’d be important.”
“Yes. Please send me all of the reports as they are done. As soon as possible.”
“I’ll pull people off other projects. Get it to you quickly.”