AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I glanced toward the restrooms, then at the phone again. I wasn’t sure what took over me in that moment. I wanted to see what was behind that screen, get a look at his life and figure out what his wife looked like. I shouldn’t have cared at all about this woman. I mean, I’d been flirting with her husband all night and was possibly even going to sleep with him. And perhaps I was a glutton for punishment because I knew beforehand that nothing good would come from checking this man’s phone, but I grabbed it anyway.
The phone had a code, one I saw him enter several times throughout the night–060383. His birthday. What? I couldn’t help watching him type the pin in. It was hard not to look when he sat so close to me.
The phone unlocked, and the first thing I saw was a text message from a person named Jo. I didn’t know if Jo was a man or woman, but their message said: Can you squeeze a call in?
I scrolled through their texts until an image appeared and at the sight of it, it felt like an elephant had stepped on my chest. Jo was a woman, and not just any woman. This was his wife.
The photo appeared to be professionally taken of Dominic and Jo. Jo wore a navy-blue dress with mid-length sleeves, while Dominic wore a suit to match. His arm was draped around her waist, while she leaned into him with a hand on his chest as they both smiled at the camera. An American flag was in the background, along with a sofa that couldn’t have been comfortable and was clearly there for display purposes. Gold drapes hung from the corners. Below the photo was a text from Jo saying: Look, babe. Campaign pics came in! This one is my favorite!
My nose wrinkled as I frowned at it. It wasn’t that the photo wasn’t nice, because it was, but it was his wife who I couldn’t stop staring at. She was beautiful, with round apple cheeks and coily dark hair. Her sable skin was aglow as she smiled into the camera, her brown eyes soft and wise. She’d seen things. Been through things. I could tell. But beautiful, nonetheless, so why was Dominic wasting his time with me?
I swiped off the photo and scrolled through their messages, seeing texts like:
I’m so proud of you, Dominic.
You’re going to soar, babe. I just know it.
Don’t forget to wear the black suit today with the red tie. And the dressing for your lunch is on the top shelf of the fridge.
Chicken risotto or chicken parm tonight? Can’t decide. Help?
Love you, Dom Bomb!
Before Dom returned, I put the phone back in place and requested another drink from the waitress. Dom was out of the bathroom but stopped to speak to the waitress while fishing out his wallet. While he did, I whipped out my phone and snapped pictures of the stage, where the performers were, then some of the details on the walls, the portraits. Finally, I took a selfie, making sure to capture Dom in the background as he handed the waitress a credit card. I looked amazing, and I could see him clearly, despite the dim lighting so I sent the image to Shavonne, who responded with: Wait . . . isn’t that the ex you told me about?
I huffed a laugh and darkened the screen. I would fill her in later, but for now I loved the idea of her wondering what was going on and I couldn’t wait to spill every single detail in a few hours.
I didn’t realize Dominic was back until he sat next to me, leaned in, and placed a finger beneath my chin. His hands smelled like floral soap with a splash of cinnamon.
“So, what do you say?” he asked with his lips close to mine. “Shall we go to my place for a reunion?”
NINETEEN
JOLENE
I take a scalding hot shower—one I hope will wash away this morning’s conversation with Eden. What the hell is wrong with that woman? How can she poke and prod at my marriage like it’s a lump of clay in her lap?
Anger ignites within me as I step out of the shower, snatching down the towel from the rack and leaving the bathroom. I change into new clothes—tan palazzo pants and a silky pink blouse—and apply makeup and perfume before heading to my home office.
When I’m aggravated, I work to distract myself, so I log into my laptop and check my emails first. It’s as I’m deep into a supplier’s email, that my phone buzzes on the desk. I glance at it and instantly want to bang my head on the glass desktop when I see the name. Mother.
Not Mom.
Not Mommy.
Mother.
I let the phone ring a little longer, then draw in a breath, swiping the green phone symbol and bringing the receiver to my ear.
“Hello Mom,” I say, doing my best to keep my voice neutral.
“Jolene, I’m flying in to see you today,” she says. No formal greeting. Always so direct.
I frown. “Why?”
“Because I’m your mother and I want to check on you.” She sniffs on the other end, but not like she’s sick or sad. More like she’s annoyed with this conversation and ready for it to be over already. But I know my mother. She does not fly all the way from Houston, Texas to North Carolina just to see me.
“What trouble are you in now?” I sigh.
