The Fidelity Files (Jennifer Hunter #1)(106)

But then again, it was starting to become obvious that healthy was definitely not the best word to describe any aspect of my life.

"I don't know what she's talking about," I fought back shamelessly. "Jamie's different. He's not like any of the others."

Meaning he's real.

"For starters," I continued, on the verge of rambling, "he took me golfing for our first date. And we ate hot dogs. I just don't think that I..."

"That's cute!" Hannah interrupted. "Isn't that cute?" she surveyed the rest of the group.

I smiled to myself. It really was cute, actually. I had an instant flashback of the two us sitting on that bench outside the snack stand, eating our hot dogs and making jokes about his golfing skills. Or lack thereof. I almost let out a small, reminiscent giggle.

"He sounds delightful," my mom pointed out contentedly.

"Yeah," I admitted softly, sitting down on the couch next to Hannah. "He's really funny, too." A rush of enthusiasm unexpectedly filled my voice as I continued, "He does this thing where he calls me Jennifer H. like they used to in elementary school, because when I first met him I wouldn't tell him what my last name was."

I laughed to myself, as if no one else was in the room. And for a moment...no one else was. I don't know how long I sat there talking about Jamie to seemingly nobody, but I repeated everything. His age, his job, how we met, our extended "stay" on the airport runway, how cute it was that he teased me about having a Palm Pilot...everything. And when I finally stopped, I suddenly realized that everyone's eyes were on me. They waited for more. They longed for it.

I blushed as I became inundated with a strange, unfamiliar feeling.

It was what honesty felt like. It had to be. There was nothing else it could be.

I had talked to my family for a good ten minutes straight without one, single lie coming out of my mouth.

It felt amazing. To talk to the people I love. And to tell them everything. No stories, no made-up details, no alibis. Just me.

It was liberating.

I took a deep breath and ventured a look at their smitten faces. I knew my mom was thinking about the wedding, Hannah was thinking about our first kiss and what it must feel like to have someone's tongue in your mouth, and Julia was still silently gloating over correctly pointing out one of my inherent flaws.

But it didn't matter what any of them were thinking.

All that mattered was that I finally had told them the truth. Well, at least a small portion of it. And now all I wanted to do was tell them more.

But I couldn't.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

I couldn't let myself get carried away. They say anything can be addicting. I believed it now. The truth was the most addictive drug I had ever tried. But a few dates my family could handle. A career of fidelity inspections... not so much. So I kept that part inside and tried to enjoy my moment of pure honesty... while it lasted.

"So tell me again why it's not working out?" my mom asked, completely confused. After hearing me go on nonstop for as long as I had, I'm sure things weren't adding up.

In fact, they weren't really adding up for me, either. When I thought about Jamie I wanted to be with him all the time. But when I thought about everything else, my job, the lies, the blackmailing, the dishonesty, I knew I shouldn't ever see him again.

Right now the only way to avoid a long and eventually heated discussion about the future of my love life was to dodge the question completely. "I don't know," I replied. "I guess we'll have to see."

That seemed to satisfy the lot of them. The hope in their hearts winning out over all the cynicism in mine.

Just then my business line rang. Everyone turned and stared at the ringing phone as if they'd never seen such a futuristic gadget before. "Work," I said, feigning annoyance as I picked it up and quickly stepped into the other room.

Like I said... while it lasted.

"Hello?" I said as quietly as I could into the phone without sounding like I was trying to whisper.

"Yes, hello, Ashlyn?" It was a female voice. Kind and compassionate, with just the slightest trace of sorrow in it.

"Who's calling, please?"

There was a pause on the other end. "Um, my name is Karen... Howard," she said, her voice wavering slightly. It wasn't an uncommon voice characteristic among the females who call this number. "I got your name from a friend."

"Yes, Mrs. Howard. What can I do for you?"

"Well, as you can probably guess, it's about my husband. Although I would really rather discuss it in person. Telephones make me nervous. Would you be able to meet with me?"

"Well, I usually like to get more details over the phone before I agree to meet in person."

"Right," she said, with an air of disappointment. "Of course." Then, after a deep breath, she said, "I guess he's just different. Distant. Always coming home late. Sometimes not at all. And I just thought..." Her voice trailed off, as if she was either too distraught to continue or just wasn't ready to actually hear herself say it aloud. Because that would mean she would be admitting defeat.

"Of course I can meet with you," I compassionately filled in the uncomfortable gap in the conversation.

She let out a loud sigh, relieved that I hadn't forced her to complete that horrific thought. "Thank you."