The Fidelity Files (Jennifer Hunter #1)(116)

Except...

I suddenly thought back to that moment outside my front door after our second date: "I really like you, Jen. I just think we should take this slow...I don't want to rush into anything."

That was the reason he didn't want to have sex with me? Because he was married? And this whole time I thought he was just being sweet. Considerate. Genuine. But in reality, it was just code for "I'm actually married and I don't want to do the whole full-blown sex cheating thing? I'm perfectly happy with just the half-ass, making-out, cheating thing."

For God's sake, he invited me to Paris!

But why even bother with the half-ass thing? If you're going to cheat, why not just cheat and get it over with! Why drag it out?

"Are you sure you're all right?" Karen's voice snapped me back into the moment, and it was then I realized that my mouth was half open and my head was cocked to one side.

I quickly jerked my body upright and shut my mouth. "Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?"

She shot me a strange look but then appeared to brush it off. "I was just saying that my husband works a lot. He's always traveling for business. I just have no idea what he does when he's away. I'm worried he might...you know..." Her voice trailed off.

Oh, I knew! Did I ever! I wanted to pipe in right then and there and inform her of just how much I actually did know about her husband's little business trips. But instead I just nodded.

"He's going to Paris next week," she continued. "And I don't know how far you normally travel for this sort of thing, but I thought maybe that would be a good time to..." She swallowed. "Test him...or whatever it is you do."

"Yes!" I exclaimed loudly. Karen jumped at my unexpected enthusiasm. I cleared my throat and played it off. "I mean, yes... that would be a very good opportunity to test your husband."

Well, if this wasn't the mother of all last assignments. In fact, this wasn't even just an assignment anymore. This was personal. In one swift, unexpected motion, this had suddenly turned from just another day's work into just um... my life!

"Of course, I'll pay for all of your travel expenses," she offered. "I just really want to know ...I need to know."

That makes two of us, I thought.

"I understand," I said calmly. I could feel the heat rising in my stomach. I knew that after a few more seconds in that chair the anger would probably boil over and come spilling out of my mouth in the form of many profanities and inappropriate gestures. I had to get out of there.

So I listened impatiently as Karen ran over all the details of the trip. I pretended to write down every one of them, although, in reality, I'd had them memorized since the day Jamie e-mailed me our itinerary. The lovesick idiot that I was.

As Karen walked me to the front door, she finished listing all of Jamie's hobbies and interests, his background, and his likes and dislikes. And upon hearing all the familiar things I had only just started to learn about the man I had been so very wrong about, the anger slowly started to dissolve into a flood of tears. I fought to keep them back. I just had to get out of that house.

As the door closed behind me, the first tear fell.

And as soon as I sat down in my car, the floodgates opened. I lowered my head onto the steering wheel and sobbed uncontrollably. I couldn't even remember the last time I had cried that hard.

I hated myself right then. I hated myself for believing. For trusting. For feeling. I never wanted to feel anything again. Nothing had to be better than this. It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all? Fuck Shakespeare! That's a load of crap.

I wiped away some of my tears, started the engine, and drove away.

Normally I would have driven to Sophie's apartment...or even to Zo?'s. But for some reason I didn't think that a normal "session" was quite going to cut it this time.

I didn't want to see anybody. I didn't want to talk to anybody. I just wanted to drive home, fall onto my bed, and cry.

So I did.



I DIDN'T answer my phone for a full twenty-four hours. I watched it ring. In the span of a day I had three "concerned" calls from Sophie, two from Zo?, in which she proceeded to call either me or the person who dared share the road with her both a "whore" and a "dumb ass," one from John, two from blocked numbers, and two from Jamie.

Sophie eventually came knocking at my door. And when I didn't answer, she used her key.

She found me lying on my bed in the same clothes I had been wearing the day before when I met with Karen Richards, wife of the cheating bastard, also known as Jamie Richards.

"What happened?" she asked, running to the bed and sitting down on the edge. She tenderly stroked my hair.

I looked at her with tired, sleepless eyes. I hadn't eaten in over a day and my energy level was at an all-time low. "Jamie's married," I said lifelessly.

"What?" Her hand stopped cold in the middle of my forehead.

My voice was monotone and drained. "My last assignment. Karen Howard. Actually, Karen Richards."

Sophie stared at me in utter shock. "Maybe it wasn't the same Jamie."

I looked her directly in the eye. "She's sending me to Paris, because he's going there for business next week."

"Oh."

I rolled onto my side so I was facing away from her and tucked my hands under my cheek.