The Fidelity Files (Jennifer Hunter #1)(38)
"Yes, Rani. You did the right thing by hiring me."
9
The Art of Bluffing
OKAY, SO I had a little help.
Rani had told me that Clayton liked karaoke. She even mentioned Def Leppard. And Family Guy. And all the other things that we were supposed to have in common. All the things she suspected would be true about the girl he would cheat with, the final detail being that she was white.
Rani didn't want the normal ending. The black card on the dresser. The cold, hard truth being explained as I pull my sweater over my head and leave him with one, drawn-out, pitiful glance.
It wasn't enough for her. She wanted to see it. She wanted to catch him. She wanted to look him in the face during the moment of his betrayal... and during the moment of his realization. She wanted him to know that she knew, and would always know.
It's not how I typically conclude my assignments. But then again, Rani wasn't a typical client.
I had met her in the self-help section of the Barnes & Noble on the Third Street Promenade. She seemed to share my thirst for knowledge. But her thirst on that day turned out to be quite different from my own.
As I browsed through titles on the far wall of the small alcove, filled floor to ceiling with books that promised to cure all of your innermost fears, I saw her out of the corner of my eye. She looked lost. Pulling books off the shelf, thumbing through a few pages, and then, visibly discouraged, placing them back with a despondent sigh. Although she was dressed simply in a pair of sweatpants, Ugg boots, and a hooded sweater, her exotic beauty radiated throughout the tiny room.
I inconspicuously inched my way closer to her, pretending to skim the authors that I passed along the way.
As I drew nearer I was able to make out some of the titles she was examining. Is He Cheating On You? 829 Ways to Tell; How to Catch a Cheater; 28 Telltale Signs of a Cheating Spouse.
I could see the longing in her eyes as she searched through the titles. It was a longing for something these books just wouldn't give her. I knew that, and deep down, she knew that too. But this was the only thing she could think of.
No wonder she looked so lost.
My heart went out to her. Her flawless face was lined with sleepless nights spent staring at the one she loved, watching him breathe, asking questions in her mind that she prayed would be answered in the morning...or the day after, or the day after that. Anything that would allow her to sleep again.
"Can I make a suggestion?" I asked gently, nodding toward the current book in her hand.
She looked up, at first ashamed, as if she'd been caught looking at porn in her grandmother's house. But then her expression clouded over with misplaced appreciation. "No good?" she asked, her voice craving assistance. An expert in this area was something she'd been yearning for, but she doubted the squirrelly guy with the mismatched belt and shoes working at the info counter of the bookstore would quite fit the bill.
I shook my head regretfully. "I wouldn't know. I haven't read it."
She quickly reached for another book from the shelf and showed it to me. "What about this one?"
I shook my head again. "Actually, I haven't read any of them."
She studied me with confusion. I certainly looked perfectly normal, but maybe I was just another nutcase wandering the streets of Santa Monica, doling out random relationship advice. "Then what's your suggestion?"
RANI WAS one of my "pro bono" clients. I didn't charge her a dime, mostly because she didn't have one. She was working night shifts at Starbucks to put herself through law school.
"We've been together since high school back in Iowa," she explained as we sat at one of the cafés on the promenade and sipped lemonade. "I've never been with anyone else. And neither has he."
"You don't look like you came from the Midwest," I joked.
She smiled and watched a pedestrian pass by on the sidewalk. "My family moved there from India when I was fourteen. My dad got a job running the local office of his technology firm, and it was the perfect opportunity for us to 'start a better life.' At least that's how it was explained to me." She paused and reflected. "I was popular in India. I was well liked. I had lots of friends. I never wanted to leave. The kids in Iowa were mean. Really mean. They constantly mocked my accent and the way I looked. I was surrounded by blond hair and blue eyes. That was what was pretty. That was what was considered beautiful. That was what got you friends and a boyfriend...I guess.
"Nobody would let me sit with them at lunch, so I used to read in the library. Normally you weren't allowed to bring food in there, but the librarian made an exception for me." She chuckled to herself. "I think she felt sorry for me."
I nodded and took a sip of my lemonade, waiting for her to continue.
"Then one day, Clayton came in. I had seen him before. He was on the soccer team. And he was so beautiful. I thought he had come into the library to find a book, but his eyes found me instead, and he walked straight toward my table and sat down across from me. He said he knew I came in there every day and he wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Why the library was the new hot spot, or something like that."
"That's sweet," I said.
She nodded. "He was always sweet. He came and ate lunch with me every day. He never asked why I was there or why I refused to eat lunch in the cafeteria with everyone else. I don't think he needed to ask."