The Fidelity Files (Jennifer Hunter #1)(42)

As I scooted in-between Hannah and one of her friends, I couldn't help but feel a small wave of relief. Followed quickly by guilt. I should want to sit by my mother. I should want to hear every tiny, painstaking detail of what she's going through. Because she's my mother, and she's been through a lot. Too much. But as I settled in to hear stories of makeup and annoying homeroom teachers and girls that clearly stuffed their bras because their boobs are totally uneven – and lumpy – I was reprehensibly grateful for my involuntary seating assignment.

I apologized for being late, intentionally leaving out the part about my near speeding ticket. My mother would reprimand me for driving too fast and putting my life in danger. And the rest of the table would want to know how I managed to talk my way out of it. I didn't really feel like explaining it. Plus, it would arouse suspicion. Jennifer Hunter doesn't talk her way out of speeding tickets. Or if she does, then why hasn't she managed to talk her way into a marriage proposal?

"We weren't sure when you would finally show up, so I went ahead and ordered for the table," Julia said in an accusatory tone that grated on my nerves.

I bit my lip and restrained myself from making a snide comeback, deciding to save my energy for later, when the questions start coming and I'm forced to remember all my cover stories flawlessly. Because one tiny, erroneous detail is almost always caught by someone. And then I find myself having to invent stories to cover up for the fact that I don't remember my original stories. And once you change the original stories it's like breaking the valve on a water spigot: The questions start flowing uncontrollably and with no end in sight.

I still failed to understand why Julia insisted on hanging out with my mom's side of the family anyway. She was my dad's daughter from his first marriage. I knew his first wife, Julia's mother, lived in some far-off state like Connecticut and Hannah only saw her about once a year. But why on earth wasn't she having family dinner with our father and his new fiancé? Why did she always want to hang out with my mother? When I was growing up she always seemed to hate her... and me for that matter. And after she got married we hardly ever saw her. It wasn't until recently that she mysteriously moved three streets away from my mom and suddenly became her new best friend.

Hannah immediately took command of the conversation and introduced me to the two girls sitting to my left, Olivia and Rachel. I said my polite hellos and waited patiently for the inquisition to begin. And less than five minutes after I sat down, like clockwork, it started. The questions began right on schedule.

"So, Jen. What's the latest with the dating scene?"

At that moment it was as if everyone at the table stopped what they were doing. Conversations fizzled out. Fidgeting came to a halt. All eyes were on me. Even Olivia's and Rachel's. And they didn't even know me.

"Always bluff believably. Use the cards already on the table to come up with a credible story."

"Well," I began. "I went on a date with this one guy I met at the gym. Clayton..."

I watched the faces around the table light up one by one, like staggered Christmas lights. Julia, her husband, my mom, Hannah, her two teenybopper friends. They were all waiting. Could this be the one? Could he be it? I like the name Clayton. Maybe he'll be my new uncle/brother-in-law/son-in-law. Maybe he'll save Jen from the looming perils of eternal singlehood. After all, she is almost thirty.

"But it turned out he had a girlfriend," I completed the brief story.

The woes of disappointment filled the air. I tried not to laugh. Because to me it was somewhat comical. How predictable they all were. How one mention of a new man's name left them all salivating at the mouth.

"What a slimeball!" Hannah exclaimed.

I patted her hand gently, thanking her for her reassuring insight.

"Oh well," my mother said. "Better luck next time."

"Yep," I agreed, and then for good measure threw in, "He's out there somewhere," hoping to put a definitive end to the conversation. The ultimate silencer. She's optimistic. I guess that's all we can ask for at this point. Let's move on, shall we?

"Well then, how's your job?" Julia's husband asked.

I shrugged. "Fine, you know. The usual."

"The bank keeping you busy?" asked my mom.

I nodded and took a sip of my ice water. "Superbusy. Just got back from Denver last week and I'm off to Vegas tomorrow."

"Wow, Jen. Your life is so cool. I'm so superjealous!" Hannah said.

I forced out a humble smile as I reached for a piece of bread and shoved it in my mouth. Anything to keep me from starting to chew on my bottom lip. Tonight I was going to try my hardest to make sure this family reunion didn't end as most of them did... with the taste of my own blood in my mouth.



HALFWAY THROUGH the meal I could tell that Hannah and her friends were starting to get antsy. They had been picking at their plates of pasta for the last ten minutes while Julia talked incessantly to my mom about her most recent living room redecorating project. So I leaned in and suggested to Hannah that she and her friends come to the bathroom with me for some girl talk.

The three girls perked up immediately, eagerly pushing their chairs back.

As soon as we entered the ladies' room, I produced a small wrapped box from my bag and handed it to Hannah. "Don't tell your mom you got it from me," I said with a wink.