The Fidelity Files (Jennifer Hunter #1)(76)

And the next woman.

And the next.

Until I found myself right here. Right now. Staring at another woman's quest for enlightenment. Only this time the woman was my best friend.

The girl who used to drive me around in her parents' minivan. The girl who was first to get her period, kiss a boy, get her driver's license, lose her virginity, and still find time to share it all with me. The girl who came to me with every problem, every question, every dilemma, every freak-out, every fear, and every decision. And I was always there for her. I've always been her rock. Her solution, her answer, her voice of reason, her equilibrium, her pacification ...and her friend.

And now she was coming to me for this.

Even if it hadn't started out that way, that's what it was now.

And who was I to deny her? Especially when I'd devoted my life to eliminating denial.

"All right," I said to Sophie's pleading eyes. "I'll do it."

And the moment I said it, I knew I had made a huge mistake.





18

Passengers and "Drivers"


AS IF completely unphased by the concept that I, her best friend, would soon be attempting to seduce her fiancé, Sophie pushed her way through the door, plopped down on the couch, and immediately launched into all of the preparatory details.

"Okay, great," she began, reaching into her purse and pulling out her black day planner. "Eric comes into town in a week. He said he wants to catch up with some old college friends. So they'll be out at a bar, drinking, acting stupid...you know, guy stuff. I think that would be the perfect time to do it." She made a small note in her planner.

I watched her in complete shock. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought she were planning her boyfriend's surprise birthday party – not his fidelity inspection. She certainly was the most ambitious and organized client I'd ever taken on.

"Okay," I said cautiously.

She began furiously jotting down notes on a blank note page. I leaned over to try to read what she was scribbling. No luck.

And then, in one fluid motion, she ripped the once-blank page from her notebook and handed it over to me.

I reluctantly sat down next to her. "What's this?" I asked, squinting at the messy handwriting.

"A list of things that Eric likes. His hobbies, favorite foods, movies, et cetera. I figured it might come in handy."

I stared at the list, absolutely speechless. Part of me wanted to laugh, but I knew it wouldn't be appropriate. She was basically doing my job for me. These were all the exact details I had to practically squeeze out of the women who hired me. But not Sophie. She was as diligent about this process as a new car buyer walking into a dealership armed with a stack of industry reports, pricing models, and cash-back-incentive newspaper ads. Not that I was complaining. Anything to lessen the burden of what I had just agreed to do.

"So that day works for you?" Sophie asked me, pulling my attention away from the words "White Castle," which had been scribbled furiously underneath the heading of "Favorite Fast Food."

"Uh-huh," I confirmed vacantly.

"Jen!" Sophie practically shrieked.

I grimaced at the sound.

"Shouldn't you be entering all this in that stupid Palm Pilot phone you take everywhere?" And then under her breath added for good measure, "And now I know why."

I pulled myself off of the couch. "Right. Doing it now."

Sophie eyed me with trepidation. "You know, I kind of thought you'd be a little bit more on the ball about this stuff. You seem very blasé about the whole thing. Are you this unprofessional with all your clients?"

I grabbed my Treo from my bag and headed back to the couch. "Well, honestly, Soph," I began. "You're not really a typical client, now, are you?"

Sophie twisted up her mouth as she contemplated my question. "Well, no. I know that. But listen, for this particular purpose, I want you to treat me like any other client. I don't want any special treatment or considerations. Do exactly what you do with every other guy you flirt with."

"Oh, so now suddenly you're okay with my flirting with married men?"

She shrugged and closed her day planner, sticking it awkwardly back in her bag. "Why not? You're serving a purpose, right?"

"A purpose that happens to serve you as well?"

Sophie rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

I laughed at her. "You know what this means now, don't you?"

She turned toward me. "What?"

I leaned back against the couch and pressed my hands anxiously against my thighs. "It means I'm going to have to tell Zo?."

"Why?"

"Because John knows, and now you know, and it was fairly easy for me to keep it a secret from all of you, but what are the chances that both of you are going to be able to successfully keep it from her?"

"John knows?" Sophie asked, surprised, and honestly, appearing a little hurt. "Why does John know?"

"Trust me, it wasn't me who told him."

She eyed me with curiosity and I proceeded to tell her the very abbreviated version of my little Internet celebrity status, all the way up to the point where just tonight I had found out that Raymond Jacobs was the culprit behind all of it.