The Will (The Magdalene Series) (Volume 1)(133)



And strangely, her saying that, her seeing it that way, her confirming what I knew to be true in my heart seemed profound. So profound it opened something inside me that felt like it shone out, starting to burn away the last vestiges of my disguise.

“And hearing that makes you more legend than you were before,” she went on.

What she said before felt nice.

That, however, confused me.

“Pardon?” I asked.

“Girl, your dad bein’ that big a dick, your mom takin’ off on you, your first man f*cking you over that huge?” she asked, shook her head and kept speaking. “That’d break a lot of women. Especially that shit happening since freaking birth. Even before, you knowin’ your grandmother lived that same life. Fuckin’ crazy. But you?” More shaking of the head. “Didn’t break you. You got yourself a fancy-assed job trotting around the globe hobnobbing with the coolest of the cool, soaking in all that style and turning it back on the world. You freakin’ rock.”

“But…um…” I stammered. “Don’t you think it’s rather weak that I hid and didn’t—?”

“Babelicious, we all do what we gotta do to survive. You survived on designer dresses, first class plane tickets, champagne and caviar.” She grinned at me. “I think you did all right.”

I hadn’t thought of it like that.

And thinking about it like that, it occurred to me that I actually did.

“Mrs. Malone, totally the shit,” she stated. “Giving you to Jake in her will?” She shook her head, her lips curved up. “Always knew that old broad had it goin’ on. Didn’t know she totally had it going on.”

“This is true,” I said on a grin.

Alyssa winked at me then looked back at my nails.

“Sucks what happened with that Henry guy, though,” she continued. “I mean, I’m sad for both of you, all that unrequited love for years. It’s like one of those messed up art house movies that you think is going to be this epic love story but ends with no one getting what they wanted and makes you want to go straight to the bar after the movie and down a dozen shots of vodka to forget you saw that shit.”

“That is what it makes me feel like doing,” I confirmed and smiled at her when she looked up from polishing my nails. “But a mani-pedi from a kind woman who’s a good listener might be better,” I finished quietly.

She gave me a soft look that made her prettiness even prettier before she noted, “What’s even better is that I’m gettin’ that vodka in you after this shit dries.”

“Yes, that’s even better,” I agreed.

She again focused on painting my nails.

So I said to the back of her head, “Although I’m much looking forward to that, I don’t relish telling Jake what happened with Henry today.”

When I did, her head snapped back and I saw her eyes were huge and definitely her voice was shrill when she cried, “Say what?”

“I…uh…well, don’t relish telling Jake what happened with Henry this afternoon.”

She shook her head in short shakes like she was trying to clear it even as she shoved the varnish brush back into the bottle. Then her gaze locked on mine.

“Sister, you cannot tell Jake any of that shit.”

I felt my brows draw together. “Why not?”

“Why not?” she asked back incredulously.

I nodded.

“Because, girl, he’s Jake Spear.”

This didn’t explain her words or reaction for I knew he was Jake Spear and I was still confused.

“Alyssa—” I began but she cut me off, rolling her little stool even closer to my side.

“Listen to me, Josie. You haven’t had a man in a while and the ones you had before were first class asswipes so you don’t get this. But when you got a man, that man bein’ Jake Spear, you do not inform him that the hot guy who’s been in love with you for decades came to your home and lowered the boom when he was not around to look after you. You definitely do not tell him that hot guy laid one on you. Not when it’s fresh. Not five years down the line. Not ever.”

I didn’t think this was good advice, not with Jake. He was very open and candid and in being so, I would assume, would appreciate the same.

So I said, “I’m uncertain Jake would like me keeping that from him.”

She shook her head. “Babelicious, I’m gonna tell you a story ‘cause Junior’s cut from the same cloth as Jake. Now, it happens we go out for a drink and I might have a guy look at me. And it happens that one will approach, not givin’ a shit I got a kickass rock my man gave me on my finger. This happens when Junior isn’t close by because if he is, that shit never happens. But if he’s around, say, comin’ back from the john, and he sees it, I get that guy gone and I do it quick and when Junior asks me what’s up, I say the guy was askin’ for the time. Or if I knew the score of the game. Or whatever. I do not tell him the guy was comin’ onto me. If I did, Junior would stalk his ass, whip his ass and then I’d be scrapin’ together money to pay for his bail.”

This news was alarming on a variety of fronts.

“You lie to your husband?” I asked.

“Abso-freakin’-lutely.”

How odd.

Kristen Ashley's Books