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Authors: Niobia Bryant

BOOK: Message from a Mistress
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Thankfully Jessa had stepped in for her and was at the house getting everything prepared so that all Renee had to do was take a shower, twist her shoulder-length hair up into a sexy topknot, and change into the dress she’d already picked out.

Renee was grateful for Jessa’s help. Aria was busy working on a freelance story and Jaime was busy tending to a sick Eric.

As she pulled through the gates of Richmond Hills, Renee actually felt herself getting excited about the dinner party. She was determined to play the hostess and have a good time while ensuring her husband’s party was flawless.

And tonight after everyone was gone, Renee planned for them to fuck away their drama. She would bathe him, suck him to the edge of an explosive nut, and then ride his dick backwards until his mouth was twisted.

Renee parked on the street in front of the house behind the catering van, not bothering with the garage because it was easier to fit four or five cars in the garage and driveway than on the street. Luckily none of the guests had arrived yet. “Good,” she said aloud as she grabbed her cell phone and hurried out of her car to walk up the asphalt walkway leading to the side of the house. She paused and then backed up as she looked through the front window into her living room.

Jessa was snuggled on one end of the leather love seat sipping from a goblet of wine while Jackson was beside her doing the same. Something about the scene was intimate to Renee. Intimate and a bit disconcerting.

Renee tried to laugh off the sudden sting of jealousy and suspicion as she switched gears and walked across the lawn and through the front door into the house. She peeked through the small oval glass at the top of the door as she purposefully made as much noise as possible opening the door.

Through the mirror she saw Jackson rise to his feet and move away from where he’d just sat with Jessa.

“Say what say who?” Renee said as she walked in.

“Hey, Renee,” Jessa said, greeting her with a warm smile.

“Hey, Jessa.” Renee’s eyes shifted to find Jackson standing by the bar topping his glass off with his favorite cognac. She walked over to him, placing her hand on his back. “Hey, baby.”

He said nothing and moved away from her touch to take a deep sip of his drink.

That stung like salt poured in an open wound.

“Well, since you’re home, I’m going to head out to get dressed,” Jessa said, rising to walk over to Renee.

Renee accepted the goblet Jessa gave her. “Thanks again, Jessa. I really appreciate it,” she told her friend, even as she felt like she’d interrupted them.

“There really was nothing to do. You had everything planned out perfectly,” she stressed with a wink at Renee as she squeezed her hand. “The caterers own the kitchen. The samples I had of the food are delicious. I set the table and dropped the kids at your mother’s.”

Renee drank down the rest of the wine in one swallow. She felt horrible for her thoughts of Jessa betraying her. The woman was helping her out, and her repayment was thoughts that she was fucking her husband? Renee felt ashamed of herself as Jessa slipped out the door.

“Jackson, I’m sorry that I couldn’t be here—”

He stared at her over the rim of his glass. “Couldn’t or wouldn’t?” he said coldly.

Cold enough to make Renee shiver. “Jackson, why do you have to keep fighting about this?” she asked.

He walked over to her. “And you’re comfortable about turning to another woman to step in to do my wifely duties?”

Renee frowned. “Wifely duties? Look here, Ward Cleaver, you tripping—”

She swallowed the rest of her words as one of the servers stepped into the living room. “Sorry, I was looking for Mrs. Clinton,” the short and plump man said.

“How can I help you?” Renee asked, walking over to him.

He looked confused. “The…um…other Mrs. Clinton?”

Renee ignored Jackson’s sarcastic bark of laughter. “She’s a friend helping me out until I got home. I’m Mrs. Clinton. The one and only.”

She gave her husband one last look over her shoulder before she followed the server into the kitchen. He was standing by the bar staring at her. “I love you, Jackson,” she mouthed to him with a plea in her eyes.

And after a moment he simply nodded.

For now it was enough.

 

Needing a diversion, Jaime reached in her bag and pulled out her shades, slipping them into place.

Brrrnnnggg
.

Aria and Renee both looked over at her as her cell phone loudly rang from her purse. She calmly removed it from her purse and checked the caller ID. “It’s my mother,” she told them.

Jaime frowned deeply in displeasure as Aria waved her hands dismissively. “Hello, Mother,” she said into the phone as she turned, giving Renee and Aria her designer-covered back.

“Jaime, since we missed Eric at breakfast, your father and I wanted you and Eric to come over for dinner tonight. We’re having the Hamptons and Reverend Greggs and his wife over as well.”

Jaime looked heavenward as she flipped her weave away from her face and pressed the phone closer to her ear. “We have other plans, and you taught me well not to cancel an event when I have already sent back my RSVP,” she lied with ease.

Her mother sighed in obvious disappointment. “I don’t remember you saying you had something to attend this evening. What is it, a dinner party?” she asked.

Virginia Osten-Pine could work for the FBI with her natural ability to snoop out a lie. The woman kept Jaime on her toes trying to keep up the facade of her marriage. The truth? Humph. Virginia couldn’t handle the truth.
I have a date with my destiny, Mother. It’s very likely my husband may be leaving me for one of my best friends. Now how do you like them apples?

Like everyone in their world, Virginia and Franklin had no idea their daughter’s marriage was a sham. They had no clue of the coldness of their home when there were no watchful eyes. They had no clue that she was lonely. They had no clue that she was the first to stray or that she had long ago suspected her husband of sleeping with
their
friend….

 

Brrrnnnggg.

Brrrnnnggg
.

Jaime rolled over in her sleep at the jarring sound of the phone ringing in the middle of the night. And then it hit her. The phone was ringing in the middle of the night and that never boded well. Never
.

Sitting up, she turned on the lamp and then grabbed the black cordless from its base on her nightstand. “Hello,” she said, her heart already pounding as Eric shifted and just snored a little louder beside her
.

“Jaime, get over here. Jessa needs us.”

No other words were needed. Jaime hung up the phone and rolled out of their plush down-filled bed in one movement. She scrambled out of her sheer nightgown and pulled on one of her sports unitards. Quickly she zoomed into the bathroom to remove her silk hair scarf and brush down her wrapped hair. Wash her face. Brush her teeth. Rinse her mouth. She was ready
.

Jaime walked back to the bed. “Eric,” she called out softly.

A louder, more drawn-out snore was her answer.

After sliding her feet into step-in shoes, Jaime reached over and shook his shoulder.

He frowned as he awakened and looked up at her. “Huh?”

“Renee just called and Jessa needs us,” she told him, not even waiting for a response before she turned and left the room.

Only two weeks ago, Jessa had buried her husband of just five years after a fatal motorcycle incident. It had torn up Jaime’s heart to see Jessa crying and so obviously lost without her husband, especially when it was Jessa who usually led the fun and good-time brigade. Over the last week they had all kept her under their watchful eye, and the only thing Jaime knew in that moment was Jessa needed them.

As she stepped out onto her porch she looked up the street and saw Aria walking out of her house as well.

Jaime waited for her. “What’s going on?” she asked as they hurried up the sidewalk to Jessa’s brightly lit house.

“I don’t know,” Aria said, her hair still wrapped with a cloth. Crust still in the corner of her eye. Drool still dried in a path from her mouth to her chin.

Jaime frowned but said nothing. She just knew she wouldn’t be caught dead walking the streets like that.

Aria eyed her from head to toe. “Were you up exercising?” she asked as they turned up the walk leading to Jessa’s front door.

“No.”

Jaime didn’t miss the way Aria shook her head.

The front door opened and Renee ushered them inside. “I was up late working on a proposal for my new job and I happen to glance outside and she was sitting in the gazebo.”

“At this time of the night?” Aria asked as they climbed the stairs together.

“Exactly. ”

Renee led the way into the bedroom. It clung with sadness and depression as Jessa lay on her side of the bed stiffly, as if she was afraid to roll over and discover that her husband was not there. And would not ever be there again.

She looked up at them with puffy, red-rimmed eyes that were filled with pain as they came to stand by her bedside. “I can’t do this, y’all. I can’t….”

“Awww.” Jaime sighed, sitting down to rub Jessa’s back. “Listen, I can’t imagine how you feel. I can’t imagine at all, but I want you to know that you are one of the strongest people I know, and even though it doesn’t seem like it now, you will get through, Jessa. We will help you get through this.”

Aria and Renee climbed onto the bed beside Jessa. As they allowed a mourning friend to cry, they found tears swelling in their own eyes.

“I thank God for y’all. What would I do without you?” Jessa asked softly.

“Well, you’ll never find out, girlfriend,” Aria assured her.

 

What a bunch of crap,
Jaime thought.

Jaime bit the lip gloss from her lips. “Humph. When Marc died, we were so good to her, neglecting our own husbands to be her friend. Not a neighbor. Not an associate. A friend. What would I do without you, she asked,” Jaime recalled sarcastically to herself. “Looks like she figured it out for herself, huh?”

Bitch.

CHAPTER 8

D
ing. Ding. Ding.

“Excuse me, everyone. Excuse me.”

The seven people gathered around the large round table in the Spanish restaurant quieted their chatter. They all focused their attention on Marc standing with his glass of sangria in one hand and a dinner fork in the other
.

“Oh, Lord, here comes a speech,” Jackson joked before taking a swig of his bottle of light beer
.

“Baby, you’re just mad Marc beat you to it,” Renee quipped, reaching over to lightly squeeze his upper arm
.

Marc just laughed good-naturedly, looking like his usual charming and handsome self in a crisp black silk shirt and dark denims that seemed beyond black with his fair complexion. “A night like this, surrounded by good food, good drink, and most importantly, good friends, deserves a toast.”

“That’s right, baby,” Jessa said in husky tones as she looked up at Marc adoringly
.

“I just want to thank you all for coming out with me and Jessa tonight to celebrate my promotion,” Marc began. “Jessa and I couldn’t think of any better people to surround ourselves with. You all are the epitome of good friends.”

Everyone lifted their glass in a toast as they all looked toward Marc with warmth.

“And to my wife. You have proven to me that there is nothing but truth in the statement that behind every successful man there stands a good woman,” Marc said, staring down into her upturned face. “I love and appreciate you for anything and everything you have done to make my life complete.”

Jessa rose to her feet in a strapless red dress and wrapped her arms around Marc’s neck to kiss him passionately. His hands went to her waist before sliding around her completely to hold her body closely to his as they both moaned in pleasure.

“Hey, get a room, you two,” Kingston said jokingly as their kiss lengthened.

“O-kay,” Aria drawled playfully right along with him.

Jessa laughed huskily as she leaned back in her husband’s tight embrace and looked up at him. “We almost put on a show, huh?” she teased Marc.

He winked at her as they took their seats.

“Well, congratulations, Marc. I’m sure I speak for everyone when I tell you how proud of you we are,” Eric said, raising his glass. “Cheers.”

Everyone did the same. “Cheers.”

Two waiters came with trays carrying their dinners.

“I am starving. I skipped lunch today,” Renee said as her steaming bowl of paella was set before her.

Jackson side-eyed her before digging into his own plate of paella. “Okay, Mrs. Corporate America, Rome was not built in one day,” he said to her, a hint of sarcasm evident in his voice.

Renee paused. “Actually, I missed lunch to attend the parent-teacher conference for our child. You know…the one you couldn’t make it to, Mr. Corporate America,” she returned smoothly.

“Okay, you two, down there,” Jaime said, with a nervous smile.

When it came to discussing Renee’s career, the couple could go from happy to hell in no time at all.

“Oh, no, no, no we’re cool,” Renee said before tasting her food. “Just making sure he understands that I do what he does plus more.”

“I guess if you could screw my dick off and let that swing between your legs you’d really be a superwoman,” Jackson returned coldly.

“Jackson, man, I do not need that image, and I’m eating stuffed sausages,” Kingston quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

It worked.

Everyone laughed
.

“You’re right,” Jackson said with a nod as he looked to his friend. “My apologies.”

“No worries, Jackson,” Marc said genuinely
.

Aria covered her husband’s hand with her own. “I married Kingston for his sense of humor,” she quipped. “Among other things.”

“I thought we agreed not to discuss
…things?”
Eric asked.

Everyone groaned and laughed, but the mood had definitely switched back to one of a laid-back atmosphere of easygoing conversation.

“I just want to say that nights like these, when the eight of us are together, are the best,” Jessa said in her husky tone as she eyed her friends. “I can only hope that we all have many more good times ahead of us.”

 

Aria shook herself to free her thoughts of the memory of one of many couples nights they all shared together. Card parties. Cookouts. Just nights sitting on someone’s deck or porch talking or joking. Joint vacations. The whole nine. Their lives—all of their lives—had become intertwined.

She turned and looked up at Jessa’s house. “The secrets that house holds. If those walls could talk,” she said aloud, more to herself than anyone as she shook her head.

She felt Renee and Jaime walk up to stand beside her on the sidewalk.

“Jessa betrayed one of us, and one of our husbands also betrayed Marc. I mean, we all were friends—especially Eric,” Aria said, still thinking out loud.

“What do you mean, especially Eric?” Jaime asked with attitude.

Aria leaned back from the hostility she saw in Jaime’s eyes. “We all got the text, so every last one of our husbands is suspect. Don’t you think?” she snapped back.

“I think the only husband you need to focus on is Kingston,” Jaime countered.

“That’s cool, but don’t you overlook your husband either, Boo.”

Jaime crossed her arms over her chest and eyed Aria up and down. “You know what? Let’s get to the real, Aria. Friend or not, you have a problem with me.”

“I sure do when you’re on your Pollyanna perfection crap.” Aria threw her hands up in the air. “One day reality is going to set in on your ass and you might go crazy.”

Jaime didn’t say anything at first as she maintained her calm and simply smoothed her hand over her hair as she eyed Aria. “You don’t know anything about my marriage,” she said in a cool voice.

Aria stomped her feet and pointed her finger accusingly at Jaime. “Oh, my God, you just did it. You just took a sec to put on that Calm, Cool, Collected bullshit when you know damn well your ass is mad as hell on the inside, you nut.”

“You really need to get more of that hood out of you.” Jaime sighed dismissively.

Aria made a fist and stepped forward.

“No, Aria!” Renee screamed, stepping between them. “I let this go on long enough. Why are you two turning on each other?”

“I don’t need this bullshit.” Aria turned to walk away.

“No, what you need is etiquette training,” Jaime called out over Renee’s shoulder.

Aria froze. Paused. Turned. Locked eyes with Jaime. “So you think Eric is better than Kingston? There’s no chance in hell it’s your husband. There’s no way in hell it’s your marriage being destroyed. You think you’re above being cheated. Does your pussy shoot sparks or some shit? What the fuck make you so special, Polly-fucking-Anna?”

Renee turned to face Aria. “Aria, don’t,” she warned with a stern eye.

Jaime cocked her head to the side and eyed Aria up and down. “If it makes me Pollyanna because I’m not immediately taking the word of someone else above my husband’s, then so be it.”

“You are so full of shit, Jaime,” Aria said, walking up.

“Don’t take your anger out on me because you think your best friend stole your husband.”

Whap!

Aria’s hand stung from reaching beyond Renee and slapping the hell out of Jaime. She didn’t plan it. She didn’t mean to. She didn’t even realize what she was going to do until her hand landed across Jaime’s face. “Jaime, I’m sor—”

Whap!

Aria gasped and her mouth fell open after Jaime soundly slapped her back.

Renee pushed her hands into both of their chests. “Are you two kidding me right now?” she roared. “Calm your asses down.”

Aria wanted so badly to crawl right over Renee and beat Jaime’s ass like she stole something precious.

“This is all Jessa’s doing, so why in the hell are you two turning on each other like this?” Renee asked, looking between the two of them. “If anything, we need each other more than ever. Come on, ladies, put on your big-girl panties. Come on, pull ’em up.”

That old Aria from the Bricks wanted to wear Jaime’s ass out, but the Aria she was today was mindful of the scene they were making on the streets of the upper-middle-class subdivision. “I shouldn’t have hit you first and for
that
, I apologize, Jaime.”

Jaime nodded even as she continued to rub her reddening cheek. “And I apologize for that slick comment…but not for slapping you back.”

Aria actually smiled. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Bougie,” she joked.

Jaime smiled. “I didn’t either,” she admitted.

“Now that you two done found some sense,” Renee began as she turned back to face Jessa’s house, “do you think Jessa told one of our neighbors where she moved to? I mean someone has to know, right?”

Aria shook her head. “I doubt it. She would’ve been scared someone was going to tell us,” she said, bending down to pick up the purse she dropped when she was about to spot Jaime’s eye. In truth, she still thought Jaime was full of shit, but more than giving her a big dose of reality, right now she knew their focus had to be on bigger and worse things.

But God, it felt good to slap the hell out of her
, she thought,
even if Jaime did get some get-back
.

“I was just thinking about when we went to the Fiesta the night Marc got promoted,” Aria told them.

“You’re right about what you said, though,” Renee said. “We all were friends. I mean, what would Marc say right now? How could they do something so low-down?”

“Because they are low-down,” Jaime added. “Creeping with the widow of your friend? There are some lines you just don’t cross.”

“Maybe they really love each other,” Aria said, pain at the thought of that radiating across her chest.

Both Jaime and Renee turned their heads to look at her.

“What?” Aria asked. “If Jessa is being straight up, not only did one of the men cheat with her, he is leaving to be with her.”

“Trust me, I
know
Eric is not leaving me,” Jaime said. “We’ve been through—”

Aria cut her eyes at Renee as Jaime shut her mouth and swallowed back the rest of her words.
Been through what, Pollyanna?
she wondered, fighting the urge to voice her thoughts.
Humph
.

She saw the worried look on Renee’s face and knew she was thinking of that conversation Jackson wanted to have. “Hey, regardless of who it is, we have to remember that Jessa might be doing us a favor taking a dog off our hands. Let
her
fight those fleas. Life is all about a cycle, and people always get it as good as they gave it. Trust and believe that.”

 

Renee wanted—needed—to talk to her husband and/or Jessa Bell. Period. That was all to it. The combination of the alcohol and her emotions was wearing her down. “Does anyone know the company where they chartered the boat or the harbor they left out of?” she asked.

“Shee-it. I wish, because the way I feel, I would charter another boat and go and get they ass out of the sea, baby. Believe that,” Aria said.

Jaime shook her head. “I never thought to ask for that information.”

Renee felt like she needed another drink, but the effects of the liquor she already had were kicking in. She felt relaxed and mellow and weepy. She felt a surge of tears but blinked them away. “They’re in the sea but I feel like our asses are the ones up a creek without a paddle.”

“Listen, there’s nothing we can do until the men show up. Why are we letting this foolishness stop our lives, especially when we have no clue who should be upset?” Jaime tried to reason.

“So what do you suggest, Jaime, that we all go home and pretend or hope it’s not us?” Aria asked.

Renee felt her head spin and she forced herself to stand still while she got her bearings. “Well, it’s not going to make me that much more happy to find out that Jessa betrayed either one of you and not me. This woman was all of our friends, and as far as I’m concerned, it could have been me just as well as you—and that
pisses
me off that she would do this to any of us.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t care or that I hope it’s not me,” Jaime stressed. “I’m just saying that this is what Jessa wanted or she wouldn’t have sent the text to all of us. She wanted us all to second-guess our marriages and ourselves.”

“True,” Aria agreed.

Renee walked to sit on Jessa’s front stoop. She dropped her head between her knees. “What made me think I could handle Patrón?” she moaned.

“Sit still. I’m going to make you a cup of coffee,” Jaime offered, turning to walk the short distance to her house.

“You okay, Renee?” Aria asked.

Renee lifted her head and nodded before she wiped her face with her hands. “Just a little tipsy, but with all this shit going on, I wish I was tore up,” she admitted with pure honesty.

“No, they ain’t worth that. The last thing Kieran and Aaron need is a drunk for a mama,” Aria told her, squatting down beside her to rub her back.

Renee turned to look up the street at her own home. “I can’t lose my family, Aria. I won’t. I can’t,” she said in a whisper. “Jackson and I have been together since college. I grew up with this man, you know? I learned how to cook and to fuck and to keep house and all of that with him. What am I without him?” Renee admitted her fears to her friend and herself.

 

Jaime dropped her keys and purse on the marble counter of her kitchen before she grabbed a bottle of Starbucks mocha Frappuccino from the fridge and poured it into a cup to heat in their steel microwave. The stuff was liquid crack and just what Renee needed to sober up.

She pushed her hair behind her ears, exposing her three-carat diamond studs, as she fought not to let her emotions push her to strike out in anger like Aria or drink like Renee.

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