Mistaken Identity
M
istaken
I
dentity
Copyright © 2014 TC Matson
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permissions of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at [email protected]
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people, whether living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figment’s of the authors imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously. The author recognizes the trademarks and copyrights of all registered products and works mentioned within this work.
Cover Design by: © L.J. Anderson, Mayhem Cover Creations
Editing by: Amanda Brown
Acknowledgments
I want to thank my husband and kids for all their time and patience. I know it was unbearable at times, and I was unseen for the rest, but without you all giving me that time, this would not have happened.
A huge, like monumental HUGE, thank you to my bestie, my sister from another blood line. Thank you for pushing me to do it, pushing me to continue, and the endless support you’ve given me. Love ya!
I have several behind the scenes people who’ve helped me move forward, that have given me guidance and inspiration, and that has put up with my nonsense questions and my horrible blonde moments. I cannot say Thank You enough.
Shout out to
For the Love of Alcohol and Books
, and
Bedroom Bookworms
. The women running these blogs are the most humble, sweetest, and supportive women I’ve ever met. Their support is amazing and I’m forever grateful for you all.
Without the whispers of God, I wouldn’t be here, my novel wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t have the strength to do this.
Thank you everyone for helping me start and complete this dream. To get my characters out of my head and into everyone’s hands. I’m not done y’all. I’ve got more coming.
***Warning***
This book contains graphic sexually explicit content and intense violence that could be disagreeable or distressing to readers. The content is intended for mature readers only.
Chapter 1
“You are soooo not getting that!” Jess sneers at me as I hold up a blue and white tie-dyed shirt, intentionally trying to ruffle her fashion feathers.
“You don’t think so?” I ask, holding the hideous shirt against my chest, swaying back and forth, modeling it for her. Teasing her inner fashion diva is one of my favorite things to do while shopping with her. She loves shopping. Me…eh, not so much. Yes, I like clothes and shoes, but that is the extent of it. If it was up to me, I’d rather lounge around in a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt that was three sizes too big for me.
“If you get that, I will barf on it every time I see you in it.” She taps her long bony finger against her chin. “Maybe I’ll set fire to it instead.” She turns her attention back to the clothing racks, furiously skimming for a blouse that pleases her.
“Oh. My. God!” she shrieks, ripping a shirt off the rack almost knocking the whole thing down. “I sooo love this!” She turns holding a cardinal red blouse in delight.
I scrunch my nose. “It’s pretty.”
“It’s beyond pretty, Sam. This thing is gorgeous and would do you justice tomorrow.” She holds the blouse up to my chest, stepping back to admire it. “Red means you’re powerful and energetic. Pair this with a black pencil skirt…smoking hot!”
Jess has never had to worry about what she wears, she’s always had the perfect body for fashion. Being five-foot-eight inches tall and nothing but legs and boobs, she could wear a filing cabinet and make it look good. Not only does she have the body, but with the perfect hair and the bubbly personality, she is a walking supermodel. I, on the other hand, don’t have the money she has, and my five-foot-four body sure as hell can’t wear the things she wears. What would be a miniskirt on her would be closer to my knees if I wore it. Do I harbor some envy? Well, hell yes, who wouldn’t?
Sensing my hesitation, she drops the blouse abruptly to her side. “Sam, you are starting your new job tomorrow. Don’t go in there with the same non-tasteful, wrinkled-at-the-bottom-of-your-closet, poor excuse for clothes.”
I try my best not to laugh, “My clothes are tasteful, just not as fruity as yours.”
“Samantha,” she whines, “you have to. You haven’t gone shopping in ages. It’s a professional place. Pajama bottoms and pink fuzzy slippers aren’t gonna cut it.” She knows me all too well. “Oh! Maybe you can find a handsome fellow, too,” she squeals, clapping her hands. “I dream of the day I hear your headboard slamming against the wall.”
“God, Jess…can we say perv?”
“I mean it, Sam, you haven’t dated anyone since Robbie. You’re a walking orgasm waiting to happen. I bet if you brushed up against a feather duster you’d explode.”
“A feather duster?” I furrow my brows at her, and she shrugs like it was the best thing she could give me. “First, my orgasm-loving friend, I’m not walking around ready to explode. I’m fine. Plus, if you recall, I vowed that I’d never date another man unless there were instant sparks…fireworks, to be exact.”
“You have to light the fuse first,” she quips. “Besides, not all men are like Robbie. Most men, when in love, don’t walk around with a stubby trying to poke holes in every girl. Habitual cheater. He couldn’t help himself.”
“You’re making excuses for him now?”
She jerks back like I just shot her, eyebrows pinched together. Of course she’s not making excuses for him. He was a worthless piece of shit. We dated for almost two years. I was blind and utterly in love with him. Then one day a beautiful woman with shiny ebony hair and deep brown eyes, showed up at my door. She was upset, crying, and looking for him. Come to find out, she was five months pregnant and Robbie was the suspected father. I was lost for words when she told me, completely floored. He had me totally fooled.
When he came home, he found me and Sandy sitting on the couch together. He froze, face melted to the floor, and the color emptied away. He was cornered with no place to go but out the front door, which didn’t register in his peanut brain. He denied everything. Sandy left even more upset than when she arrived at my door. I felt bad for her, but after an hour of listening to him, I believed it. Everything was great until the next month. Then different girls, different excuses, and finally I got the proof I needed…a picture. After that, his words meant nothing to me, and I packed my stuff and left.
It hurt like hell to walk away from someone I loved, but the betrayal of my trust stung the most. He begged me, even got down on his knees. Though I might have been blind to the situation, I sure as hell wasn’t stupid.
“I’m a trained professional,” Jess says proudly.
“Oh really?” I act surprised. “I didn’t know that twelve weeks of a psych course classified you as a trained professional.”
“It only verified that I am awesome and don’t need a class to tell me that. So, are you buying this shirt or are my hopes and dreams for you going to crash down around me?”
The red blouse is pretty, and after looking at the price tag, it will be the single most expensive piece of clothing I have in my small closet. “I’ll get it,” I try to sound unenthusiastic, but the truth is, I knew I was going to buy it the moment Jess pulled it off the rack…just don’t tell her that. Her ruffled feathers and pleading green eyes are my only joy when shopping. My focus.
“Annndd the black pencil skirt?” she adds hopefully.
“Yes,” I say, letting it out in a long sigh and rolling my eyes, still trying not to give away my excitement. I was doing good until the moment she started jumping up and down. Then all stubbornness on my side went out the window, and I started jumping with her. Can you imagine the stares from the other shoppers seeing two twenty-six-year-olds jumping like we’re ten?
Jess grabs my shoulders and leans back, determination flaring in her eyes. “Any way I could persuade you into a mani-pedi?”
“You have me shopping and now you want to pretty me up some more? Is there something you’re trying to tell me?” I joke.
“Is that a yes?”
One side of my lip curls into a lopsided smile, and I arch my brow. We’ve been friends since high school so she knows my facial expressions well. Before I can even respond to her, she pulls me in and hugs me then steps back with my long chocolate brown hair running through her fingers.
She scrunches her nose, “Maybe get a haircut, too?”
“Sooo…basically I need a total make over?” I chuckle. She’s not wrong, I need one. Who the hell knows when I had my last haircut?
“Yep!” she says like a bird chirp, then turns sauntering toward the cash registers with my things in her hands, hips swaying side to side, confident and sexy.
Chapter 2
The Medieval flails pound against my eardrums. Known to most as the evil alarm clock, it pulls me from my anxious sleep. I have laid here for hours tossing and turning, fretting about my new job. The thanks I get for all the worrying is a whopping four hours of sleep. I’ve never understood why mornings don’t have the decency to start at ten instead of six. They would be better if they did.
Throwing my covers back, I leap out of the bed and head straight for the shower in a vain attempt to wash away the first day jitters. Without letting the water warm up like I normally do, I step in too early and get sprayed by the freezing cold water. And…now I’m wide awake and praying my jojoba and shea body wash will energize me. Shampoo—check. Conditioner—check. Shave legs/pits—should have done this last night, but check. I look up right before turning the water off and see my dry loofah staring back at me. Shit. This better not be a sign of things to come.
“You excited yet?” Jess peeks her head into the bathroom, her long blonde hair sitting in a messy bun on top of her head, her large green eyes excited for my new journey. I swear she wears that “just rolled out of bed” look like a supermodel.
“I’m not sure if I’m nervous or excited. You know this job is a big deal.” A really big deal, actually. I haven’t had a solid job in a year, and money is starting to dwindle. I was staying busy cleaning houses part time, but the pay didn’t leave me any leeway for extra spending money. God bless Jess for helping me out and getting my foot in the door where she works.
“Ummm, Sam, staring at yourself in the mirror all morning isn’t going to help you get dressed.” She snickers, pushing the door open further revealing her perfect body in nothing more than a blue tank top and black booty shorts. Jess has always been popular with the boys for obvious reasons. She’s never had a problem picking up any guy she wants. Her flirtatious personality and heart of gold make her irresistible. “Get yourself together, girl. And while you’re getting it, get out of
my
bathroom, you mirror hog!” She giggles and pushes me out of the door firmly shutting it on my butt.
