Reasonable Doubt: Volume 2 (Reasonable Doubt #2)

Reasonable Doubt: Volume 2 (Reasonable Doubt #2) Page 6

“And this affects you how?”

“You humiliated me when you found out I lied to you.”

“I apologize.”

“Don’t.” She shook her head. “You made me cry because you told me that I was a liar for hiding the truth and pretending to be someone I wasn’t.”

“I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be the only person to classify you as a liar after what you did.”

“Yet, every day that I f**k you, every night that I talk to you on the phone, I’m no closer to getting to know anything about you.” There was concern in her eyes. “It’s always me talking about me, or you talking about abstract things that make up a blurry picture.”

“It doesn’t matter. I told you that I—”

“That you’ve never lied to me,” she said. “I believe that, and for a moment I thought that you were always completely honest with me, but when I look back, you’re only honest about what you want to talk about. Hence, the random appearance of Mrs. Hamilton, and—”

“I’ve told you about that already.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her close to me. “So, I’m not going to waste my time rehashing shit I’ve already gone over with you.”

“Just...”

“Look.” I pressed my finger against her lips. “You’re the only woman I’ve f**ked regularly in six years.”

“Am I supposed to be proud of that?”

I pulled her into my lap. “You’re the only woman—only person actually, that I talk to outside of my hours at this office, the only woman I’ve ever f**ked over the phone, the only woman who’s been in my car, and the only woman who’s lied to me and still gotten me to stay...”

She sighed, staring back at me.

“Now,” I said, “if you don’t mind, I’m going to f**k you in this chair. And when we’re done I’ll kindly show you how to research someone the right way, because contrary to what you think, my client does have a background.”

“No, I double checked everything and I—”

I pressed my lips against hers. “After I f**k you.”

Consent (n.):

A voluntary agreement to another’s proposition.

Aubrey

Subject: New York /Your Panties

For the record, I did go to law school in NYC. I was the valedictorian of my class.

—Andrew

PS—If you stash one more pair of your wet panties/“For your fetish” notes in my desk drawer, I’m going to assume that you do want me to sleep with your pu**y over my face. My tongue has been aching to do that since I first “met” you so there’s no need for unnecessary hints...

“Aubrey?” My mother’s voice took the smile right off of my face. “Aubrey, were you listening to your father just now?”

“No, I’m sorry.” I sighed, dreading that I was still sitting at a dinner with them.

They’d called me the second my rehearsal was over and demanded that I drive home so we could all ride to our “favorite” restaurant together. It was where all their country club friends ate regularly, and I knew they just wanted to come here to assert our seemingly perfect family image.

“Are you listening now?” My father raised his eyebrow.

“Yes...”

“We brought you here so we could tell you that...I’m running for governor in the next election,” he said.

“Do you want my vote?”

“Ugh, Aubrey.” My mother huffed and snapped her fingers for the waiter. “This is one of the happiest moments of your life.”

“No...” I shook my head. “I’m pretty sure it isn’t...”

“All those years of hard work, building our firm to be one of the most impeccable in the city,” she said as she looked into my father’s eyes, “it’s about to payoff in a huge way. We already have a few verbal commitments for the campaign’s budget, and since we’re going in on the same side as the incumbent—”

“You have a really good chance of being governor.” I cut her off. “Congratulations, Dad.”

He reached over the table and squeezed my hand.

My mother couldn’t seem to shut up. “We’ll have to take new family photos—stocks, you know? Photos we can give to the press for their write-ups, so you’ll have to wear your hair in something other than that ballerina thing.”

“It’s a bun.”

“It’s an eyesore.”

“Margaret...” My father chided. “It’s not an eyesore...It’s just—”

“It’s just what?” I looked back and forth between them.

“It’s important for us to look like a cohesive All-American unit on the campaign trail.” My mother took a glass of wine from the waiter and waited for him to step away. “We may have to make some stops together as a family.”

“You’re running for governor, not President, and what twenty-something do you know travels with her parents during a campaign just for photo-ops?”

“Our opponent has twenty year old twins who are homeschooled,” she said. “They travel to third world countries every summer to help the poor and I’m pretty sure they’re going to be at every stop on the campaign trail.”

I snorted. “Why are you trying to compete with genuine people? Don’t you think they’re the type that deserve to win?”

“Aubrey, this is serious.” My dad looked upset. “This has been a dream of mine for a very long time and we want to make sure that nothing stands in the way.”

The two of them exchanged glances and I raised my eyebrow.

“Nothing like what?” I asked.

“Okay...” My mother lowered her voice and looked over her shoulder before speaking. “We need to know if there any skeletons in your closet—any pictures on social media that make you look like a party girl, any ex boyfriends’ or sexual partners that you may have dealt with, or anything that would make us look like bad parents.”

“You are bad parents.”

“Stop it, Aubrey.” My father gripped my hand and squeezed it hard. “The two of us have given you everything you could’ve ever wanted growing up and all we’re asking for is a small sacrifice from you.”

“I don’t have any skeletons in my closet.” I gritted my teeth.

“Good.” My mother put on her fake smile. “Then, when you pull out of school for your senior year to help us on the trail, it won’t look suspicious. We’ve already spoken to your department chair about online classes and they are, in fact offered. For the ones that aren’t, you’ll have to show up to campus to take those, but they make special considerations for students with circumstances such as yours so—”

“No.” I cut her off. “No, thank you.”

“This isn’t up for discussion, Aubrey. This is for the benefit of—”

“Dad’s dream, right?” I tried not to lose it. “Because he’s the only person in this family who has a dream?”

“Yes,” my mother said through her smiling teeth. “We’re talking about real dreams, Aubrey. Not no-chance-in-hell and failed ones.”

“Excuse me?!” I stood up. “You want to talk about failed dreams when the two of you have failed more than anyone I know at the expense of your own daughter?” There were tears in my eyes.

“Aubrey, sit back down.” She grabbed my hand. “Let’s not make a scene.”

“Let’s!” I snatched my hand away. “Let’s discuss how I’m twenty f**king two and I’m a junior in college when I should already be a graduate! Shall we? Can you explain why that is?”

My father’s face reddened and he motioned for me to sit down, but I stood my ground.

My mother clutched her pearls. “Aubrey...We did what was best at the time, and even though switching school systems twice in two years was unfortunate, it made you who you are today. Now, the campaign won’t start until—”

“I don’t care when the hell it starts. I’m not going on a pointless campaign trail, and I’m not taking any of my classes online because guess what?” I could feel my blood boiling. “You can’t learn f**king ballet online!”

The restaurant was suddenly silent.

“You two are beyond selfish and you don’t even know it.” I shook my head. “I’m voting for the other guy.” I stormed off amidst gasps and whispers from the other tables—slightly content that my parents’ picture perfect family had been publicly scratched a bit.

“Your number, Miss?” The valet said to me as I stepped outside.

“My what?”

“Your number?” He tilted his head to the side. “For your car?”

Shit... I sighed and looked over my shoulder.

Patrons were pointing in my direction and I couldn’t bear to go back in there just because I didn’t have a ride home.

I considered calling a cab, but I knew that was pointless. It would take forever to get here, and I could probably walk back to my apartment faster than they would arrive.

There was a bus stop a mile or so down, but I only had a credit card. I doubted Andrew would come get me, but I decided to give it a try.

Subject: A Ride.

I really need a favor...

—Aubrey

Subject: Re: A Ride

Wanting to take a ride on my c**k in the middle of the day shouldn’t be considered a “favor” at this point.

—Andrew

Subject: Re: Re: A Ride

I’m not talking about your dick. I’m talking about your car...Would you be able to pick me up right now? I was at a dinner with my parents but it didn’t end well...and I don’t have my car.

If you can’t, I’ll understand.

—Aubrey

Subject: Re: Re: Re: A Ride

Where are you?

—Andrew

Half an hour later, he pulled into the country club’s driveway.

I slipped into his car before he could even park—not looking back at the snooty members who were probably whispering and wondering about what had happened between me and my parents.

“I’m taking you home, right?” he asked as he pulled off.

“No...”

He looked over at me. “Am I taking you to GBH?”

“If you want. Just not to my apartment.” I paused. “I’m sure my parents will stop by there after dinner and try to talk to me so...”

“Have you eaten?”

“Lost my appetite...” I said softly, then I smiled. “But if you’re interested in taking me on a date right now, I’m not opposed to that.”

“Why would I take you on a date?”

“Because you owe me one.”

“Since when?”

“You once said that you would take me out if we ever met in person, and you haven’t done it yet.”

We approached a stoplight and he turned to face me.

“If I was even vaguely interested in taking you out right now—which I’m not, where the hell would I take you if you’ve already eaten dinner?”

“Surprise me.” I shrugged and leaned against the glass—shutting my eyes. I could practically picture him staring at me, giving me that “You’re out of your damn mind” look, and as he steered the car back onto the street, I smiled—hoping that this would be the start of us going out regularly.

I was dreaming of him kissing me in the gallery room again when I felt him gently shaking my shoulder.

“Aubrey...” he whispered. “Aubrey, wake up.”

I lifted my head and looked outside my window. There were lush plants and a massive glass paned building—an executive condo. My heart skipped a beat because I knew he’d never taken a woman to his place before, and I was happy that I would be the first.