Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 124320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Her expression is implacable, and maybe I could persuade her, but it’s obvious she wants to be alone.
“Will you please call me when you know more?” she asks. “After you talk to your mom?”
“Will you promise that we won’t allow our parents’ drama, whatever this is, to come between us? Because I’m not losing you over some stupid shit, Kimba. Not again.”
“I just don’t know what to believe.” She looks at me, uncertainty in her eyes. “I don’t want to lose you either. I do know that.”
It’s a small comfort, but I take a few steps forward and press her soft body into the door. I bend to brush her bottom lip with my thumb, and then kiss her, gently at first, and then with increasing heat and intensity. The visceral attraction, the thing that magnetizes us, that has always drawn us together, doesn’t fail me now, and she’s pliant and kissing me with unchecked hunger within seconds. Her phone dings with an alert, and she pulls back, checks her cell, and grimaces. “My Uber’s here.”
I open the door for her and she rushes down the steps toward the waiting car. Before she gets in, she turns to me one last time. “Call your mom.”
So many times I probed this issue with my mother, seeking confirmation of my suspicions and hoping I was wrong, but she always managed to shut it down, play it off or freeze out my attempts. I watch the taillights of Kimba’s Uber die, swallowed by the night.
“Not this time, Mom,” I say. “This time there’s too much at stake.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Kimba
“This is ridiculous,” Kayla says from her seat at the kitchen table the next morning. “Daddy? Your source must be mistaken.”
I look at each of them, Mama, Kayla and Keith, and wish like hell I could spare them this ordeal. Mostly Mama, who has been largely silent since I broke the news to them at the emergency family meeting I called. She’s probably in shock.
“I wish he was wrong.” I thank Esmerelda for the toast and herbal tea she’s become so adept at preparing.
“I mean, Ruth Stern?” Keith asks, his face twisted disparagingly. “I don’t believe it. If Daddy was gonna cheat, it would be with somebody finer than Ruth Stern.”
All three women at the table swivel our heads to him as if on a string and glare.
“Daddy wouldn’t cheat ever,” I snap.
“You would comment on the way she looks.” Kayla sits back in her seat and folds her arms across her chest. “Typical.”
“Ruth is a good woman and was once one of my best friends,” Mama says, her voice low but sharp. “Keep her name out of your mouth, Keith.”
A heavy silence follows her words, and my siblings and I exchange a meaningful look.
“Mama,” I say, my voice careful. “Can you think of why someone would start a rumor like this and if there might be some granule of…?” I look to Kayla for help.
“Truth,” Kayla finishes. “If there might be something that did happen that someone is twisting into a lie?”
“Your father never cheated on me,” Mama says, standing. “Not one day. I know it, and I’ll make sure the world knows that, too, if this trash makes it to publication.”
“It won’t,” I vow. “We’ll get it straightened out before that happens.”
She nods and walks out.
“Keith.” I kick him under the table and find some small satisfaction in his tiny yelp. “You’re the family lawyer. I have a call scheduled with the publisher first thing tomorrow morning. I need you to put the fear of God in them that if they publish this crap they’ll have a slander trial on their hands that will bankrupt them.”
“Will do.” He stands and grabs one of the delicious croissants Esmerelda put out for breakfast. “But I have to get home. Delaney will kill me if I miss Sunday dinner.”
“Sounds good,” I say. “And, Keith?”
“Yeah?” He turns at the door, handsome and looking more like Daddy every day.
“After we deal with the publisher, let’s talk about your campaign.”
“All riiiight.” He drags the word out like he’s giving me time to change my mind about helping him.
“You have a lot to do if you want to run.”
He flashes a smile, gives me a salute and heads out the door.
“That was nice of you,” Kayla murmurs, standing and gathering the Hermès bag her husband gifted her after baby number five.
“I am nice.”
“You don’t get as far as you’ve gotten in politics being nice. Also, in case I didn’t mention it, you did a great job last night. Your nieces and nephew loved seeing you on TV.”
“Well, thanks for making sure my hair looked great.” I laugh, pulling out my phone to check my email.
“Anything would have been an improvement on that just got fucked hair you were sporting when Lorette got ahold of you.”