A Wicked Lie, Page 2

  “Is everything okay?” Gina came into the classroom, a concerned look on her face. While she wasn't quite old enough to be my mother, she had definitely taken on that kind of role, always checking in on me.

  “Yeah,” I said. I rubbed my hand over my face and grimaced at the feel of my skin. My blouse was sticking to my back and I didn't even want to know what it would look like if I raised my arms. I reached for my bottled water and made a face as I swallowed the tepid liquid.

  “So Allen is coming?”

  I looked at my phone again, willing there to have been a message in the past few seconds. “I guess not.” I stood, trying not to let my frustration bleed through to my voice. “He probably just lost track of time.”

  I could call him, I supposed, and remind him of what today was, but I didn't want to sound like I was nagging. I knew he was busy preparing for this year's crop. Contrary to what most people thought, farming of any kind didn't consist of planting and then doing nothing for months before harvest. I wasn't involved in a lot of the day-to-day workings of the vineyard, but I'd seen enough over the last six and a half years to know that it was a full-time job. Equipment preparation and repairs. Scheduling and hoping that everything happened on time. Watching weather reports. Dealing with insects and rodents. Hiring the right people.

  At the moment, Allen had a great foreman who oversaw the workers and carried out Allen's orders. Once Allen had things together, he'd be able to ease up over the rest of the summer and we could spend time together. Starting with our anniversary the week after school ended.

  Or, at least, that's what I was hoping for. It was what he'd done last year before our wedding.

  “I'd appreciate a ride, if you don't mind.” I packed my papers and grade book into my bag. “I'll text him to let him know I'm coming home.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked as we walked out to her car. Well, actually, it was one of those old hippie vans. I wasn't entirely sure why she had it since she wasn't old enough to have been a flower child, but hey, whatever worked for her.

  “Talk about what?” I didn't look at her.

  “Shae Van Walson-Lockwood,” she said my full name sternly. “Don't.”

  “It's nothing,” I insisted. After a moment, though, I answered her question, “We just try to have a date night every week and last week he was late. Tonight, it looks like he forgot completely.”

  “You guys have been together since college, right?” she said as she opened the passenger's side door for me.

  “Yes,” I answered as I climbed in, awkwardly maneuvering myself into the seat.

  “You two need to do something to spice up your sex life.”

  “Gina!” I stared at her.

  She grinned as she pulled the van out of the parking lot. “Come on, Shae. You've heard of the seven-year itch, right?”

  “We've only been married a year,” I pointed out. “And even if you count our engagement, it's just been four.”

  “But you've been together for...?” Her voice trailed off.

  I scowled. “We're still newlyweds, Gina.”

  She shrugged. “I'm just saying that, when you've been together for a while, you need to make sure that you don't fall into a rut. Don't take for granted that the other person's going to be there all the time.”

  To my surprise, she let it go at that and the rest of the ride was done in silence. I knew she was giving me time to think, whether I wanted it or not. I didn't really want to because that would mean I'd have to admit that there was something to what she'd said. In some ways, though, I knew she was right. Allen and I had dated for three months before we'd slept together, which had seemed like taking it slow at the time. We'd been together for nearly five years before he'd proposed and then had a two year engagement. Everything about our relationship had been slow, planned. Allen had wanted to make sure that neither of us felt rushed into anything. I'd always appreciated it, but now I was wondering if taking things so slowly had brought us to a stale point in our marriage long before it should've happened.

  When Gina pulled up in front of the house, I thanked her and went inside. I'd considered going down to Allen's vineyard office to see what he was doing, but I didn't want to interrupt. He was the kind of person who focused on something so hard that he tended to get annoyed if he was interrupted. If I wanted him to really talk about what was going on, I'd need to wait until he was done.

  I also needed to figure out how to approach the subject. I didn't want him to feel like I was attacking him or accusing him of anything. I knew when most women's husbands worked late, the first thing that came to mind was that he was cheating. I wasn't worried about that. The entire time Allen and I had been together, I'd never once doubted his fidelity, and I didn't doubt it now.

  What I found myself wondering, however, was if I was on my way to becoming a work widow. I'd always known that Allen was driven. He never would've gotten this far in life if he hadn't been, and I loved that he was a hard worker. Now, though, I wasn't sure where that line was, the one that told him that his relationship with me was just as important as the vineyard.

  I wandered aimlessly through the house, unable to shake the restlessness that had settled on me since I'd gone inside to find the house empty. I rummaged through the cabinets, considering making something for dinner, then decided I didn't feel like sitting down to eat. I went through each room, picking things up and then setting them down. I cleaned up the little bit of clutter that had accumulated since Hesper had come on Monday. She'd be back on Thursday, but I always tried to keep up with things. Hiring a maid during the school year had been Allen's idea, not mine, and usually I was grateful that I didn't have to come home from work and worry about cleaning, but right now I would've been grateful for something to do.

  I tried finishing grading my papers, but I couldn't focus. Finally, I ended up doing the only thing I could think of. I took a long bath to try to relax, though without the glass of wine I'd considered. I'd always been a lightweight and if I drank on an empty stomach, I'd definitely have a hangover tomorrow. When I was done with my bath and saw that Allen still wasn't home yet, I took a couple of the sleeping pills I kept around for when my insomnia acted up.

  Ten minutes later, I was alone in bed and starting to fall asleep. My last thought was that I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to be in my bed alone again.

  Chapter 3

  “Are you ready yet? I don't want to be late.”

  I summoned every ounce of self-control that I had and answered in a relatively calm voice. “I'm almost done. We'll be fine.”

  Things had been tense between us the last two days. Even though I'd told myself on Wednesday night that I didn't want to go to bed alone ever again, I'd ended up doing it again last night. I'd barely seen Allen, and he'd never said a word about missing our date on Wednesday. I hadn't said anything either. We'd hardly had the time to exchange pleasantries. I wasn't about to start a long conversation in those few short minutes.

  When I'd gotten home from work today, I'd thought I'd be doing more of the same. In fact, I'd fully intended to indulge in the ice cream I'd bought on my way home and watch one of the shows I loved but Allen despised. I'd just gotten out of the shower and was pulling on my robe when I'd heard Allen in the bedroom.

  “Good,” he'd said in his rushed, distracted voice. “I need a quick shower before we go.”

  Then he'd brushed past me, shedding his clothes as he went and leaving me staring after him. It hadn't been until I'd heard the shower turn back on that I realized why Allen had come home early.

  He hadn't done it for me. He'd done it for Jasper.

  Jasper Whitehall had been Allen's college roommate at UCLA. They'd met as freshman and become almost immediate friends. When I'd met Jasper, he and Allen were more like brothers than friends. I'd known the fact that he'd grown up near St. Helena had definitely been a deciding factor for Allen when it came to taking over the vineyard. I hadn't minded though. Staying in California was
much better than going back to Texas with his family.

  Jasper was a doctor, working at a small private practice with his father after he'd gotten his license, so we didn't get to see him as often as I knew Allen would've liked. When Jasper's schedule did allow though, Allen made sure we had the time too.

  I liked Jasper well enough, though I'd never really understood the connection between the two of them. They had little in common, save their work ethic and intelligence. They were opposites in so many ways. Allen's hair was light. Jasper's was coal black. Allen's eyes were an open book. Jasper had clear gray eyes that were impossible to read. He was bigger than Allen, though more in build than height. Where Allen's talents lay in numbers and shrewd business decisions, Jasper worked with people. I didn't really think of him as a people person, though, but I supposed that was because he wasn't very social. Most of the time when Allen and I had gone out in college, it had been like pulling teeth to get Jasper to go with us. But he cared about people.

  I'd never really spent any alone time with Jasper even though I considered him a friend. For the most part, I enjoyed Jasper's company as much for what it did for Allen as anything else. I liked the way the two of them were together.

  I reminded myself of that as I put on the final touches of my make-up. Sure, Allen had forgotten about our date, but not about us going out with Jasper. I told myself that it was because Allen so rarely saw Jasper that those dates stuck out in his mind. He saw me all the time.

  Gina's comments came back to me and I frowned. What did it say about the state of my marriage that Allen was more excited to see his old roommate than his wife?

  I shook my head and smoothed down my dress. I'd been trying to convince myself that I was just worn thin from the end of the year, that a night out was what I needed to feel better. I knew the truth though. What I wanted – what I needed – was my husband's attention.

  Hence the dress.

  It was my favorite and it had been too long since I'd last worn it. A deep purple, it complemented both my coloring and my eyes. The hem hit mid-thigh and the neckline was, for lack of a better word, daring. I'd always felt beautiful wearing it, and tonight, I needed to feel beautiful.

  I came out of the bathroom and slipped on my heels. When I stepped out into the living room, I felt a surge of pleasure at the expression on Allen's face when he saw me. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped slightly.

  “Wow.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled, a flush of warmth going through me. “Shall we go?”

  As I started to walk past him, I half-expected him to do what he used to do when he wore that look. Wrap his arm around my waist and pull me against him. Whisper in my ear how much he wanted me. Take me hard and fast, bent over the bed. Peel my clothes slowly from my body and make me beg. Not care about anything but our mutual pleasure.

  He didn't do any of those things though. Instead, he followed me out of the house, quick stepping around me to get to the passenger's side door so he could open it for me. When we were on our way, he reached over and took my hand. I shivered as his fingers threaded through mine, his thumb making small circles on the back of my hand. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed this, the small touches. I squeezed his hand and gave him a quick smile, not wanting to distract him while he was driving. Maybe when we got home I'd have the opportunity to follow through with a lot more than hand holding.

  Jasper was already waiting for us when we arrived at the restaurant and he stood as we approached. He smiled when he saw us, his face lighting up, making him look years younger than Allen. Jasper was classically handsome, a fact that wasn't lost on our hostess, and I couldn't suppress a smile at the envious look she threw my way.

  “You look lovely, Shae.” Jasper gave me a quick hug, then turned to Allen for a longer one. “So do you, Allen.” One corner of his mouth quirked.

  Allen rolled his eyes. “Did you start drinking already?” He pulled out the chair in front of me.

  “No.” Jasper gestured towards his empty wine glass. “But I would like to celebrate a bit tonight. I paid off the last of my student loans.”

  “How'd you manage that?” I asked, impressed. If I hadn't gotten a lot of scholarships, and Allen and I hadn't only had my loans to worry about, we still would've been paying them off. As it was, it had taken us two years to get all of mine cleared. We were well-off, but not millionaires, as Allen's family loved to remind us. If the vineyard kept doing well though, in a few years, who knew. “I'd imagine med school loans are awful.”

  To my surprise, his ears turned red and he looked down at the table. If I hadn't known how unflappable he usually was, I would've said he was embarrassed.

  “I was out on a bike trail a few days ago and came across an injured dog. I took it back to the practice and fixed it up. Dad was pissed until it turned out that the dog's owner was rich and very, very grateful.” He shrugged. “I tried to turn her down, but she was determined to show her gratitude.”

  “Was she pretty?” Allen grinned and I shook my head.

  Jasper shot him an exasperated look. “She's ninety.” He took a sip of water. “But she said she knew that doctors had hefty student loans and that she'd take care of mine. I told her it wasn't necessary, but the next day, I got a call saying all of my student loans had been paid off.”

  “That definitely calls for some celebration,” Allen said as he clapped his friend on the shoulder. “I'm buying.”

  As Allen flagged down a waiter to order some wine, I turned to Jasper. “How is the practice going?”

  A shadow passed across his face and I was immediately sorry I'd asked. Jasper worked with his father, but I'd always gotten the impression that he and his family didn't get along very well, or they weren't close. I'd seen them a few times over the years, but had never really said much to them beyond greetings. Jasper never talked about them, at least not around me. I'd never asked Allen for details. In my opinion, if Jasper wanted me to know, he'd tell me himself.

  “It's going fine.” Jasper's smile was tight. “Not exactly where I'd pictured myself when I was closing in on thirty.”

  “Really?” I leaned forward so that Jasper and I wouldn't interfere with Allen's wine discussion. “I always thought you wanted to work with your dad.”

  Jasper shrugged and glanced at me before looking down at his water glass. He ran his finger around the rim and, for a moment, I thought he wasn't going to answer. “Most people think that, but I never really liked the idea of a private practice.”

  “That's right,” Allen entered the conversation. “You wanted to do some sort of clinic.”

  Jasper nodded. “I want to set up a clinic for the lower income people in the area, provide free healthcare.” He sighed. “But that takes more money than I have.”

  “Have you looked into getting a loan?” I asked. “Especially now that your student loans are paid off, you should qualify.”

  “No one around here's going to give me a loan,” he said matter-of-factly. “But I'm planning on looking at a couple other places that might do it.”

  I started to ask why he thought the banks in St. Helena wouldn't want to give him a loan for something that would benefit the community, but before the words got out, the waiter returned with the wine. It was a good thing too because, as our glasses were being filled, I figured it out.

  Back when I'd first met Jasper, Allen had given me a bit of background on his best friend, including the fact that Jasper had been quite the hellion growing up. I'd never gotten details, but I'd gotten the impression that it had been pretty bad. It seemed that Jasper was still fighting against his adolescent reputation. I had to admit, knowing how far he'd come definitely made me admire him. I wondered if that was why his relationship with his family was so strained.

  Allen's expression was serious as he raised his glass. “To leaving the past behind and moving forward.”

  Jasper and I echoed the toast. It was a good toast, I thought. Advice that I should take for myself as well. With our anniv
ersary coming up, I wanted to celebrate, but I also wanted Allen and me to move forward. I didn't want us being one of those couples who settled into a routine and then lost themselves in it. I wanted us to go into the second year of marriage knowing that the best years were to come.

  Chapter 4

  The dinner with Jasper kept us on a high note for the rest of the weekend. Allen did work, but instead of going to his office, he stayed at the house and the two of us sat on the couch and worked together. The only downside was that I still couldn't figure out how to approach the subject of us moving forward. I tried to do it Sunday afternoon by coming at it in a roundabout way.

  “I think we should find someone to set Jasper up with.”

  Allen looked over at me in surprise. “What?”

  “Every time we go out, he's always alone. He never brings anyone.” The moment I said it, I realized it was true. I'd maybe seen him with a girl a handful of times in all the years I'd known him, and it had always been a different girl. And he'd always made it clear that they weren't with him for the long haul.

  Allen was silent for a moment, a strange expression on his face, and then he said, “I don't think Jasper's the 'setting up' type.”

  “He doesn't want to settle down?” I asked, really curious now.

  I wasn't sure why, but Jasper didn't seem to me like the kind of guy who wanted to play the field, even though I'd seen him with different women. And there was no way a man like him would lack for prospects. He was gorgeous, polite and kind. And a doctor. He was the kind of guy who should've been either married to someone equally as amazing, or involved in a steady stream of casual relationships. As I thought about it, even his dates over the years had been sporadic.

  When Allen answered, he spoke slowly, like he was being careful about the words he chose. “I think he's very selective about what he wants.” He turned back to his computer and I got the impression that the subject was closed.