THE GREAT PRETENDER (26 page)

She was adjusting her shoe rack when the doorbell chimed. Running to the door, Justine flung it open and greeted Tracy with an enormous smile.

Smiling hesitantly, Tracy asked, “Justine, who lives here? What’s going on?” She stepped into the foyer as Justine stepped aside to let her in.

Sitting on the oversized white leather sofas, Justine gave Tracy a condensed version of the recent roller-coaster ride she’d been on. She had adjusted the volume of the music so that it played softly throughout the house.

“My goodness! Why didn’t you tell me about all this sooner?”

Justine brushed her long hair away from her face. “Oh, I just had to get through the mess before I could talk about it with anyone, you know?”

“I guess so,” said Tracy. “So you’re actually leaving Roger? Unbelievable. You two seem so good together, always in sync with each other—or so it seemed.” Tracy shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe he’s been having so many affairs.”

“Believe it, Tracy. You know what the sad part is? I really believed that he loved me. For years, I just settled into the easy life. In a way, I let Roger buy my trust. All I had to do was give the slightest hint that I wanted something, and poof, it was there—like magic.”

“So when did you decide to hire the PI?”

“Well,” she chuckled. “It was something that I considered doing myself at first. But then I thought better of it, since I needed good proof to use against him in the divorce.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I still believe that Roger loves you. I mean, you can even see it in the way he looks at you, Justine.”

“You mean despite the fact that he’s fucking the entire U. S. of A.?” She looked pointedly at Tracy.

“Yes, in spite of that…just because Roger sleeps with other women doesn’t mean he doesn’t love
you
…in his heart.”

“But, Tracy, how can you say that? This isn’t just one woman we’re talking about here. By the way, do you want something to drink? I can’t believe my manners!” She laughed, heading for the kitchen.

“What do you have?” asked Tracy, following her.

“Anything you want. The kitchen is gloriously stocked! But you know what? I feel like eating pizza. You hungry?”

“Yeah, pizza’s good. Off my diet, but what the hell!”

An hour later
, they were sitting around the coffee table in the den, watching a rerun of
Three’s Company
. Biting into her second slice of pepperoni pizza, Justine threw her head back saying, “You know, I feel really good about this! A new life, a fresh start. I might even meet someone else sooner than I think.” Justine winked.

Tracy laughed. “Are you seriously going to put yourself back on the market so soon? Can’t you at least wait until the ink’s dry on the divorce papers?”

“Look, it may not be the safest way to put Roger out of my mind, but it is a guaranteed way, and I’m ready. Don’t worry,” she added when she saw the look on Tracy’s face. “I’ll be careful.”

Tracy swallowed and took a sip of Pepsi. “Just be sensible, Justine. I’m happy for you though. Only
you
know what’s going to make you happy. If Roger’s not doing it for you anymore, more power to being a single woman.”

“Thank you. That means so much. The support is really needed right now. I don’t know that my family’s going to feel the same way, but that’s another story. It doesn’t matter what they think, right? Because in the end, it’s me who’s living my life.” Justine raised her Pepsi can.

“Amen to that,” said Tracy, tapping her can against Justine’s.

“Okay, enough about me. How’s Olivia doing? Did everything go smoothly?”

“Yes, thank God, it went very well. She’s okay. I think she’s stronger than any of us really know. She’ll pull through this experience with something learned, and that’s the best she can get from it.”

“That’s true,” said Justine, downing the last of the soda.

Tracy had an idea. Pride made her hesitant to broach the subject with anyone, even Justine. They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the companionship.

The seed had been planted weeks before, when the woman with the distant voice had called. Renee Jameson. Tracy wondered if that was her real name or if it was just a cover. Curiosity got the best of her; so she bit the bullet.

“Justine, could you give me the number to your PI?”

Justine stared at her, confused for a few moments before realization set in; then she sat up. “Tracy, just because it was the right thing for me doesn’t mean it’s the best thing for you. I mean, Reginald
really
loves you. What the two of you have is so far superior to the farce Roger and I had that it’s ridiculous.”

“A woman called the house the other day, said her name was Renee Jameson. I need to find out about her. I need to find out who she is and how she fits into Reggie’s life. I mean, I wouldn’t even confront him about it. I just need to know, you know?”

“You believe there’s someone else in Orlando, don’t you?” When Tracy nodded, Justine continued. “Why wouldn’t you confront him about it?”

Tracy shook her head. “Because of the circumstances. I mean, he’s spent an awful lot of time in Orlando over the years and…I
know
that he loves me. I think that’s the important thing. He loves me and the girls and he’s here now, giving us his all.”

“Well, if you feel that way, why bother with the investigation? It could only cause pain. You must know that?”

Tracy placed her soda can on the coaster in front of her. “I want to know, just to pacify my selfish curiosity.”

“But if you already know they’ve had an affair, what else is there?”

“Who is she? What does she do? Where exactly does she live? How long has he been seeing her? What does she mean to Reggie?” Tracy paused. “I just need to know. Don’t ask me to explain why, because I’m sure I can’t.” She relaxed into the soft cushion of the sofa. “So will you give me his number, or do I have to find one of my own?” Tracy chuckled.

Sighing, Justine shrugged. “I’ll give you his contact info, but please remember to take your own advice.
Be sensible.
Did you or did you not just say that to me not five minutes ago?”

“Don’t worry. I know that if you go looking for snakes, you shouldn’t be shocked if you’re bitten. I’m not expecting to be
overjoyed
by what I find out about this Renee Jameson, but I can handle it. I’ll
have
to handle it.”

After filling Justine in on their upcoming plans to fly to New York, Tracy helped her clean up before returning to the original discussion. “You know it’s pure courage that led you to this point,” she said, “and now I’m going to need a lot of it myself. Wish me luck.”

The women shared a warm hugged.

Perhaps this will
be for the best,
Justine thought a few minutes later, waving after Tracy’s Cherokee. At least Tracy would find out about the little girl, which had always been something Justine felt Tracy should’ve learned years ago. Her loyalty to Roger, however, had stopped her from telling her friend.

Well, now Brent Stone would do the same for Tracy as he had done for her—confirm what she already knew to be true.
Well, not exactly,
she thought. Tracy did have a shocking discovery in store—a six-year-old discovery.

Justine hoped that Tracy would turn to her for support when she needed it. Because there was no doubt whatsoever that she would need someone—and soon.

T
he edgy sound of Lenny Kravitz blared from Olivia’s car speakers as she and Valerie headed to her new house in Weston.

She was grateful, having just closed and moved in the previous week, that Valerie was willing to help her unpack the rest of her stuff. All the furnishings and household items were brand-new, save for an armchair, a couple of barstools, dining ware, and a few other items donated by her parents.

Despite the relocation, Olivia’s step toward happiness was still incomplete. Lenny was responsible for her melancholy mood this afternoon. The CD belonged to Sean, who had been MIA since yesterday.

Since their parents had gone to New York on a mini-getaway, they had agreed to let Valerie stay with her. Surprisingly enough, Olivia welcomed the company. “So, tell me more about this Joseph,” she said, turning the volume down on the radio. She needed to kick this semi-depressive state and Lenny Kravitz wasn’t really helping, so she decided to stop thinking about herself and focus on her little sister. “How’d you two meet?”

Valerie popped her bubble gum, smiling. “I told you, he goes to my school. Lydia’s boyfriend had weight training with him last semester.” It was mid-August, and school was still out for summer recess. In that time, Valerie had pulled nearly every trick in the book to get away and spend time with Joe—lots of movies, sleepovers, and trips to the skating rink or the arcade with Lydia. Thankfully, her parents did not seem to be suspicious about the increase in her outings with Lydia. Valerie assumed that they felt bad about keeping her holed up in the house for nearly a month without her phone or television.

Olivia pulled into her garage. “So, is he cute? How come you’ve never brought him to the house—you know, introduced him?”

“I don’t know, Liv. I wanna wait awhile. You know, put some space between all that crap with me and Debbie. Then I’ll feel better about bringing a guy home.”

“Are you sure there isn’t something wrong with him that’s stopping you? I mean, he isn’t some hoodlum or anything, is he?” She reached for her purse in the backseat and got out of the car.

“He’s not a hoodlum!” said Valerie, shutting her door and rolling her eyes. “He’s, well, you’ll see when you meet him.”

Once inside, Valerie dropped her bags in the spare bedroom, used the bathroom, and then joined Olivia in her room. She was sitting on the bed, checking her voicemail. “I wanna invite him to come over. Can I?” asked Valerie as she flopped onto the bed.

“Sure,” Olivia replied, “but if I pick up on even one itty-bitty scent of a low life, he’s outta here.”

“Speaking of lowlifes,” said Valerie. “What’s this doing here?”

When Olivia looked over at Valerie, she was holding up a Miami Heat knapsack.

It belonged to Sean.

“Olivia, don’t tell me you moved out of the house
just
so you could take Sean back without any of us knowing! That’s so pathetic,” Valerie said, dropping the bag in disgust.

“Look, Val, don’t start. Yes, I took him back. If you don’t like it, then just mind your own business. I don’t want any negativity from you about
my
own choices. Especially before I get to size up this Joseph person. Now, will you please come and help me unpack the rest of the dishes?” With that, Olivia headed for the kitchen.

New York City, New York

T
he fast-paced lifestyle of New York City never ceased to amaze Tracy.

Settling into the leather seat of their rental, she relaxed, drinking in the midmorning crowds as Reginald skillfully maneuvered through the sea of cars and pedestrians. They expected the ride from LaGuardia Airport to the Plaza to be about twenty-five to thirty minutes.

After landing, they had gotten their luggage and visited the rental car desk in record time. All Reggie wanted to do now was get some sleep. In preparation for his absence, he had been up late the night before, tying last-minute loose ends with Roger. “You won’t mind if I catch up on my sleep before we go to Mervena’s, would you? I’m beat,” he said around a yawn that spoke for itself.

“No, honey, you can take a nap…I’ll just do some sightseeing after we check in. I’ll call Mervena and tell her we’ll stay in tonight and come over tomorrow.”

Once they had
checked
into their suite, Reginald tipped the bellman and closed the door behind him. The front desk called to inquire about their satisfaction, and as Tracy assured them that everything was fine, Reginald went to the bathroom for a quick shower before his nap.

Though the shower lasted no more than five minutes, when he emerged, a cloud of steam behind him, Tracy had already gone. His disappointment was immediate. He had hoped to come out and find her waiting to make love to him before he fell asleep.