Our Wicked Lies Gledé Kabongo (summer reading list .txt) 📖

Couldn’t get the words out. Too many things were happening inside of her at once. The weight of betrayal pressed down on her as though an African Elephant just stumped on her chest. Alicia breathed in and out, but no matter how deeply she inhaled, she couldn’t get enough oxygen. Her life had turned into a soap opera. Kat was her best friend. No, Alicia considered Kat a sister. Alicia loved her friend. They lifted each other up, supported each other. But this?

“Oh, Alicia, I’m so sorry,” Rina said. “David didn’t know what to make of it, so he asked me to keep quiet. He didn’t want me sticking my nose where it didn’t belong and causing trouble.”

“Two years,” Alicia croaked. She couldn’t wrap her head around it. “They’ve been carrying on behind my back for two years? Kat pretended to be my friend, my champion, all the while she was sleeping with my husband, plotting to destroy my family, my life?”

“What are you going to do?” Rina asked.

It was a logical question to which she had no answer. Richard DeLuca, in his own subtle way, had tried to warn Alicia by telling her that Kat didn’t deserve her kindness. But she hadn’t gotten it, just like she’d missed Rina’s alerts by not taking the notes seriously. Loyalty to Kat had blinded Alicia.

The cruel things she’d said in those emails played on every one of Alicia’s insecurities. In retrospect, it made sense. Who knew her better than her so-called best friend? What better way to dismantle her life than to leverage insider information?

Alicia drew herself up slowly to her full height, strengthened by a new resolve. “I’m going to make sure that Kat never comes near my family again.”

CHAPTER 31

Eliot placed his briefcase on the cherry-wood coffee table. He had just wrapped up a meeting with a potential client who didn’t want to sit in a stuffy conference room and so had asked Eliot to his hotel instead. The large, floor-to-ceiling windows and overall atmosphere of the hotel lobby were much more conducive to real conversations than soulless meeting rooms the client had said. Eliot was inclined to agree.

He stood up and made a left in the direction of the hotel’s restaurant, intending to grab a quick lunch before he headed back to the office. But as he turned toward the bistro, he almost collided with another guest. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and continued walking.

“Eliot. Eliot Gray.”

He turned around. There was something familiar about the stranger. The man inched closer.

“Wes George!” Eliot boomed. “My goodness, man, how many years has it been?”

“Too many,” Wes said. The men shook hands enthusiastically.

Eliot and Wes had been in the same class at Harvard Law, and together with Damon Hill, they had jokingly dubbed themselves the “Legal Bros”. They were the only African-American men in their class and had stuck together throughout their time at Harvard. Eliot hadn’t seen Wes since they both attended a gala recognizing the city’s top lawyers, five years ago.

“Still with Wilson & Carlyle?” Eliot asked.

“No. I moved on to greener pastures. Davidson & Lynch.”

“Oh. Family law.”

“Yes. I mostly handle divorce cases for high-net-worth clients. I hear you’ve done well for yourself at Tillerson Brenner.”

“I have no complaints,” Eliot bragged.

Wes lowered his voice. “I’m sorry to hear about you and Alicia. I thought you two would go the distance. As an old friend, that makes me sad. This is off the record obviously.”

Eliot frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Wes rubbed his chin, confused. Then he held up his hands and slowly backed away. “It’s clear I’ve said too much. It was good seeing you again, Eliot.” He headed for the bank of elevators without a backward glance.

Eliot’s stomach fluttered, and suddenly his suit was too thick and tight and wouldn’t let him breath. Then the truth gut-punched him, rendering him breathless. You complete idiot. How could you have missed the signs? All of Alicia’s recent behavior suddenly made sense. She knew.

He flopped down in the same seating area he’d occupied with his client moments earlier. He needed a minute to get his breathing back to normal and for his brain to process everything. For any other client, Wes could get in serious trouble for breaking client privilege, but Wes was speaking as an old friend, not an attorney. He was giving Eliot the heads-up.

Divorce? Alicia wanted a divorce? It didn’t make sense. When she’d asked about Nathan Hunt and thought he’d been cheating on her because of that phone call in Paris, he’d shut down those concerns with unequivocal denials and reassurances that he wasn’t going anywhere. If she had proof, she would have already confronted him. What was he missing?

A sickening realization dawned on Eliot. There was only one explanation. Faith had carried out her threat. “You have to tell Alicia about us. I’m tired of being your dirty little secret.”

Eliot whipped out the burner phone from his briefcase and typed a text message. Rage flowed through his fingers into every word.

Meet me at the apartment in thirty minutes. If you don’t, I will dismantle your life, piece by piece. Starting today.

CHAPTER 32

“Tell the truth,” Eliot snarled. “The pregnancy is a fake. You made it up.”

“No, I didn’t. I am pregnant.”

She had arrived at the apartment before he did. His rage had morphed into red-hot boiling fury on the drive over. Now that he was face-to-face with her, in the center of the living room, he let it all out.

“I want proof. I bought a pregnancy test. You’re going to take it while I stand outside the bathroom door. Then we’ll have our answer.”

Panic flittered across her face. Her body tensed even more.

Gotcha.

“I don’t have to do anything, Eliot. If you don’t believe me, that’s your problem, but I’m not taking that test, so you can stop waving it in my face.”

“Okay then.” He pulled out his phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling Arnie Tillerson. I warned you I