Our Wicked Lies by Gledé Kabongo (story read aloud TXT) 📗

devastation when Alicia lost the baby. Arnie had consoled him and given him advice, even forced him to take time off from work to grieve and be there for Alicia. In a way, Eliot had betrayed Arnie too.

I thought I knew you.

“It’s my mess and I take full responsibility. I’m sorry, Arnie. I’ll get it sorted out.”

Arnie stood and rocked back and forth on his heels, hands in his pockets. “I’ve made a decision. You’ll work from home until this whole thing blows over. I’ll get our PR firm to put out a statement saying you’ve been put on leave pending the outcome of the investigation, that we have every confidence in your innocence, and that it’s a shame the media has besmirched the reputation of such an outstanding man, so on and so on.”

“Understood.”

“And for goodness sakes, don’t say anything to the police without a lawyer present. I can’t believe you took the risk.”

“I thought Detective McBride was after the truth. It won’t happen again. If he wants to speak to Alicia or me, he will have to do it through our attorney.”

“Good. Although you might have bigger fish to fry than McBride. Paula is pissed at you.”

Paula was Arnie’s lovely but formidable wife.

“She likes Alicia. She might try to string you by your nuts the next time she sees you. In the meantime, keep a low profile while I try to reassure our clients that neither you nor Alicia is a murderer.”

CHAPTER 51

KATALINA TORRES

August 13, 2015

DIARY ENTRY

Eleven long years we have done this dance and now, finally, thanks to my powers of persuasion and a talented real estate broker, Eliot and I live in the same town, on the same street.

Nothing can bring me down from this high. Not even Richard has the power to take away the rush.

“Where did you really go this weekend?” he asked last night after I returned.

I feigned innocence—I could hardly tell him of Eliot and my sweet reunion. A fabulous weekend at Chanler Cliff Walk in Newport, Rhode Island, a nineteenth-century mansion converted into a luxury hotel with rooms that overlooked the Atlantic. Old world elegance combined with modern amenities. My kind of place. The last of our carefully planned weekend trysts, and the beginning of so much more.

But my husband was persistent. Said he hadn’t seen me this happy in a long while and he just knew I had a secret lover. I wasn’t about to confess, so I ignored him. He followed me into the master suite and shut the door behind him. The more he demanded answers, the more stubborn I became. That infuriated him.

I have never seen him so angry, full of rage. When he grabbed me by the throat and shoved my head into the bedroom wall, I was stunned. But I refused to cry or beg him to stop. That infuriated him further. He then called me a shameless slut, stormed out of the room, and slammed the door behind him. My head hurt, but it didn’t matter; I had my sights on a bigger prize.

The next morning, Monday, I was pumped. It was time to meet Mrs. Gray face-to-face, size her up, see what I was up against. I told Eliot I had no intention of being his secret forever. He brushed me off, and then kissed me and then, well… But I wanted out of my marriage to Richard and a future with him, but first, I had to deal with the current wife. And to do that, I needed insight into her personality, her secret fears and insecurities, I needed to learn what made her tick, what brought her joy and pain, learn her backstory. I wanted leverage.

I won’t lie. I was disappointed when she opened the front door. Average. Across the board. She didn’t possess the beauty, charm, or elegance I expected from the woman who canceled Eliot’s bachelor card. I always made it a point to never look at photos of her or learn anything about her prior to this day, as I wanted to imagine myself as the only woman in Eliot’s life. Plus, I wanted the in-person meeting to be special, no preconceived ideas to spoil it.

She was barefoot, dressed in a tie-dyed maxi dress, with fringe trim and a fitted bodice. It would have looked better on someone taller with a statuesque figure, but she was around five foot three and far from svelte. I’m not saying she was fat or anything, but she definitely knew her way around a meal or two.

She just stared at me, in wonderment, like she didn’t think women who looked like me existed in real life, only on overly air-brushed magazine covers. No air-brushing here. One hundred percent the real deal. I didn’t bother introducing myself at that moment. I made some barb about melting in a puddle because she took so long to answer the door and it was hotter than hell that day.

Then I barged into the house like I owned the place. It was best to establish the relationship dynamics right away. I would be in control at all times, and she would be the loyal lackey who would do anything I asked because “desperate for friends” was written all over her face. This was going to be so easy, snatching Eliot away from her. I was almost disappointed as I’d looked forward to a good fight, but it just made my journey to becoming Eliot’s one-and-only so much easier.

I listened attentively as she poured out her whole, sad backstory, about how she grew up poor in the hood, her mother dying, how she met Eliot. Ah. So pathetic and desperately in need of affirmation. I can do that. I happen to be a fantastic actress.

CHAPTER 52

Unknown: Did you tell her the truth about you and Katalina? Two years? Ha! Don’t make me call Detective McBride, Eliot. Tell Alicia