"You should get it." She leans over me, her full, round breasts brushing against my chest. "It might be important."
"It's not important."
"You don't know that." She inches her reach closer to the phone. "What if it's about work?"
I grab her hand to stall it. "I don't care who it is. This is more important."
She stops and stares at me. "I'm sorry I was crying in the shower."
My hand jumps to my chest at the words. I feel an instant ache inside of me. "You're sorry for crying?" I ask. "You're sorry that you were upset? Why?"
"You have such a high pressure job." She leans back and I let go of her hand. "I don't want to add to that."
It's a weak excuse. Jessica has never been overly concerned with the stress of my work. It's not for lack of interest. She's always pressing me to work less and live more. Right now, she's using it as an excuse to hide behind her own wall of secrets. Seeing her body overcome with sadness when I got home pushed me to my breaking point. "We have to talk about what's going on."
I see her shut down right before my eyes. She's not about to start a confessional about her and the Governor. I'm going to have to rip every detail out of her with pointed questions. I get that. I see it.
"I was just having a bad day."
"You're lying." I don't see any reason to mince words. I'm not going to let her waste my time by leading down a path that has no eventual destination. She's better at diverting than I am which says a lot considering my career path.
Her reaction isn't instantaneous. She stalls before she finally speaks. "You have no right calling me a liar."
It's a weak defense. "I call it like I see it, Jessica. Don't bullshit me anymore."
Her brow pops up and in the dim light of the room I can't register anything more in her expression. "You're still hung up on Thomas talking to me, aren't you?"
If the woman knew how to shoot a gun, she'd be an expert marksman. That hit and it hurt. Her intended target, namely me, didn't even see that coming. "No. I saw him."
I wait for her reaction. It's going to tell me a lot about whether she's talked to him since this afternoon. She's horrible at disguising her true feelings. "When?"
I arch my brow. "You didn't know?"
"Know what?" She leans back on her elbows creating distance between us on the bed.
"Christ," I say under my breath. "Let's not play games."
"I'm not playing any games."
"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Jessica." I push on her forearm. "I saw Thomas. I saw him today."
She's up on her ass in an instant, the sheet falling to reveal her plump tits. "I told you I handled that. Why did you go see him?"
I level my eyes on her face. I can't stare at her ripe, beautiful body if I'm going to make any headway with this. "He came to see me."
"Why?"
I need to be at eye level with her when I discuss this so I sit up and lean my back into the heavy, wooden headboard. "He wanted me to give you a message."
Her hand bolts to pull the sheet up over her chest. She feels exposed. I can see it not only in the movement of her body, but I can hear it in how labored her breathing has suddenly become. "What message?"
I want to touch her. If I touch her, she'll know that we're connected regardless of what her asshole of an ex-lover said to me. I skim my hand along her leg. "He told me you signed an agreement."
Her head darts to the side. She stares directly at me. "That's all he said?"
I spare her the juvenile details of the Governor's need to talk about her oral skills. My skin is still on fire from that comment. "He wanted me to remind you that you signed a confidentiality agreement."
"He didn't tell you more than that?" There's a hopeful lilt to her voice that wasn't there before. I can sense the relief washing off her shoulders. She's suddenly less tense. She leans forward, letting her arms relax at her sides.