Men Like This by Roxanne Smith

Author:Roxanne Smith [Smith, Roxanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lyrical Press
Published: 2015-04-13T23:00:00+00:00

Neither Blake’s awkward teenage ventures nor Nicholas’s stale repetition of cafés and teatime compared to Jack’s idea of a date. What a wonderful, brilliant day. Then again, picking out car insurance with Jack would probably be a good time. He kept fun inside a little pouch tucked in his pocket and sprinkled it everywhere he went.

At least, that was one theory.

They’d returned to Quinn’s flat bogged down by paper sacks full of groceries. The few photographers mingling near her doorstep had been polite, even offered to hold her bags while she turned the lock. Jack, arms loaded, engaged them with his sunny personality and smiled for a picture.

She’d bet ten dollars tomorrow’s headline would accuse her of domesticating him.

The mood shifted when Jack left her alone to put away the food while he disappeared for a shower. He’d popped back in with wet hair and announced Biscuit needed a walk. He’d start cooking when they returned.

She stood alone in the kitchen with nothing but an air of deflation and a crowded countertop for company. She crossed her arms and examined the weirdly empty space, the marked difference between his absence and his presence.

Her flat seemed . . . flat.

Maybe checking messages wasn’t a bad idea. Her cell phone sat forgotten on the bedside table. Three missed calls met her, the first from her dad. Guilt swamped her. She made a solemn swear to try him first thing in the morning. Another missed call from Blake.

She dismissed it entirely. The lack of voice message awaiting her told her it hadn’t been Seth. Her son always left a colorful message when she missed a call.

Vickie had been the last person to try her.

Calling to gloat over her recent interview, perhaps? Accuse Quinn to her face of being a home wrecker? Ironic, since it was Jack who’d wrecked her home the day the story broke. Whatever she’d wanted, Quinn doubted it had been anything good. People like Vickie didn’t call to make amends.

Then again, what amends did she owe Quinn?

Her heart skittered as reality fell on her like a grand piano in a Looney Tunes episode.

She was the other woman. The mistress.

The Kira.

She lowered herself onto the bed. It didn’t matter if Vickie had a boyfriend on the side. Did it make her assumption Jack had been sleeping around any less painful? The sight of Quinn on his arm in every magazine any less heartbreaking? Vickie looked at her and saw a woman like Kira.

Quinn begged off from dinner citing a sudden stomachache and went to bed early. Sleep proved elusive, however.

Finding herself in Kira’s shoes made her ill, but what really bothered her was the crushing guilt she experienced every time she caught herself dreaming of her relationship with Jack growing into something real out of the ashes of their ruse.

Had Kira gone through the same motions with Blake? Had she wondered when she’d stop being the woman in the shadows and start being the woman at his side, in his home,

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