Читать книгу The Perfect Wife - Блейк Пирс - Страница 4

Despite the endless shouting, Jessie tried to fight off the headache nibbling at the edges of her skull. Daughton, the sweet-natured but shockingly loud three-year-old son of Edward and Melanie Carlisle, had spent the last twenty minutes playing a game called Explosion which largely consisted of him yelling “boom!”

Neither Melanie (“call me Mel”) nor Edward (“Teddy” to his friends) seemed at all bothered by the intermittent screams so Jessie and Kyle acted like it was normal too. They were sitting in the Carlisle living room, catching up before a planned walk down to the harbor for brunch. The Carlisles lived only three blocks away from there.

Kyle and Teddy had been chatting outside for the last half hour while Jessie reacquainted herself with Mel in the kitchen. She only vaguely remembered her from their one previous meeting but after only a few minutes, they settled into a comfortable vibe.

“I’d ask Teddy to grill but I don’t want you guys to get sick your first week down here,” Mel said snarkily. “We’re much safer going to the waterfront to eat.”

“Not the best cook ever?” Jessie asked with a little grin.

“Let’s just put it this way. If he ever offers to cook, pretend you have an emergency to attend to. Because if you eat anything he’s made, you really will have an emergency on your hands.”

“What’s that, hon?” Teddy asked as he and Kyle came inside. He was a paunchy, doughy-looking guy with receding blond hair and pale skin that looked like it would burn after five minutes in the sun. Jessie also sensed that his personality was much the same—doughy and malleable. Some deep instinct she couldn’t describe but had learned to trust over the years told her that Teddy Carlisle was a weak man.

“Nothing, sweetie,” she said casually as she winked at Jessie. “Just giving Jessie here some essential Westport Beach survival info.”

“Right,” he said. “Make sure to warn her about the traffic over by Jamboree Road and the Pacific Coast Highway. It can be a bear.”

“That was next on my list,” Mel said innocently as she got up from the kitchen barstool.

As she went into the living room to collect Daughton’s toys from the floor, Jessie couldn’t help but notice that in her tennis skirt and polo top, her petite frame was all sinewy muscle. Her calves bulged and her wiry biceps flexed impressively as she swept up about a dozen Matchbox cars in one swift motion.

Everything about her, including her short black hair, her boundless energy, and her take-no-prisoners bark of a voice projected tough, no-nonsense New York chick, which was exactly what she’d been before moving west.

Jessie liked her immediately, though she couldn’t understand what drew her to a schlub like Teddy. It ate at her slightly. Jessie prided herself on reading people. And this hole in her informal profile of Mel was mildly unsettling.

“We ready to go?” Teddy asked. He too was dressed smartly in a loose button-up shirt and white slacks.

“Just collect your son and we’ll be all set,” Mel said sharply.

Teddy, apparently used to her tone, went off to find the “Explosion” machine without a word. A few seconds later, they heard screeching as he came back holding Daughton, who was struggling mightily, upside down by his ankles.

“Daddy, stop!” the boy screamed.

“Put him down, Edward,” Mel hissed.

“He talked back,” Teddy said as he lowered his son to the floor. “I just needed to remind him that sort of thing isn’t okay.”

“But what if he slipped free and cracked his head?” Mel demanded.

“Then he’d have learned a valuable lesson,” Teddy replied casually, apparently in no way troubled by the prospect.

Kyle chuckled appreciatively and only stopped when Jessie shot daggers at him with her eyes. He tried to turn the laugh into a cough but it was too late and he shrugged at her apologetically.

As they headed off to the harbor, down the well-maintained trail that ran parallel to the main road, Jessie looked at how she and Kyle were dressed compared to their counterparts. Even Daughton, who had his father’s pale skin but his mother’s dark hair, had on ironed shorts and a collared shirt. Kyle was in board shorts and a T-shirt and Jessie had thrown on a breezy peasant dress at the last minute.

“Are you sure we’re dressed properly to have brunch at your club?” she asked Mel apprehensively.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. You’re our guests. The dress code policies don’t apply to you. Only members get lashes for inappropriate attire. And since Daughton’s little, he’d only get a grazing from a hot poker.” Mel must have seen the look in Jessie’s eyes because she immediately put her hand on her wrist and added, “I’m kidding.”

Jessie smiled tightly at her inability to loosen up. Just then, Daughton ran past her with an impressive “boom” that made her jump.

“He’s got a lot of energy,” she said, trying to sound admiring. “I’d like to bottle it.”

“Yeah,” Mel agreed. “He’s a piece of work. But I love him. It’s weird how stuff that annoys other people is charming when it’s your kid. You’ll see what I mean when it happens to you. Assuming that’s what you want, I mean.”

“It is,” Jessie said. “We’ve talked about it for a while. There have just been some…hiccups along the way. But we’re hoping the change of scenery will help.”

“Well, I should warn you. The topic is likely to come up often among the women you’ll be meeting today. They love to talk about kids and everything kid-related. You’ll probably get asked about your plans. But don’t sweat it. That’s kind of the default, go-to conversation around here.”

“Thanks for heads-up,” Jessie said as they reached the end of the path.

She stopped for a moment to take in the view. They were at the edge of a cliff overlooking Balboa Island and Promontory Bay. Beyond that was the Balboa Peninsula, the last chunk of land before the Pacific Ocean. The deep blue water extended as far as she could see, eventually merging with the lighter cerulean sky, dotted with a few puffy white clouds. It was breathtaking.

Closer in, she saw the busy marina, with boats moving in and out in some unspoken system that was far more organized and beautiful than the freeway. People, small as ants from up here, were wandering around the pier complex and its many shops and restaurants. It looked like there might be a farmer’s market taking place.

The trail had given way to a huge rock staircase that led down to the complex. Despite the wooden railings on either side, it was mildly daunting.

“The trail picks up again about fifty yards ahead and winds down to the harbor,” Mel said, sensing Jessie’s reticence. “We could go that way instead of the steps but it takes another twenty minutes and the view isn’t as nice.”

“No, this is fine,” Jessie assured her. “I just haven’t been keeping up with my Stairmaster routine and suddenly I’m regretting it.”

“Your legs only ouch at first,” Daughton said as he leapt in front of her and took the lead.

“Nothing like being shamed into action by a toddler,” Jessie said, trying to chuckle.

They started down the long flight of steps, Daughton first, followed by Mel, Jessie, and Kyle, with Teddy bringing up the rear. After a minute Daughton had gotten well ahead of them and Mel rushed down to catch up to him. Jessie could hear the guys talking behind her but couldn’t really catch what they were saying. And with the tricky steps, she was hesitant to turn around to find out.

About halfway down, she saw a college-age girl walking up the stairs, wearing only a bikini and flip-flops, with a beach bag flung over her shoulder. Her hair was still wet from the water and beads of sweat were trickling down her exposed, tan skin. Her curves were impressive and the swimsuit barely contained them. She looked like she might burst out at various places any second. Jessie tried not to stare as they passed and wondered if Kyle was doing the same.

“Damn fine ass on that one,” she heard Teddy say a few seconds later.

Jessie stiffened involuntarily, not just at the crudeness but because the girl would have almost certainly been close enough to hear it. She was tempted to turn around and give him a scowl when she heard Kyle’s voice.

“Right?” he added, snickering like a schoolboy.

She stopped in her tracks. As Kyle reached her, she grabbed his forearm. Teddy stopped too, a surprised look on his face.

“Go ahead, Teddy,” she said, putting a plastic smile on her face. “I just need my man for a sec.”

Teddy gave Kyle a knowing expression before moving on without comment. When she was sure he was out of earshot, she turned to her husband.

“I know he’s your friend from high school,” she whispered. “But do you think you could not act like you’re still there?”

“What?” he asked defensively.

“That girl probably heard Teddy and his leering tone. Then you go egging him on? Not cool.”

“It’s not that big a deal, Jess,” he insisted. “He was just making a little crack. Maybe she was flattered.”

“And maybe she was creeped out. Either way, I’d rather my husband not reinforce the ‘woman as sex object’ meme. Is that a reasonable request?”

“Jeez. Is this how you’re going to react every time a girl in a bathing suit walks by?”

“I don’t know, Kyle. Is that how you’re going to react?”

“You guys coming?” Teddy shouted up at them. The Carlisles were a good fifty steps farther down the stairs.

“Coming,” Kyle yelled back before lowering his voice. “That is, if you’re still cool with it.”

He moved on before she could reply, taking the steps two at a time. Jessie forced herself to take a long, slow breath before following him, hoping she could exhale her frustration along with the air in her lungs.

We’re not even fully moved in and he’s starting to turn into the kind of asshole I’ve tried to avoid my whole life.

Jessie tried to remind herself that one lame comment while under the influence of a high school friend didn’t mean her husband was suddenly becoming a Philistine. But she couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling that this was only the beginning.