Leigh, Megan, and I went to high school together, but Leigh and I have known one another since the third grade. "Yeah, she's called and left a ton of messages, which I haven’t returned because I promised everyone I wouldn’t talk to her. I guess Lilly called and reamed her ass after Trevor got to me. Lilly said at first she denied it was Trevor and called me a liar but has since figured out that it's true. I mean, she doesn't even know where he is and their accounts have been frozen. I do feel sorry for her. I really doubt she knew Trevor was trafficking guns for cartel members, you know?"
Leigh laughs a little grunt. "Well, who knows, but my guess? She didn’t see the signs because she didn't want to. She was enjoying living her high-life too much to see what was right in front of her face."
"Enough about Megan.” This is getting depressing and I don’t feel like talking about her. “What else is going on with you? You still volunteering?"
"Yeah, I'm still at the hospital a couple days a week and at the food bank every once in a while when they need someone to fill in. Preston doesn’t like me volunteering there, but he doesn’t mind a couple days at the hospital and you know I like being there with the patients. I get to see people I used to work with from time to time.”
Preston Briggs is an Executive Vice President of a software development company. They met at the hospital where Leigh was working when he was there for a business meeting. He makes a ton of money so about a year after they were married, he told her he didn’t want her working anymore. Leigh was an ICU nurse and loved her job. He’s ten years older than Leigh and a pretentious ass. Preston was as nice as he had to be before they got married, but since then he’s become a cold, controlling husband to Leigh and I hate that for her.
She’s never had a good man in her life. Her dad was a deadbeat, leaving Leigh, her mom, and sister high and dry before I met her in the third grade. Although it was surprising to me she chose as she did for a husband, she’s changed over the last four years becoming a mere ghost of herself. Preston doesn’t let her get together with her friends, work at a job she loves, or even be who she is. But she’s my friend and I have to support her choices.
“I’m glad you still get to be at the hospital, Leigh. I know you love it there.”
She gazes over my shoulder out my back windows. Pulling in a breath, she puts an almost genuine smile on her face. “Yeah. But I want to know about you. Reagan told me about this man in your life. I want to know all about him. It’s been a long time for you, Gabby. Is this a good thing?”
I can’t help the feeling that passes through me as I think of Jude. “Yeah, it’s a good thing.”
“She told me all about him. Other than him being hot, like really hot with a great voice, she says he’s from Colorado. Does he still have family there?”
I think back to a couple nights ago when Jude took me to dinner. We were on our way back to my house when he says, “I’ve gotta make a stop, get some stuff for tomorrow, do you mind?”
“Sure, where are we going?”
“I’m just going to swing by my condo, grab a jacket, and some more clothes.”
I sit up at attention.
“I’m going to get to see your condo?” I ask, enthusiastically.
He grins over at me at. “Sugar, don’t get excited. There’s not much to see.”
“I don’t care. I get to see where you live. We haven’t exactly had a normal start to … well … whatever it is that we have. Plus, I’ve been locked up like a hermit crab and I haven’t seen your home. I’m so excited.”
“Gabby, it’s not a home, it’s a condo. And not a great one at that. There’s no need to get all worked up about it.”
“Whatever, Jude. You can’t stop me from being happy.”
Shaking his head, realizing he isn’t going to convince me this is not the monumental occasion it is, he makes one more turn into a parking lot that houses a row of not great condos.
Hmm, he really wasn’t kidding.
He throws his truck in park and looking over at me. “I told you.”
I grin, turn to my door, and as I’m getting out, I call, “Let’s get moving, I want to see inside.”
I move around to meet him at the hood of his truck. Seeing as he isn’t going to be able to rain on my parade, he rolls his eyes, takes my hand and pulls me to the door of the condo on the end. He opens the rickety screen door sticking a key in the handle, swings open the door and reaches in to flip on some lights before he puts a hand to my back, pushing me in.
Hmm, again.
It’s very plain.
I haven’t given a lot of thought as to what Jude’s home is like since he’s always in my home and I like him there. He has a newish sofa—one that you only buy for comfort and not because it’s pretty, as in at all. Sitting next to it is an old-ish recliner in dark brown, again, made for comfort rather than design. Both of these pieces are strategically placed for maximum viewing capacity of a too-large-for-the-space flat screen television that sits on an old coffee table pushed against the interior wall. Through the TV-slash-comfort-room, I see the kitchen, and off to the left is a tiny hall that probably houses a bathroom. To the right, is a narrow set of stairs going up.
“Sit down. I’ll grab my stuff and we’ll get going.”
My eyebrows go up and I exclaim, “Are you kidding me? No way, I want to see it all.”
I move around him to head up the stairs without an invitation. I hear Jude letting out a big sigh making his way up behind me. I get to the top and turn left to find three doors. Feeling like I’m on a treasure hunt—the treasures being glimpses into Jude’s condo life—I head into one and flip on the light. It’s a small room with a boat load of boxes. Some of them are open with stuff strewn on the floor around them. Apparently, he was looking for something and when he found it left the rest of the stuff where it fell. I walk into the room farther and lean over to pick up a famed picture. In it is a much younger Jude with another Jude-like person.
I look up and him. “Who’s this?”
“My brother.”
“Your brother?” I look down at the picture while keeping on, “How many siblings do you have?”
“Just Breck.”
“Breck?” I ask, looking for more clarification on anything and everything.
“Brecken, my brother. He’s three years younger than me.”
“Does he live in Colorado?”
“Yeah, outside of the Springs. He’s married, has a son.”
“Really? Uncle Jude?” I grin big at him as he keeps shaking his head at me. “You’re closed tight, Jude Ortiz, why do I not know this?”
“What do you want to know, Gabby?” He comes close to me, takes the frame, lightly tosses it on the dingy carpet and takes my hand pulling me out of the room. He turns off the light and heads into another door. There’s a queen size bed—super messy with sheets, pillows and blankets scattered everywhere, an old nightstand, dresser, and more boxes stacked along the walls.
Well, now I have to know everything. This man who is living at my house and I’m having a lot of sex with is a closed book—sealed tight.