Anne rose hastily from the sofa. “I guess I’ll be leaving, Jessa. Thank you for listening to me.”
Jessa shot her mischievous grin on their way out the front door. “Keep your ears open, Anne. I’m about to give the grapevine a good shake.”
Connor’s cell phone buzzed insistently inside her bag as she slid behind the wheel of her car. Seeing Terry’s number on the display, she held her breath before ignoring the call. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to put Will’s appearance and Anne’s information together to form a picture of how ugly her divorce was about to get. No doubt, Terry would advise against trying to talk to Will but Jessa needed to get a few things off her chest.
Chapter Seventeen
Jessa hid her amusement at the valet’s obvious perusal of her outfit. She didn’t have to be told that her short black skirt, jacquard corset top and combat boots weren’t what he usually saw around the club. Jessa wasn’t foolish enough to believe the black cashmere hoodie she’d casually pulled on did anything to hide her unusual attire. If anything, the soft clingy fabric made her boobs look even larger.
The etched glass doors swung open and Jessa stalked inside, chin notched up and spine so straight she thought it’d snap. A prim hostess standing idly in front of the restaurant blinked before containing the round O of her surprise and regaining her composure. Jessa ignored her and went straight to the courtesy desk.
An elderly woman in a neat pastel pantsuit looked up from the computer and offered an icy stare. “Can I help you, madam?”
Jessa didn’t miss the hitch in her voice. No doubt the woman meant madam as in French and expensive. “Yes, you may. My husband, Will Kincaid, is staying here. I’d like you to let him know Jessa is waiting for him in the lounge and would like to speak with him immediately.”
“Certainly.”
The ice in the prim manager’s eyes receded only long enough for Jessa to turn around and walk ten steps to where the lounge opened up to a stunning view of the golf course. Jessa could feel the glacial glare on her back the whole way. But she was past caring what these asinine people thought about her. It was time to say an official goodbye to the old Jessa Kincaid. She was Connor’s Jessa now.
Jessa settled herself on a stiff settee where she could watch the entrance. A massive potted banana plant flanked her one side and a table spread with light fare sat on the other. She sighed and crossed her legs, foot bouncing impatiently. Now that she’d decided to do this, she was ready to get it over with.
A paunchy man sporting thin gray hair and a leering expression waggled his bushy eyebrows suggestively from across the room. Jessa shot him a gamine grin just to watch his wife elbow him in the ribs. The couple was quickly forgotten when Jessa spotted the desk manager slinking into the lounge, headed in the opposite direction. Was Will already in the lounge?
Jessa stood and slowly eased around the waxy green leaves of the banana plant. The manager’s cheerful pastel pantsuit blended with the bawdy golfing attire worn by most of the club members. When Jessa finally saw her, she ducked back behind the plant.
Will was there. He was with Chase and Kitty. The three of them appeared to be having an intense conversation. Jessa could only imagine what Kitty would have to say to Will after Alex and Connor’s lethal put down. Anne hadn’t been kidding about Kitty liking the last word. In this case, it was more like an epitaph.
Jessa sank back onto the settee, heart pounding. She needed to find out what Kitty had told Will. She had to know what he already knew before she tried to spring anything else. The time for offense was slipping away. She needed damage control.
Kitty’s willowy frame sashayed into view, headed toward the ladies room. Jessa made a rash, split second decision and followed.
The vaulted ceilings and marble floors made the room seem much larger than necessary. Fountains, huge floral arrangements, and natural light were supposed to make it pleasant and welcoming. Jessa had always found it ridiculously pretentious. It was a ladies bathroom, not a day spa.
Kitty was perched on a silk-cushioned gilt stool before the mirror. Her cosmetics were neatly lined up on the marble-topped counter before her. Jessa met her ice blue eyes in the mirror. There was no welcome in Kitty’s cool gaze.
“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.”
Jessa didn’t miss the pun in her words. “What did you tell him, Kitty?”
She shrugged an elegant shoulder. “Only the truth.”
“That you begged like a whore in front of witnesses for a stranger to fuck you like a bitch in heat?”
Kitty’s face briefly contorted with rage before sliding back into her practiced mask of civility. “Is that what it seemed, Jessa darling? Perhaps you were too drunk to remember what happened. I mentioned that to your doting husband, you know. I can certainly tell you he was concerned at the downward spiral you’re obviously experiencing.”