Love, Lies & The D.A. Read Online Free PDF Page A

really happy for you, Bobby. You deserve this.”
    “So do
you. Don’t let what that jerk did change you. You’ve always loved so deeply.”
    “Maybe
too deeply… maybe that’s why I didn’t see any of this coming.”
    “Don’t
talk that way. Look at it this way, better to find out now rather than ten
years from now.”
    “You’re
right about that. Thank you for calling me. I’ve genuinely smiled for the first
time in a long time since you called.”
    “Great.
Thank you for answering my call… after the fifth try.”
    “I’m
sorry. I needed some time alone.”
    “No
worries. I love you. Call me if you change your mind about beating him up.”
    “I
will. I love you back.”
    I’m so
happy for him. I am about to put my phone down when it vibrates again. I look
at the screen. It’s David Carlton.
    I
wonder what he forgot.
    “Mr.
Carlton.”
    “Ms.
McLean.”
    “Please
call me Jada. What can I do for you?”
    “And
you call me David. After my wife found out what happened, she scolded me for
not inviting you over for dinner.”
    “That’s
really not necessary. Tell her she can save herself the trouble.”
    “It’s
no trouble. We had a small dinner party planned for tonight anyway. We have
some friends from Peru visiting. It would be our pleasure to have you as our
guest.”
    I
suppose taking him up on his invitation is better than moping around alone and
thinking about my woes.
    “Okay,
since you put it that way, I’ll be happy to.”
    I
search for a pen in my purse, pull out my notepad, jot down his address, end
the call, and head right back out the house.
    I
should bring a bottle of wine or flowers or something. I return an hour later
with all of the above. My mother always taught me it was good manners to bring
something when invited to a dinner party. Better too much than not enough.
     
    I step
into the shower. I have no clue what I will wear. I did not pay too much attention
when I packed. Truthfully, I did not ever think I would be going to a dinner
party while in Lake Tahoe. David Carlton seems to know who I am. I suppose that
means he knows about the whole wedding debacle. I have avoided the news like a
plague. The last thing I need is to listen to all the gossip.
    Ten
minutes later, I search for something to wear.
    Herve
Leger – too sexy.
    Roberto
Cavalli – too colorful.
    Gucci
– too short.
    Finally,
I settle on a little Vicky Secret number. A coral short blouson dress—elegant
but sexy. Perfect. My Giuseppe Zanotti suede ankle cutout boots will go perfect
with it. I put my hair into a sleek ponytail to the back of my head. Then a
touch of makeup and I am ready to go.
    I
input the address into the GPS, and I realize the house is down the street. A
few doors down. Perhaps I should take a cool walk instead. I take a quick two-minute
walk down the road. What my GPS neglected to tell me, however, is that there is
a very long driveway to the house. Anyway, my shoes are comfortable, and it’s a
full moon tonight, so I appreciate the view and head in.
    Finally,
I arrive. It’s a beautiful log house, as most are in the area. However,
something about the gables and the architecture makes this one special. Before
I even have a chance to knock, Brad opens the door.
    “Hello,
Ms. McLean. I was heading up the stairs and saw your reflection through the
door.”
    “Please
call me Jada. How’s that cut on your head?”
    “It’s
fine. I needed five stitches, though.”
    “Well,
take that scar as a learning lesson.”
    He
laughs, turning a little red. “Let me walk you in.”
    I
follow him into an enormous great room with tall, vaulted, pine wood ceilings.
The views out the glass windows are very similar to mine.
    “Jada,”
David says with excitement. “Thank you so much for coming. Meet my wife,
Katharine.”
    “Everyone
calls me Kat,” she replies politely, shaking my hand then kissing me on my
cheek.
    “I
brought some wine, and this is also for you,” I say, handing her the