Seeking a fresh start, Mark Jamison moves to Seattle, Washington. He left his old life behind to find another wife--a perfect family-a ready-made family. But when his past catches up to him, will his future wife, Pam, believe any of it?
"Did you get my papers this morning?" I asked Gina as she hovered over me. Gina has this authoritative aura about her. I hadn't been tripped up by a woman before—but her presence tied my tongue in knots.
"I did. Thanks for that ..."
"What is it?" I swallowed hard.
Gina's smile had turned to a cold stare. "Can you come to my office for a minute?"
"Is something wrong?" My heart began to thump my chest and anxiety reared its ugly head, turning my fingers cold to the touch. This cold finger thing happened when my grandmother took me to the woodshed to whip my ass for stealing cookies. That was the feeling Gina gave me.
"We'll talk." Gina turned her back and strutted back to her office. Her office had a tinted large bay window. All other offices had small rectangle-shaped windows, like prison cells.
What the hell does this chick want? Did I not change all the names on the resume and social security card? I'd bought enough documents on the dark web, not to make stupid mistakes. Could this be my first mistake? The first time I'm found out? I closed out the files I'd been working on and hit a button, and the screen went black. I rolled up my sleeves as heat runs the length of my spine.
I straightened my tie and knocked on the door.
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"Come in," Gina said, scarfing down a donut and coffee.
"You wanted to see me?" Gina's red dress fit her body well, and her marble desk had a shine, which told me she nagged the janitors to spit-shine her office. An alpha personality with a splash of narcissism pulled me into her spell.
"Have a seat," Gina said, pointing to the chair opposite side her desk.
I lowered my body as if I were a schoolchild about to be scolded for coloring the walls. I'd been in trouble at school my entire life In the fifth grade, I couldn't stop sticking gum in Shannon's hair. Looking back, I just wanted to stay in detention to catch glances of Ms. Franklin. She was 23, and gorgeous as hell. I'd drop a pencil here and there to catch a glimpse of her braless breasts.
"Well?" I leaned forward with my hands on my knees. "What is it?"
"You're going to ask her to marry you, aren't you?"
"Excuse me?" I said, almost choking on my tongue.
"Marry Pam. You're going to marry her, right?"
"I'm thinking about it," I lied. I had to be sure she was truly the one. I was done with killing families, and I was tired of running. I wanted to settle down and live a comfortable life with a wife beyond my wildest dreams.
"Just don't be a creep," she said. "Her last husband beat her."
"She told me." Why do you think I'm still with her? I thought. If I couldn't control a woman, I had no use for them.
