Tell No Lies by Julie Compton Read Free Book Online Page A

his eyelids burned from the lack of deep sleep. He suddenly wished Claire were there in the shower with him. He would make slow love to her standing up against the cold, wet tiles, and then maybe any suspicions she had would dissipate in the steam or make their way with the water down the drain. Would that be enough? Was the nervous weight in the bottom of his stomach merely the manifestation of his fear that Claire would find out, or was it something else? He briefly considered that he might be afraid to tell Jenny that it didn't mean anything because maybe it did, but then he quickly dismissed this thought. They were just friends; they would always be just friends. He was merely a typical, red-blooded male who had, just once, failed to rein in his normal urges, wasn't he?
 
    He thought back to the night he and Jenny had first met. He remembered how it had taken him a while to realize she could flirt with him and not mean anything by it. He'd been at Newman only about a year at the time. He remembered it vividly because he'd spent the day away from the city, touring the remains of a blown-up farmhouse for a product liability case he'd been working on. By the time he'd arrived back at his office, around quarter to six, he was exhausted and behind on everything else. After calling Claire to tell her he'd be late, he'd propped his feet up on his desk, shut his eyes, and folded his arms across his chest. He told himself that after a quick nap he'd be able to get some work done. He had almost dozed off when he heard a steady rain begin. The water drops sounded like the fast, nervous tapping of a hundred fingertips on his window.
    "Hypnotic, isn't it?"
    The woman's voice startled him. He turned his chair around to see Jenny standing in his doorway. He knew a new associate had been hired in Corporate, and he'd heard talk that she was a looker, but the term didn't do her justice. She was tall, lean, built. She wore a stylish black suit like something from the pages of a magazine, not like the shapeless suits worn by many of the other women lawyers he knew. Her skirt was slightly shorter than what he was used to seeing; her legs were taut and dark even beneath her pantyhose. The neckline of her off-white blouse followed the same V-shape of her jacket, and he didn't stop his eyes from briefly following it down to the point. Her black hair was smooth, and it shimmered in the fluorescent light.
    "Hi, uh . . ." Jack hesitated, trying to remember her name.
    "Jennifer Dodson. Jenny's fine." She leaned back into the hallway and pointed to the nameplate on the wall outside of his office. "And you're Jack Hilliard." He nodded. "Nice to meet you, Mister Hilliard," she said, walking across his office and extending her hand. He shook it, then they stared at each other across Jack's desk. He searched his brain for something intelligent to say. "I'm sorry, did I interrupt you?" she said finally, breaking the silence.
 
    "No, no, of course not," he managed. He heard the rain coming down even harder and he glanced at the clock. It was now almost seven thirty. Despite his good intentions, he hadn't touched a file on his desk and knew at this point he probably wouldn't. "I was just about to go to the lunchroom to pour myself a cup of coffee. Would you like to join me?"
    She tilted her head and smiled. They both knew the only thing he'd been about to do was fall asleep. "Sure, I'd like that."
    They'd spent the next hour and a half in the lunchroom, leaning against the counter in front of the coffeepot, talking. Not since Claire had Jack met anyone who put him so at ease. When he asked how she'd ended up at Newman, Jenny explained that she'd gone to law school at Yale and had spent a year practicing in New York before returning to St. Louis.
    Jack raised his eyebrows. "New York to St. Louis?"
    She shrugged. "I grew up here. I always intended to come back." Jack looked at her without responding, and she smiled. "Is that hard for you to