The Best Deception (New Edition) Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Part Two

  Chapter 29 (Jacob)

  Chapter 30 (Leah)

  Chapter 31 (Jacob)

  Chapter 32 (Leah)

  Chapter 33 (Jacob)

  Chapter 34 (Leah)

  Chapter 35 (Jacob)

  Chapter 36 (Leah)

  Chapter 37 (Jacob)

  Chapter 38 (Leah)

  Chapter 39 (Jacob)

  Chapter 40 (Leah)

  Chapter 41 (Jacob)

  Chapter 42 (Leah)

  Chapter 43 (Jacob)

  Chapter 44 (Leah)

  Chapter 45 (Jacob)

  Chapter 46 (Leah)

  Chapter 47 (Jacob)

  Chapter 48 (Leah)

  Chapter 49 (Jacob)

  Chapter 50 (Leah)

  Chapter 51 (Jacob)

  Chapter 52 (Leah)

  Chapter 53 (Jacob)

  Chapter 54 (Leah)

  Epilogue (Jacob)

  Sneek Peek

  Author Page

  Acknowledgments

  THE BEST DECEPTION

  Ashley Jade

  The Best Deception

  Ashley Jade

  COPYRIGHT

  First published in USA, August 2015

  Copyright © Ashley Jade

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be circulated in writing of any publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, or events is purely coincidence.

  This book has been produced for the Amazon Kindle and is distributed by Amazon Direct Publishing.

  ** Warning**

  This series is not suitable for readers under 18.

  Chapter 1

  “I have an appointment with a new client tonight, so I won't be home for dinner. I left a casserole for you in the fridge, though. All you have to do is heat it up. Also, can you please make sure you study for your next English test. You're better than a C-minus, Danny—and you know it. Oh, and before I forget, I made an appointment for your yearly physical for tomorrow—make sure you're around this time so I can take you,” I said, pouring myself a cup of coffee.

  “Got it, Leah. Stop riding my ass all the time, would ya.” Danny replied. He put a spoonful of cereal in his mouth. “Geez, can't you get a boyfriend or something?”

  I turned around to face him and put my hands on my hips.

  Danny laughed. “Okay fine. I'm sorry. I love you, sis, but you're driving me crazy. I'm probably gonna be your next client.”

  “Danny, you know I only do it because I care. You're all I have in this world. I'm not trying to micro-manage your life. I'm just trying to take care of you. You just turned 15. You're still a kid. A kid that's my responsibility and I wouldn't have it any other way.”

  The only person I love in this world is this goofy, awkward teenager sitting right across from me. Even when he's being a royal pain in my ass. We may be eleven years apart, but we've been through the gauntlet together and then some.

  “Cut that mushy shit out. I already told you I loved you, sis. Oh, and just so you know, I'm not a kid anymore. Trust me. The chick I let suck—" he started to say, before I cut him off.

  “Danny Adams. Number one—Don't you dare finish that sentence. Number two—watch your language. Number three—I really hope you're using protection. I left you a whole bunch of condoms in your room. You know you can still catch and pass things around from oral sex. In fact, it’s—"

  “Alright. Jesus. Sorry I ever said anything. I was just trying to prove a point. Stop being so clinical about everything. I do not want to have this conversation with you, ever. I'm late for school. Gotta go. Bye."

  He shot me a look of disgust before getting up from the table and walking out the front door.

  I took a deep breath. Honestly, I didn't really want to have that conversation with him either, but he started it. I didn't even think he was having sex yet. Or at least I sure hoped he wasn't. Hopefully, it doesn't go any further than what he's doing now—as gross as that may be. I took another sip of my coffee. Shit, I have to check my email. Hopefully, the client I have tonight won't decide to cancel after all. With the money he's offering to pay me, I wouldn't even need to have any other clients for awhile. Maybe, I can even get around to paying off some of my student loans.

  Sighing, I flipped open my laptop. One new email was waiting for a response.

  Hello,

  I hope you are in agreement with the contract I sent over. I will be bringing another copy of it with me tonight. We can go over it more in depth if you wish. Although you should have read it in depth already. There are no negotiations. I do expect you to be there at exactly 6:05pm. Not a moment later. Have a good day, Doctor.

  -J. Sand

  Yeah, I was now beginning to understand why no other psychiatrist wanted to work with him. This man put my micro managing with Danny to shame. Talk about anal retentive. The private pay money he's shelling out will be worth it, though. Besides, it's only twice a week. Monday's and Friday's. Two-hour sessions. $2,000 per session, for three months.

  Plus, I'd be receiving an undisclosed sign-on bonus if I agreed to another 3-month term with him.

  I'd be an idiot to turn it down. I tapped my fingers on the keyboard. I was tempted to reply that I would be there at 6:07pm just to ruffle his feathers, but that wouldn't be very professional of me. I was supposed to be helping this client, not looking for ways to instigate him. It's probably just best that I don't reply. Taking another deep breath, I clicked the icon on the e-mail, informing him that I had in fact read his e-mail.

  I hate the thought of being one of those Doctors who's a sellout and only in it for the money. However, with my dwindling bank account, student loans, and my teenage brother who was starting to eat us out of house and home, I really didn't have any other options left.

  The only part of the contract that I didn't like was the part that outlined that he was to be my only client, for the duration of the term. That was strange.

  I knew Mr. Control Freak said, no negotiations, but I was going to make it a point to negotiate that alright. I mean, on paper it sounded like a sweet gig. It was steady money, and the hours were unheard of. It would give me more time to take care of things around the house, and tutor Danny, and keep an eye on him. The thought of only having one client though? That didn't sit well with me. The money was good, but not that good.

  Something was off, and lucky for me, it was my job to figure out exactly what that was.r />
  I filled my day with mindless tasks—grocery shopping and laundry. I was still folding laundry when I heard Danny walk in the door.

  Crap, that meant it had to be past 4:30 now. My dumpy little office was a half hour drive away. I still hadn't even showered yet.

  “I thought you said you weren't going to be home,” Danny said, looking confused.

  “I'm late. Just heat up dinner if you're hungry. I have to jump in the shower,” I yelled as I made my way upstairs.

  I showered as quickly as possible, ran to my bedroom, and opened my closet. Hmm, what does one wear to a first time meeting with a millionaire control freak client? I wasn't looking to dress to impress, but I wanted to at least look professional and capable.

  Truth be told, he was my first and only private client since I graduated. I knew the situation was out of my league, but I couldn't turn his offer down, without at least trying.

  I decided on a black office skirt, dark blue button up top, and a black blazer, along with my work pumps. I felt like a child trying to play dress up, but at least it was professional. I tied my sopping wet hair in a chignon and did a quick once-over in the mirror. I applied some chap-stick and pinched my cheeks. I definitely wasn't putting on makeup, that wasn't very practical. I was as ready as I was ever going to be.

  I jumped in my car and headed out the door.

  I made it through rush hour traffic, only uttering three swear words. I parked and checked the time. 6:03pm, shit.

  I scrambled out of my car and made it up the dingy stairway. He'll probably renege on the offer once he sees my pitiful office space. A very small, very old, mom and pop shop turned office. In one of the worst parts of town. Drug dealers, muggers, and prostitutes lined the streets at night. I hated it. It was all I could afford, though. I certainty couldn't bring mentally ill clients back to my own house with Danny there. Mr. Control Freak was just going to have to deal with it—I thought to myself as I sprinted up the 3 flights of steep stairs. I was suddenly grateful that I had managed to get in my morning jog earlier.

  As I was on the second to last step I decided to check my watch again. 6:06pm, dammit. I looked around and didn't notice anyone waiting outside the door. So, he was late as well, obviously. Not that I should be letting him harbor any kind of control over me in the first place.

  I was the psychiatrist. He was my client, not the other way around.

  I unlocked the creaky door and made my way in. I had a seat in the big office chair facing the second-hand couch. Although to be honest, it looked more like a third hand, maybe fourth hand couch.

  I checked the time again. 6:11pm. Hmm, Mr. Control Freak is very late—I thought while smiling; before my thoughts were interrupted.

  “I said 6:05pm. Not 6:06pm. See that it doesn't happen again,” a deep, smooth voice called out. I lifted my head and tried not to let my mouth drop open.

  Mr. Control Freak was nothing like I had pictured him to be.

  Besides his tall and buff physique—the first thing I noticed were his piercing green eyes, which complimented his dark hair. The other thing I noticed—was that he was dressed in an almost too tight, black t-shirt and jeans. Which only made his muscles even more pronounced. And although he was definitely a man, there was a subtle hint of boyish charm about him.

  Certainly nothing like what I was expecting. That's for damn sure.

  He had to be around my age, give or take. How does one become a successful millionaire at 26? Unless he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Yup, that's probably it. This was just an over-privileged, good looking guy with a major attitude problem.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. This client was going to be so much easier to handle now. Nothing like what I was fearing. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

  “Something amusing, Dr. Adams?” he mumbled as he walked into the room.

  “Nope. I like my client's to call me Leah though. I feel that it helps the therapeutic relationship."

  I stood up and stuck out my hand to greet him.

  “I'll just stick to Dr. Adams...for now,” he replied, ignoring my hand and taking a seat on the couch. Prick.

  I took a seat on the chair, got out my pen and pad, and crossed my legs mindlessly. His eyes scanned my legs for a second too long before he spoke. “Did you look over the contract?”

  “Yes. I did,” I answered, trying not to stare directly into his deep green eyes.

  Leah, you are the professional, start acting like it dammit—and start wearing some pants while you're at it.

  He sat up. “I see. So you're in agreement with everything then? I noticed you haven't faxed over a signed copy. Why is that?”

  I took a deep breath. “I'm not in agreement with the part that states I'm not allowed to have any other clients. To be honest, I think it's a little unorthodox. It doesn't set a positive precedent for our therapeutic relationship either.”

  The corners of his lips curled into a smirk. “It's non-negotiable. I need to know that you are mine. Therapeutically of course.” He cleared his throat. “I don't like to share. I'm afraid that you won't be able to concentrate on me and my...issues if you see other clients. I need your complete undivided attention.”

  Yup. Control freak indeed. It would almost be creepy if he wasn't so damn attractive.

  As much as I don't like it, it’s my only source of income right now—I reasoned with myself.

  Besides, It's only for three months. How bad could it be?

  “Fine. However, if we end up extending the term for another three months. I will not be agreeing to that stipulation, just so you know. With that said, why don't we begin?"

  I had the sudden impulse to slap him upside the head when he smirked at me again.

  “Sure. After you sign of course,” he said, handing me the papers.

  Since I had already read them before hand, I hastily scribbled my name and reached over for my medical stamp. Unfortunately, the movement made the stack of papers fall on the floor. I cursed under my breath and prepared to bend over to pick them up, but was stopped in my tracks.

  “Here you go, Dr. Adams.”

  There he was, knelt down before me, the hint of a smug grin on his face. His hand lightly brushed against my leg as he handed me back the papers. I fought the flush in my cheeks with the intrusiveness of the gesture.

  He was just trying to be helpful. Wear some damn pants next time—I scolded myself as he got back up.

  I handed them back to him. “Actually, these would be your copy.”

  “Ah yes. You sure you don't want to look them over again?”

  “Nope. I've already read everything beforehand."

  “Okay then. Where would you like to begin?”

  “Well, where would you like to start, and what would you like me to call you? I don't have any information about you. I don't even know your birthday, your age, what you do for a living—” I started, before he cut me off.

  “Jacob. You can call me Jacob, Dr. Adams. I'm a CEO of an internet software company. I'm sure you've heard of it. It's quite prestigious with both medical and law industries. However, I do own other companies that are involved and deal with all sorts of different security software,” he replied, with a twinkle in his eyes.

  Sand Corp. Yup. That made sense now. I've used that software too many times to count during medical school. I nodded my head, hoping he would continue.

  “I turned 30 last January,” he said. “Does that answer all of your questions now?”

  “Okay, so what are your issues? Why exactly do you need psychiatric help?” I asked, before realizing that I was now coming across as the rude one.

  He stroked his chin and smiled. “Well...usually I buy a woman a drink first before I get into all of that.”

  He glanced down at my legs again. I felt myself blush briefly before I mentally kicked myself in the head. I needed to set some boundaries, right here, right now.

  “Well, there will be no drinking between us or any of that. I'm technically your
doctor now. So let's try and keep it professional.”

  He appeared amused by my statement. “Well, this is therapy, right? The lines can get blurred sometimes, I'm sure. How am I supposed to open up to you if you don't let me?”

  Shit, he had a point. Well, sort of.

  “There are limits, but in a way, you're right. So please continue. I'm sorry I interrupted.”

  “I want to add something else to the contract.”

  “Sorry, but it's already been signed, remember? That said, I may be able to make an allowance, depending on what it is."

  “I want you to wear skirts for every session from now on,” he said, gazing at my legs again.

  What the hell?

  Obviously, he heard nothing about my statement regarding professional boundaries.

  “Absolutely not. What part of professional don't you understand?” I asked, raising my voice. Ignoring the fact that I wasn't exactly being professional myself now.

  He stood up from the couch and started walking toward the door.

  Whatever, let him walk right out that door. If he couldn't respect my ethics and boundaries, then it would be for the best.

  I looked at my watch. “We still have another hour left.”

  “I'm aware. However, I look forward to catching up with you on Friday. Today was just a formality. I just wanted to meet with you and see if we have the type of connection that I'm looking for—for this type of relationship. So far, I'd say yes."

  “We haven't even gone over any of your issues,” I stammered. “We've covered no ground today. Do you really think it's a good idea to leave now?”

  “Yes.”

  I shrugged and waved a hand in the direction of the door. “Fine. I'll see you on Friday then.”

  “It's a date then. I look forward to it, Dr. Adams,” he responded, smirking.

  “No. No dates. That isn't professional. This is therapy. Not a date, at all!” I screamed, not even caring how irate I sounded.

  “You really should have read the contract, Leah,” he said, closing the door behind him.

  Chapter 2