Calm Note Taking
Two weeks later, Amber and Jessica sat quietly together at a small, elegant café, waiting for their mother. They had chosen a table outside, nestled near a short, intricately scrolled wrought-iron fence that provided a stylish buffer between the diners and the bustling sidewalk. The café itself was a striking architectural mix of glass and black metal; the outdoor furniture consisted of delicate, light-blue wrought iron with scrolling that mimicked the fencing. The chairs were deceptively comfortable, fitted with thick, soft cushions that invited long, lingering conversations.
Amber sipped her all-natural, whole-fruit tea, observing her sister over the rim of her porcelain mug. She swallowed quietly, lowering the cup to the table as she cocked her head. "Is everything okay, Jessica? You seem a bit tense."
Jessica practically jumped in her seat. Amber raised a dark eyebrow and slowly leaned back, her expression shifting into a slight frown of concern.
Jessica paused, forcing herself to take a shallow breath in an attempt to steady her nerves. She was beyond tense; she was anxious. For the past fourteen days, she had been a prisoner of her own anticipation. She had not heard a single word from Anthony in all that time, and it felt as though her life had taken a hazardous shift over a steep cliff. The silence was distressing.
She knew, logically, that she still had Christopher as a reliable backup, but Anthony had become something else entirely. He had become a rock—a pillar. She couldn't quite articulate the shift, but she understood now that she fully needed him. That realization scared her, adding a fresh layer of vulnerability to her mounting anxiety.
Jessica was usually honest with herself about her motivations. She knew, deep down, that she no longer truly wanted Dan. For a man to deny her as many times as he had, her pride normally would have dictated that she walk away in a huff months ago. Pursuing him had simply become a principle—a point of conquest that needed to be maintained. But Anthony was different. If she lost him, she knew she would lose the one person who truly anchored her well-being.
She tried to project calm. She was no fool; she had known the man she called Anthony Shaw for a long time, and she had known him by many other names before that. None of those aliases offered her comfort now. She needed to know, for certain, that he was safe.
Exhaling evenly, she painted a practiced smile onto her lips. She took a small sip of her water and looked at her sister. "I think it's just the babies," she lied smoothly. She leaned in and whispered, "Don't tell Mommy, but I haven't been doing my Lamaze, and I've been ignoring the doula." She sighed and sat back. "Now I'm a bit anxious. I really want the birth to go off without any problems."
Amber listened attentively, her analytical mind watching her sister's micro-expressions. She nodded. "That's understandable. What is your doula's name? Is she any good?"
"Actually, she is perfection—her name is Vasilisa—I just don't like being told what to do," Jessica laughed, reaching into her designer bag to retrieve her phone. "Here is her contact info. Give her a call and see if she is available. You might not want to tell her I recommended her, though."
"Vasilisa? Is she Russian?" Amber asked, noting the name.
"I'm not sure. She definitely has an Eastern European accent, but..."
"Have you even spoken to the lady, Jessica?"
Jessica's eyes flickered as Amber's phone buzzed on the table. "Nope."
Amber picked up her device, her skepticism growing. "So you can't even tell me about her background or her techniques?"
Jessica laughed again, but her eyes drifted down to her own screen with a sudden, sharp intensity. "No. Ask Christopher; he's the one who hired her."
A heavy silence fell between them. As Amber began adding Vasilisa's information to her contacts, a movement caught her eye. She looked up and saw Jessica sitting frozen, her gaze fixed on her phone with a sense of urgency that Amber could practically feel vibrating across the table.
"Is... everything okay, Jessica?"
"Um... yes. I... yes. Yes, everything is fine." Jessica smiled broadly, her fingers tapping the screen a few times before she placed the phone face-down on the table. Amber didn't miss the slight sigh of relief her sister tried to swallow.
Jessica's face suddenly brightened as she looked over Amber's shoulder. "Mommy is here."
She stood from her chair with a fluid grace that belied the fact that she was six months pregnant. She opened her arms as Angelica Lance walked into the café with a bold confidence that commanded the room. Necks craned to follow her movement, their eyes feasting on her expensive ensemble—a tailor-made skirt suit designed to perfectly complement the Botswana-style agate earrings Amber and Dan had gifted her. Angelica had taken those earrings to her seamstress with a direct order to create an entire wardrobe around them. Today, the result was an undeniable win.
"Oh, my beautiful girl! You look so wonderful," Angelica exclaimed.
Amber stood smoothly and embraced her mother, and the three women sat down to begin what appeared to be an amiable lunch.
Yet, as the appetizers arrived, Jessica's mind remained miles away. The text she had received via her encrypted messaging app had her heart pounding. It was from Anthony. He told her a package would be arriving at the café. He told her he missed her. But most importantly, he told her she would need to resolve things soon, because their lives were about to change in a very big way.
Her pulse raced. Had something happened to him? Had her invincible rock been compromised, and was she the cause of it? Something fundamental shifted within Jessica in that moment. For the first time, she wondered if she should abandon her obsessions and simply accept what was being offered to her freely—a life with Anthony, without the stress of the Lance legacy or the stipulation of Dan Trace.
When she spotted an unassuming man walking toward their table, she knew exactly who he was. She smiled warmly and stood. "Finally, my package."
Angelica and Amber both followed her gaze, watching what they assumed was a standard courier approach. Amber's brow furrowed, but she remained silent.
"Ms. Jessica Lance?"
"Yes."
"Please sign here, ma'am."
The interaction was, on the surface, the most mundane thing Amber had seen all day. Yet, her stomach squirmed with a deep, intuitive apprehension. Something was wrong. Her instincts were flaring like a red flag in a storm. She made extensive mental notes of the courier's appearance, the timing, and Jessica's reaction, deciding right then that she would be speaking to Samuel before the sun went down.