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Janet looked at me.

"When did you hire her?" she asked him, her voice tight.

Sam paused. "She was walking past the house while I was working on my car a while ago. Said she needed work. I gave her some. Same as I did for a couple other neighbors. You know I help when I can."

I frowned. Fucking do-gooder. This was his fault.

Janet nodded slowly like it suddenly made sense.

Sam’s tone shifted. “Why are you interrogating me?”

She stumbled over her words. “I—I was just surprised. That’s all. Never mind.”

She hung up without another word.

I stared at her. “You believe him?”

She gave a half-smile. “Your wife is not his type, so that’s not something we have to worry about.”

“Excuse me?” What the fuck did she mean my wife wasn’t his type? If Janet was his type, he would have no problem being attracted to Zane. She was young, pretty—she had the things Black guys liked.

Janet stepped forward, and I knew she was about to toe the line I kept telling her not to cross. I would never leave Zane for her. I wasn’t stupid.

“Zane’s probably off pouting, trying to get your attention. You ignored her too long. She’ll be back. But if she doesn’t—” Her eyes dropped to my chest, then lower. “—then I guess I get to keep you all to myself.”

Something inside me snapped.

I shoved her. Hard.

"That’s my wife you’re talking about."

She stumbled back, but the smile never left her face. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Then she dropped to her knees in front of me like she’d been waiting for that moment all night.

“Accept my apology?” she pouted up at me, her big blue eyes exuding fake innocence.

Her hands moved quickly as she undid my belt and pants. My mind was occupied with other things though.

This was why I never let Zane go anywhere.

Janet distracting me by opening her mouth and taking what I gave her, without words, and right now, that’s exactly what I needed—control.

Something I hadn’t had since Monday.

My thoughts blurred as I stared down at the top of her head.

Zane was different than Janet in more ways than one.

Beautiful, but naïve. And she never quite fit into the mold my parents wanted for me. They didn’t like her background. Thought she wasn’t cultured enough. And truthfully, they were right.

Though her parents were lawyers and she came from some money, they weren’t wealthy—and they were social justice warriors. They never liked me either.

Zane was eager to please me back when I met her. She ignored her parents when they told her not to marry me. She was willing to change her wayward ways. She wanted to be enough for me, and I made sure she believed she never would be—unless she had me.

But Janet? She’d always been wild. I met her when I was a senior in high school. She was a freshman, mouthy, and ready for everything the world told her not to want. I took her virginityin the back of my father’s car, and we were together that entire summer.

Then I went to college. We lost touch.