Free Identity Thief by JP Bloch

she said.
    “And does Sequoia have a last name?”
    “Falcon, of course.” She laughed again. “Just kidding. I’m Sequoia Vargas.”
    Sportingly, she held out her hand for me to shake. I properly shook it.
    “So, Jesse, where is home?”
    Good question. Now all I needed to do was invent an answer. “I was house hunting when—you know.”
    “But where were you staying?”
    “With . . . uh, my mother.” Talk about a mood breaker.
    But Sequoia just smiled; she had a beautiful smile. “Am I right in guessing that Mom is not Miss Congeniality?”
    I rolled up my shirtsleeves; it was warm in the hospital, but Mom left me a long-sleeve shirt. “Let’s just say getting better is going to be a challenge living with my mother.”
    “Don’t you at least need to get your clothes? Your car?” She felt my forehead to make sure I didn’t have a fever.
    “No wheels at the moment. And as for my clothes, my mom destroyed them. That’s one of the reasons I went to the bank. We had a fight about . . . I guess you might as well know.” I sat down on the hard, lumpy hospital bed, gesturing for her to sit next to me. I clasped her hand and mustered up the most sincere expression I could. “Sequoia, I have a seven-year-old son, Frankie”—I didn’t want to give her any name that could lead to my real identity—“And I’m separated from my wife. I really am. Do you believe me?”
    “I probably shouldn’t. But yes, I believe you, Jesse.”
    I turned away, as if in private sorrow. “My mother thinks my soon-to-be ex-wife should have custody of my child. I want custody myself. My wife is . . . I guess I have to say it. She’s a heroin addict.”
    “Oh my God.” Sequoia squeezed my hand in sympathy.
    “I’ve told this to my mother a million times, but she doesn’t believe me. My wife has her wrapped around her little finger. My mother’s very, very traditional. She believes that children belong with their mother, period.”
    “I think that’s very unfair. A child belongs with the best parent.” She tenderly rubbed my chest. “By the way, what kind of doctor are you, Jesse? If it’s okay to ask.”
    “That’s perfectly all right. I only recently finished my PhD in psychology. I’ve been job searching. In fact, I missed three interviews because of everything that happened.”
    Pain pills did little to keep me from getting physically aroused. And for some reason, all the lies I was telling were making me harder and harder. Then, out of nowhere, we fell into a kiss, with that dizzy feeling that makes it seem there is no other choice. It was easily the best kiss I’d ever had. I felt weak and strong at the same time as we made out on the hospital bed. It seemed that my ride home came with a bonus prize.
    Sequoia sat up on the bed, combing her hair out of her face with her fingers. “I have a plan,” she whispered. “You come home with me. No strings, no expectations. We get you a suit or two for a job. If we end up hating each other’s guts, you can look for a new place at the end of the month. Hopefully, you’ll have a job by then.”
    Catching my breath, I feigned deep consideration. “Okay, Sequoia. Sure.” I don’t know what I would’ve done had she not made this offer, but I tried to make it seem like I was weighing a dozen different options.
    “Oh, Jesse, I don’t even have the words. To say I feel wonderfully happy sounds corny, and yet . . . ” She put her head to my heart as I stroked her long hair.
    Sequoia didn’t deserve to be hurt, and I thought about telling her the truth right then and there. Only what if she was some undercover cop? Or at least went to the cops after hearing what I did? After all, Sequoia did seem so very, very nice. Like she’d never even had a sip of wine. Like it never occurred to her that people didn’t always tell the truth. All my life I’d let my inner good guy rule, and now that I finally met a nice girl, my inner bad guy was in charge. I guess