Champagne Life (16 page)

He opened up the microwave and grabbed the hotdogs. He ate one bare, but dressed the other two with buns, mustard, ketchup and relish.

He skipped the onions.

With both hotdogs in hand, he grabbed his keys and dashed out the door.

“I am so glad you could come on such a short notice,” Mrs. Herjavec said when she opened the front door. House was an understatement. Her spot was more like a palace.

She took a step back and opened the door wider, allowing him to enter. He hesitated, stepping onto the flawlessly polished marble floor. The first thing he spotted was a gigantic crystal chandelier hanging in the hallway. She had that tiny furniture that looked like it was for decoration as opposed to function. Set farther back down the foyer was a large staircase that curved around as it led to the top floor.

“Would you like something to drink? I have wine, vodka, juice.”

“Um—”

“Wait. Let me guess,” she said. “I seem to remember Berti mentioning you are from the islands. You grew up in Jamaica, right?”

“Bahamas,” he corrected.

“Ahhh, the Bahamas. Berti and I try to visit the Turks and Caicos islands every chance we get. It's beautiful there. Is that where you're from? You barely have an accent.”

“I was born and raised in Grand Bahama. I spent a lot of time in the States, which might explain the no-accent thing.”

“Hmmmm. Don't think we've ever been to Grand Bahama. I bet it's beautiful, though.”

“Yeah,” DeShaun agreed. “I lived there for twenty-one years before moving to the States for good.”

“You must drink Sands and Kalik beer then.”

“You've heard of Kalik?” he asked, amazed. “Not too many people who aren't from the islands ever heard of it.”

“When Berti and I travel, we like to pick up items native to the countries we visit. Berti was so fascinated with the taste of Kalik that we have it specially ordered and transported here. We also
have a case of Red Stripe from a trip to Jamaica two months ago. Would you like a Kalik, DeShaun?”

“Sure, thanks.”

“We only have Gold. Is that okay?”

“Even better.”

Mrs. Herjavec headed toward the kitchen and he followed. Her platform heels clicked against the marble. He glanced down at her backside. This was the first time he had seen her from behind this close. Mrs. Herjavec wasn't skinny and frail like most of the other wives in her circle. While she did have a small waist, her thighs and backside clung for dear life to the white pants she wore, so much so, he could see that she hadn't bothered to put on any underwear this morning when she got dressed. Her white halter top hugged her breasts perfectly and accentuated her above average-sized chest.

“Here you go.” She smiled as she handed him a beer.

He took it from her hand, feeling weird that she was serving him and not the other way around.

She kicked off her bone-colored heels and took a seat at the island counter in the kitchen. She patted the cushioned covered stool next to her. “Relax. Have a seat.”

He walked over and sat across from her, instead.

She was watching him, studying his every move. “Is the beer good? I've never tried the stuff. Berti loves it.”

“You're not drinking?” He tried not to sound too surprised.

“Maybe a taste.”

He took another sip of beer before realizing she was waiting to try
his
beer. “Oh, you want to try this one?”

“If you don't mind. I don't really want a whole bottle.”

He shrugged. “If you don't mind, I don't.” He slid the beer over to her.

She wrapped her lips around the neck and took a small sip. “Not bad.” She slid the bottle back over to him.

“Told you.”

“I normally don't drink at home. The only reason I drink when I'm out is because these parties and functions bore me to tears.”

“Really?” This revelation shocked him. “You always look like you're having a good time.”

“That's because I'm drunk. If it wasn't for the wine, I don't know what I'd do. I can't believe how boring people who come from money are. It's ridiculous. All they want to talk is business and about how much money they can make.”

DeShaun took another swig of beer. “Do you want to give me some information about the party so I know what I need in terms of service?”

She frowned. “Please, don't tell me you're in a hurry. You just got here.”

He thought about Naomi. He hadn't seen her since this morning. He would have called home, but the house phone was still out. “I'm not in a hurry. I assumed you'd want to get down to business.”

She looked down. Her dark hair tumbled around her face but he could still see her tanned cheeks turning crimson.

“Oh, no, I didn't mean that kind of business,” he said. “I only meant—”

She laughed nervously. “I know. It just sounded weird the way you put it.”

“Sorry.”

“Don't be sorry. It was just…weird, I guess. I understood what you meant.” She avoided eye contact, opting to trace imaginary circles on the granite countertop with her finger, instead.

She studied him earlier and now it was his turn. Tonight, she was behaving differently. It was refreshing to not spend the evening,
fending off her advances. In this new light, she reminded him of Trisha Beck, a redhead little cutie he dated back in high school. Except for the hair color—and being like thirty years older— Mrs. Herjavec's features were the same, pronounced cheeks, long slender nose and captivating green eyes.

“Why are you grinning at me like that?” she asked.

He didn't even realize he was smiling. “You remind me of an ex-girlfriend from another lifetime, except she was a little more…quiet.”

She nodded. “I get it. It's no secret that when I drink I become like this total whore who will hit on anything that moves. The honest truth is, I've never cheated on my husband.”

“Really?” he asked, afraid he sounded a little too surprised again.

She shook her head. “Not even once.”

“That's good.” He couldn't come up with anything else to say so he finished off his bottle of beer.

“Have you ever cheated on your wife?”

He spotted a trashcan at the end of the island. He tossed his empty bottle into the garbage.

“Want another one?” She headed back to the fridge before he could even answer.

“No, thank you. I'm good,” he said. “I don't like drinking alone.”

“Fine.” She flashed a smile. “You twisted my arm. I'll have one with you.”

“Oh, no, I didn't mean it like that.”

“Too late.” She reached into the refrigerator, pulled out two bottles of Kalik and brought them over to the island. “What the hell did I do with that bottle opener? I had it a second ago.”

He grabbed one bottle, brought it up to his lips and bit off the cap. He grabbed the next bottle and did the same.

“Ohmigod, I love it!” she exclaimed. “How in the world did you do that? You didn't break a tooth?”

“I used to do it all the time when I was younger.”

“And you never broke a tooth?”

“Never.”

She walked up to him. “I gotta see this.” She cupped his chin in her palm and lifted his head. “You're right, no broken teeth. In fact, your teeth are perfect. Maybe I should start opening bottles with my teeth.”

He laughed. “No, you don't want to do that.”

She took a sip of her beer. “You never did answer my question.”

“What question was that?”

“Have you ever cheated on your wife?”

He choked down the swig he just took. She handed him a napkin.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

DeShaun took the napkin and dabbed around his mouth. “I'm fine.” He was more careful with his next swig. “So how many people are attending the party? I'll need to get a rough estimate so I know how many servers to bring with me.”

“I don't know, one hundred or so.”

“Do you have a pen and pad? I can write some of this down.”

She reached behind her and pulled open a drawer. “Here you go.” She slapped down a black pen and a notepad onto the island. “Tell me about your wife. What is she like?”

“My wife?”

“Yes, your wife.” She leaned her elbows onto the island and rested her chin in the palms of her hands, ready to listen. “I bet she's pretty.”

“She is.”

“I can tell you what else she is.”

“You can, huh?”

“Yes, I can. I'm part psychic, you know.” Her eyes twinkled when she smiled.

“Okay, then,” he said, playing along. “What else is she?”

“Lucky.”

This time, DeShaun felt the heat rise to his face. The fact that Mrs. Herjavec could unnerve him made him uncomfortable. “You think so?”

“I know so. You seem like the type of guy that pays attention to his woman. You take her out, you show her a good time and then you romance her all night long. Am I right?”

“You'd have to ask my wife that.”

“I bet she's young, too. She's pretty and young.”

DeShaun shrugged. “She's about my age, a little older.”

“I told you I'm part psychic. So you like older women?”

“I guess,” he said. “Now, can I ask you a question?”

“You may.”

“What did you mean when you said if you're not a young, black guy, your husband's not interested?”

Her smile faded. “When did I say that?”

“The other night at the party, when you cornered me in the kitchen.”

She shook her head. “I am so sorry for that. I really don't remember too much.”

“That's okay,” he said. “I get that all the time.”

“I bet you do.” She took another sip.

“So, was it true?” DeShaun asked.

“What?”

“About your husband, liking young boys.”

She thought a moment before she nodded. “Sure is.”

“How did you find out?”

“Let's see.” She took a deep breath. “I came home early from a charity event I was hosting. It was quiet so I assumed he wasn't home. In fact, he was supposed to be in China for this grand opening of something or another. I came into the kitchen, grabbed
some leftovers and sat down and ate. I even went to the back patio to check out my roses. After that, I headed upstairs.”

“He was up there the entire time?”

She made a noise that sounded something between a full out laugh and a chortle.“Yes and when I went to our bedroom, I found him and another guy engaging in sexual relations.

“Seriously?”

She nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. I will never forget it.”

“What did he say?”

“Which one?”

“Either one, I guess.”

“Absolutely nothing,” she said. “They were so into it, they never even saw me. I grabbed my purse, and took off. I still have that image burned into my brain.”

“How long ago was this?”

“About three weeks ago.”

“He still doesn't know you saw him?”

“Nope.”

“Have you told anyone?”

“Only you and my therapist.”

“I'm sorry,” DeShaun said. “I can't imagine having to live with a secret like that.”

She shrugged. “It's all par for the course. I understood what I was getting into when I married Berti.”

“You knew he was gay?”

“I knew he was eccentric,” she said. “I had no idea to what extent. And I don't really consider it gay, more like he enjoys non-traditional activities of a sexual nature.”

“Maybe we should get this done,” DeShaun said. “I really do need to get home soon.”

“How about this?” She tapped her index finger on her bottom
lip. “I really don't know all of the details yet. I'll have to talk to Berti. When I do, I'll e-mail you everything. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good.”

“Great. I'll be in touch.” She stood up. “Thank you for coming, DeShaun.”

“Thank you for trusting me.”

“You're welcome,” she said with a warm smile. She grabbed his hand and squeezed. “And thank you.”

He stood up to leave. “Take care.”

Mrs. Herjavec saw him out the door. He hopped into his car and pulled off down the driveway. He couldn't wait to get home to his wife to tell her the good news about the party. Plus, after talking with Mrs. Herjavec, he'd found himself slightly aroused. Maybe it was the way she looked him in the eye when she spoke. It could've been the way she took a drink from his bottle or how easy it was for her to trust him with her secret. In any case, he felt the urge to go home and make love to his wife all night long.

I heard DeShaun pull up to the house. It was well past 9:30.

“Mimi! You home?” He dropped the keys onto the hallway table and then I heard him head toward the kitchen. He flicked on the kitchen light.