Just Can't Let Go (19 page)

CHAPTER 34

Blake

“W
hat are you wearing?”

I hated when men asked me that over the phone. Prayed he didn't ask me to FaceTime. My intent was to call Bing and tell him good night. It was late. I was tired. My feet ached. My bathtub was filled with warm water and bubbles.

I missed my Yorkie. He was still at Sandara's with the kids. We'd be okay. I'd decided to let Max stay with Sandara for one week provided her work schedule permitted. Mercedes was her backup. Alexis could only take care of herself. Devereaux was too busy. Once I was comfortable with my corporate schedule, I'd set up Max's space in my new place.

I told Bing, “I'm going to put you on speaker if you don't mind.”

“Not at all. How'd dinner with Devereaux go?”

Folding a plush white towel, I placed it on the side of the tub, cradled my cell into the slit with the speaker outward.

“She's got a lot going on. All of my girls do. I'm staying out of their business.”

Seeing Spencer show up to meet Alexis, I was over it. Done with him. He didn't seriously expect me to hug him. Quietly, I eased into my big spa tub. There were lots of fond memories of Spencer and me here.

“Smart choice. Glad I don't have those concerns.”

Wanted to say me too. Didn't want Bing to think I wouldn't accept his kids and their problems, but he didn't have any.

“Are you sure you don't want kids?”

He laughed. “I'm a bit selfish with my time. No. I don't think men should father children unless they're willing to become a full-time dad. Child support. Fighting for custody. Children didn't deserve that. Being responsible, using protection, that's the easy part.”

Didn't want to soak in the bad decisions I'd made. I changed the subject. I asked, “What are you wearing?” I felt his energy. “Let me guess. A smile.”

“That, and aqua blue boxer briefs.”

“And?”

“Soon as you tell me what you're wearing, I might not have on anything at all.”

No he didn't flip it to me. “I have to admit, I'm not good at phone sex.” In my sexiest voice, I spoke real soft. “I'm relaxing in my tub big enough for two with my erect nipples poking through the bubbles.”

“Oh, really?” he moaned.

“Yes, I wish you were here with us.”

“Us?”

“Yes, my pussy is calling . . . Bing.”

“You're a good liar, Blake. My manhood is swollen. Circle the tip of your finger around your areola without touching your nipple.”

“Okay.” I did. It felt good. I moaned a little.

“That's it. Now real slow, slide your other hand down the side of your body, to your thigh, bring your hand to your inner thigh. Pause for me. I'm imagining my bald eagle's head is surfacing to the top of the suds parting the bubbles between your breasts. Kiss it for me.”

“Huh?”

“Blake?”

“Oh, I'm sorry. I dozed off. Told you I wasn't good at this.”

“I'm going to let you get some rest. To be continued. Give me a call when you have time.”

I really was exhausted. I got out of the tub. My doorbell rang.

It definitely wasn't Bing. Wrapping a towel around my body, I trailed water to my bedroom. I got my gun, went downstairs.

“I can hear you. Blake, it's Spencer. Please. Let me in.”

CHAPTER 35

Ebony

“And . . . action!”

I lived for this moment to be back in the
#spotlight
. I was nervous when I arrived on set. The brand-new studio spread over four hundred acres. The interior of each home was decorated to fit our personalities. As it should be, I had the
#mostfabulous #mansion
. West-Léon and I were being filmed first for episode one.

I opened my front door. Smiled. Gave West-Léon a juicy kiss, then let him in. My designer black low-rise fitted pants highlighted my big booty and exposed my belly button. The black long-sleeved blouse had a sexy V to show off my cleavage. Diamond pendant necklace sparkled. Six
#realblackdiamondstuds
, three in each ear, signified I was that
#BitchwithBands
. Fire-engine red lipstick complemented my long, wavy blond hair. Devereaux had the hair stylist blend a few clips of cotton-candy pink throughout to give me a signature
#sweetcandy
look.

I loved it!

“Guess what I have for us,” West-Léon said, entering as he waved a piece of paper.

Playfully, I tried to grab it. Quickly he pulled it away, kissed me again. “You are going to love me for this, my babe.”

Hearing West-Léon call me “my babe” felt natural. Dressed in a pair of relaxed jeans, a tapered cropped sleeved black T-shirt that hugged his abs, and square-toed leather shoes, he wrapped his arms around my waist, picked me up, then swung me in a circle.

“Who's the man?”

Landing on my seven-inch stilets, I gave West-Léon a loving look. “What is it, my babe?” I asked playfully.

“Can't tell you. Grab your purse. Let's go.”

“You know how I hate surprises.” I picked up my purse, followed him outside.

Trés called, “Cut!” Then said, “From the top.”

We ran that scene three more times before moving on to the next. I had my hair and makeup retouched each time. West-Léon had his refreshed too.

The next scene we were standing in front of my place as a white Rolls Royce entered the driveway.

A chauffeur opened the back door on the passenger side. I stared at West-Léon.

“What are you up to?”

“I can't tell you. Get in.”

The driver entered onto Interstate 75 south. When he stopped we were in front of ticketing at Hartsfield International.

I was not happy. I scooted away from West-Léon, pressed my back to the door. “You should've checked with me. I can't go out of town, West-Léon. I have an event to attend tomorrow. Where's your main girl?”

“She's in New York,” he said, not knowing that was where my event was.

“New York. Doing what?”

“In the studio. Recording.” There was a B-roll that would cut to her, then back to us. “We'll be back in the ATL before she gets back here.”

Truth was I had plans to meet my married guy Travis in New York for the weekend. He'd planned a private party for my birthday with all of his A-list celebrity friends in Manhattan. Of course Travis's wife would be there, but he'd be spending the night at the Waldorf with me.

“It's for your birthday. I'll have you back by Monday.”

“What time?”

“Eight.”

“a.m.”

“P,” he said.

The camera crew filmed us entering the airport at ticket check-in. Trés called, “Take!”

The viewers would see a studio replica of the inside of the airport. When we arrived at the gate, I'd notice he'd booked us a flight to Puerto Rico. Easing my cell out of my purse, it would show my booking a one-way ticket from Puerto Rico to New York first flight out in the morning.

Devereaux had outdone herself. Memorizing my lines did not compare to bringing my character to life. From my house to the airport completed our part of the shoot for day one.

“You guys did great. Tomorrow is a travel day,” Devereaux said.

I told her, “Thanks!” with a huge smile. Almost gave her a hug and a kiss. That would've been inappropriate under the circumstances.

Tomorrow we'd film West-Léon and my arrival into Puerto Rico. I'd stay overnight, we'd celebrate my birthday until sunrise, then (while he was asleep) I'd jet-set escape for my flight to New York and fashionably arrive just in time for my party with Travis . . . and his wife.

Maybe I could have dinner with my real husband while I was in Manhattan. Tonight I wanted celebratory sex. I'd only invited one person to our home one time while Buster was away. This series had me believing I could get over on any man with anything. I felt adventurous and dangerous at the same time.

I texted Spencer,
Meet me at my house in an hour. My husband is out of town.

CHAPTER 36

Alexis

I
texted Spencer,
Come over right now. I need you.

The odds weren't in my favor to have a child growing inside of me. Not because I'd faked a miscarriage and the odds of being pregnant this soon were slim. My epiphany was I didn't want children at all. When I saw pictures of LA on James's cell, then Chanel seriously ended our relationship, I had no one to rely on to pay my bills. Concocting the pregnancy was to gain sympathy.

Men don't know as much about women as they think. Spencer spoke intelligently on how to please a woman sexually, how to make her squirt. The particulars on miscarriage, abortion, and pregnancy, he wasn't up on calculating why women would lie about those things. There was no way James could check my cervix or medical records to confirm or deny my involuntary termination.

I texted James,
I really hate that I lost our baby.

I replied,
What if I'm pregnant from this weekend?

I didn't bother to tell him I'd stopped when I started lying about being pregnant. I'd had sex since then, but not with a man. If I were with child, I'd be one hundred percent sure James was the father. Exhaling, I didn't respond to his last text. I prayed his child was inside of me.

Hit Spencer with the text,
Are you on your way? You want me to come over? I need someone to talk to man.

All day I'd chilled at my spot wondering what was wrong with me. Why did I feel the need to manipulate those closest to me? Money wouldn't make me better. I had to want to treat people good. I'd be glad when my college classes resumed next month. Had too much idle time.

The flowers I'd sent my mom were from my heart. She didn't deserve the way I'd disrespected her for too many years to count. She seemed happy last night at dinner. Even offered for me to call her attorney. This inheritance would give me financial freedom for life. Hopefully I'd be kinder.

A more considerate Alexis Crystal, didn't even feel right thinking it. I enjoyed being a bitch.

Three boxes of pregnancy test sticks were on my coffee table. Didn't want to take it without my brother being here so either way somebody would know I was telling the truth. If I weren't expecting, I'd lean on my brother for support.

Spencer didn't need the money my dad left me. Maybe that's why Conner left it all to my baby-to-be and me. I was going to get pregnant. Soon. Real soon. Tonight maybe. James couldn't resist me.

I called my brother. Got his voice mail.

The suspense was killing me. Picking up one of the boxes, I went to the restroom. Peeled away the seal. Peed on the stick, then waited for a + or − sign to appear. The results gradually showed in the window. The information stated the test was 99% accurate. It was a +.

“Yes!” I jumped up and down. Danced. “Wow!”

I took a picture. Started to text it to Spencer. Changed my mind. Sat on the toilet.

“Now what, Alexis?”

Well, I had to have the baby. I didn't have to keep it. And I was sure who the father was. Initially I was excited, but now I wasn't. What was going to happen to my gorgeous figure? The added weight, wide nose, big feet, possible morning sickness for real this time. Why was I tripping? I was going to be on the same level with people with money who could afford trainers and nutritionists.

Sitting on my sofa, I picked up the trust. Scanned the pages. I stopped. My eyes stretched wide. “How in the hell did I miss this?”

I read, “The baby must be born on or before December 31st, of the current year.” It was July. The only way for that to happen was to let a doctor cut me open three months early.

All I could do was cry and scream, “I hate you, Conner Rogers!”

CHAPTER 37

Phoenix

“T
his shit has got to stop before I lose it, man.”

Marvin was my boy. He was out there getting his stroke on. Just like me, but he didn't have my problems.

“I finally got the contract from my lawyer. I lowered my fee from ten grand to five a month. I'm going to take it to Goldie tonight. That way I can be on set soon as I find a sitter.”

Marvin busted out laughing. “You're killing me, dude, and Devereaux is going to abominate your ass. Let it go and chill this season.”

“Man, I've tried to stop fucking with Goldie but I can't.” Marvin didn't understand. He'd never fallen in love with one of his sides.

“Try harder, dude,” Marvin insisted. “I'm your friend. I wouldn't tell you this if I thought you couldn't handle it, but you're fucking up. Devereaux is a
good
woman. She's rising to the top and you're drowning in two feet of toxic water. Time for you to uplift the woman who's got your back. When this series hits, Goldie is going to drop you, bruh. Then what? I'm not going to tell you again. Leave Goldie alone!” This time he was obviously pissed with me.

“Man, I want to but, I just can't let go.”

“Fine,” Marvin said, then asked, “What about Sandara keeping Nya?”

“Man, she's trippin'. Said she got a job and she's going back to school.” I laughed at that bullshit, went to Nya's bedroom.

Nya had fallen asleep. It was eight. I could leave her here, go to Ebony's, get the contract signed, and make it back before my baby girl got up.

“I know I said fine, man, but I'm your friend. What you need to do is chill,” Marvin said. “Devereaux is all that.”

“Man, she ain't going nowhere.”

Marvin laughed hysterically. “No. She's not, but your black ass is if she finds out. Where are you going to live? How are you going make it, man?”

“And how's she supposed to find out? Ebony is not going to say a word.”

“Nya might say something if she's ever around Devereaux while Ebony is there too. See, you're not thinking this shit through. You're thinking with your dick, dude. Don't blame Goldie or nobody else when you fuck yourself.”

I was too on top of my game for that to happen. “I don't take Nya to Ebony's. I take her to Uncle Marvin's house.”

“Aw, hell no, man! Don't put me in the middle of your foolery. Devereaux is my girl and I respect her even though you don't have enough sense to. You're dumber than I thought. I'ma talk to you later, bruh.”

Anxious to be on my way, I ended the call first. Devereaux would slaughter me if she came home and found Nya here alone. I picked up my baby girl, put her in the car seat, then drove to Ebony's.

Shit was like
Groundhog Day.
I put Nya in the bed downstairs. Went upstairs. No sign that Ebony had been here.

“What the fuck she gave me this key for?” I said, clenching it in my fist.

Tossing the pages to the contract on her bed, I headed downstairs.

I texted her,
Where the hell are you!

Scooping up my baby girl, I took my black ass home. Marvin was right. I needed to let Goldie go.

But I couldn't.