The Davonshire Series 2: Loving Words (3 page)

Neither man was sure where to start the conversation, Wilfred handed Rod a key to his new place and his new boss stepped outside and started the cart. The front door was now secure with Rod uncomfortably seated beside a man whom Rod ascertained was dealing with some obvious anger issues. The ride commenced in silence as they rode the rest of the way to the office.  Nearing the buildings, it was obvious that one was the main office and the other the warehouse.  For the first time, Rod began to regret his decision to come.

The outside of the office was a metal warehouse type of structure with a wooden sign that said “Davonshire House Publishing Group” with the trademarked logo of the lady in the chair.  There were only three windows in the front of the one-story building, which made it appear sad, lonely and pitiful. Dread and trepidation filled Rod as he opened the main door to be greeted by a warm and cozy office space filled with soft illumination from the overhead glass panels that let in tons of natural light.  Native desert plants in varying hues of greens, yellows, and pinks adorned the common space of the office.  A friendly receptionist came forward to greet them both. Her profile was stunning.

She was young, attractive, had lots of energy and oddly enough, did not gawk at Wilfred as Rod would have expected, but he chalked that up to the young lady working with him for a while.  She was introduced as Jaelon, the office manager. She provided a firm handshake and ushered Rod to his new office, but as she turned, the right side of her face showed an ugly, jagged scar, like someone had taken a serrated blade to her face.  It was obvious she was self-conscious about it, and Rod made a mental note to not make an issue of the cruelty someone had shown her.

His new office was large, spacious, and well organized, and held a mini fridge, a mini stocked bar, and executive furniture complete with an office putting green.  Potted desert plants sat on the credenza and the bookshelf housed every book that Davonshire House published.  Rod changed his mind about about wanting to pack up and leave as when he first saw the outside of the building.

Rod’s personal assistant walked into the office.  She was an older Hispanic woman with intense eyes, taut lips, and furry eyebrows who gave him a smile so warm and genuine that he nearly forgot she looked like a member of the cast of
Fraggle Rock
.  Her name was María.  The remainder of the staff was equally as cordial.  Wilfred’s assistant, Rita, did not seem to like Rod very much when he was introduced to her. She only nodded at him and when he offered her his hand for a shake, she recoiled.

“She doesn’t do touching,” Wilfred said. “So don’t be offended.”

Rod nodded and Wilfred took the gun from his waistband.  “Come on into my office.”  The Sig Sauer was placed on his desk and he instructed Rod to take a seat at the office table.  Jaelon came into the office and brought two bottles of water and a fruit tray and Rod found himself admiring the view as she walked away.

Wilfred cleared his throat.  “Jaelon is my cousin, so please keep your eyes and hands to yourself.  That applies to all the ladies here… not just her.”

The next two hours flew by as they walked through the daily operations of the business.  There was a great deal to cover and Rod had no idea how large the company actually was with such a small building and a warehouse.  “I keep the overhead low by contracting freelancers.  At an annual salary of fifteen to twenty thousand from me, and the same from two more publishing houses, editors and graphic artists can remain independent and still make a decent living.”

Wilfred explained, “With such a streamlined operation, it’s easier to reduce printing, publishing, and distribution costs.”  This took the conversation in the direction of growth.

“You do realize in order to grow, you are going to have to expand what it is you do here.”

 He could see Wilfred brace himself for the impact.  “David added another division of non-fiction and creative non-fiction.  These will pair well with the eBook division I want to develop.”

Rod went on to explain, “The new addition of the company is based in Atlanta and it was a really sweet deal and easy money, but …”  He waited when he saw Wilfred tense up.  There was no longer a need to drag it out.  “The new contract comes with an autobiography from your best-selling author, W.E. Devons.”

The gun had remained on the desk as Wilfred went to one of the three front windows of the building.  Half looking at Rod, half looking out the window as he tried to steady his breath. Wilfred looked up and his eye color had changed to almost an obsidian color.  Rod swallowed hard before he added the last part.  “David also hired a very nice lady as the ghost writer to come out and live at the ranch for six months while she writes your story.”

Rod could not move fast enough to catch Wilfred before he hit the floor in a dead faint.

Wilfred Earl Devonshire was a bit of a mystery not only to those around him, but also to his family. Although he could technically be considered a middle child, he was a mere three minutes older than his twin sister and nine years younger than David.

David had finished college by the time Wilfred and Wilhelmina had begun middle school.  A tear in David’s ACL prevented him from becoming a professional football player and led to a six-month sulk in his bedroom.  David Sr. and Elena Devonshire knew something had to be done about David and the smell emanating from his room.  Fate was kind in the way of a modeling agent, spotting a twelve-year-old Wilhelmina in the mall.

A quick flight to New York landed her a modeling contract with Phillip Morris.  Elena was unable to travel with her daughter, so David was paid a starting salary of $25,000 to manage his sister’s career.  No one had any idea that David would turn her into a household name, land her three movie roles, and create and leverage the brand to produce one of the biggest lingerie houses in New York.  Wilhelmina had taken on the professional name of Vanity Devons, and her company, Vanity’s Pleasure, was booming. The last time anyone checked, Wilhelmina’s pet project was the biggest rival to La Perla.

Vanity was known throughout the fashion world for her modeling.  Hollywood directors often came knocking, but of the twins, Wilfred was the more beautiful.  His beauty was also his curse that had instilled in him a dread and mistrust of the outside world and of people – women especially.

As the son of one of the greatest civil rights attorney’s in American history, he had grown up under an umbrella of protection.  His mother, Elena Devonshire, was a bit of nobility, coming from a royal family in Portugal and arriving in America as the daughter of the Portuguese Ambassador.  Wilfred attended private schools and, once his sister became famous, David had managed to stock Wilfred’s bank account by acquiring some modeling gigs for him as well.

There are no real words to describe the types of people who hung around with models and in the fashion world, but many were predators and it is easy to become prey.  Several advances by women, as well as men had been made on him, and he became vigilant in his efforts to stay close by his brother or sister’s side.

At the ripe age of sixteen, he lost his virginity to a supermodel with one name.  She was twice his age, filled with experience, and left him used up after a tawdry night.  She also left him with a venereal disease.  David had walked in on them and was polite enough to allow his brother to finish his first experience, but made certain the one-named seductress would never touch Wilfred again.  He filed charges against the woman and kept it all hush-hush.  David was burdened with the notion that he’d failed Wilfred and worked diligently to get the STD taken care of without their parent’s knowledge.

As David had been gifted with financial and language skills, Wilhelmina was blessed with an outgoing personality and the piano-playing ability of one who had been schooled for decades.  Wilfred, very unlike the other two, was a bit of an introvert blessed with a beauty of words.  There were times where he did sing about the house, but only when no one was listening.

The way that he looked also drew much unwanted attention to a young man who was uncertain of himself and a first sexual experience that left him humiliated.

David had been very careful from that moment forward to select age-appropriate women who had been prescreened for Wilfred to spend some time with.  At the age of seventeen, after a few cameos on some television shows and two movie roles, Wilfred landed a lucrative underwear modeling deal with an A-list designer.  He was also fortunate to be the guy on the end in the United Colors of Benetton ads.  At the ripe age of 18, he had made his first million dollars.

The modeling world had not been to his liking.  The people and the women were much too fast for a young man who needed time to allow the words that floated freely about his mind to sink in. Wilfred wanted to catch the words and put them on paper.  He wanted to be a writer.

Leaving the modeling world behind, he opted instead for schooling enrolling in a small private college not far from his parents’ home, which was littered with liberal idealists who taught him to harness his words and write stories of beauty.  He published his first story in one of those love magazines, which earned him ridicule from classmates and professors alike.

Working with his father, he used the same last name pseudonym of his sister and abbreviated his first name, taking on the persona of W.E. Devons.

Under this persona, he published 23 short stories and his first novella.  Things had been moving along well for Wilfred in college until one spring morning when he awoke to find his roommate’s girlfriend with her hands under his covers. Mortified and shamed, he felt as if he had betrayed Butch, although the advances were completely perpetrated by her and he had done nothing to encourage her advances.  He had wanted to discuss what had occurred with his roommate, but David thought it wouldn’t be a good idea.  He was even more disillusioned when two weeks later he awoke to find Butch under his covers, face down, with a great deal of Wilfred in his mouth.

Wilfred called his father, who came for his son and spent a weekend of fishing.  He was reluctant to tell his dad about Butch’s violation, but David Sr. knew something was wrong.  Since it had been his senior year of college, he finished the last semester through distance learning and received his degree through the mail.

All was progressing well for Wilfred until six months later when David came home with his new love interest.  Wilfred, who was now working on his second novel, admired the way the woman moved.  He felt she would be an ideal villain in his next book and he watched April with intense interest. April mistook his staring as an invitation and let herself into his room in the wee hours of the morning.

Wilfred believed he was experiencing the most wonderful dream.  But much like a dream where you have to pee, if you don’t wake up, the bed will get messy. His dream felt so real he didn’t want to wake up. However, when he finally managed to bring himself out from under, Wilfred awoke finding April riding him reverse cowgirl and began to scream.  His cries awoke the house and everyone took off to his room, which left him once again humiliated, because in front of his parents, his big brother whom he respected and admired, his twin sister, the housekeeper and Cook, she finished her sinful ride and brought him along with her.  She even took the sheet as she climbed off and patted him on his ass, which was now exposed from the ball in which he had curled himself into.

For three days he refused to leave his room.  Wilfred wouldn’t eat.  Elena had to force him to drink and David Sr. threatened to haul him into the hospital if he went one more day.

David visited him daily and told him it was not his fault.  Searching his brother’s eyes, Wilfred saw no animosity.  David tried to explain that it was he who felt bad that April, who was very gifted in bed, had chosen his parent’s home and his brother to betray his trust.

At the gentle age of 21, Wilfred Earl Devonshire was done with the world and women.  He had become tired of the women who saw him as a sex object or a fuck toy. He had been chased through the airport and initiated into the mile high club over the Pacific by some vixen with perky tits and matching personality. Everywhere he went, everywhere he turned, there was some woman—trying, wanting, lusting. It scared him.  When he wanted or needed a woman, he flew to New York in his sister’s private jet and had her set him up with an evening’s worth of company that could tide him over for six months at a time.

He was done with duplicitous men, manipulative women, and quite honestly, just wanted to be left alone.  The only woman who lived in his house respected him and took care of Gianni.  The women who worked for him knew better and were of no threat.  David, the person whom he trusted most in the world, had picked out some random woman to live under his roof and write his story? 
I will get you back
.  David had said the words to him and he thought nothing of it, but this.…

 Smelling salts had been used to bring him around and he awoke to find Jaelon holding his head in her lap.  His eyes began to focus and he looked at Rod with clear eyes and an even clearer idea,  “I want you on a plane first thing in the morning.  Get to Atlanta and get me out of this shit!”

Wilfred was rocked to his core.  The sheer idea of some strange woman living in his home, sleeping down the hall from him, was simply unacceptable.  Life, circumstance, and fate had taught him that women were not trustworthy. Nearly every woman he had encountered seemed to be in an eternal state of estrus.   They all came at him like dogs in heat and would not back off until he satisfied them sexually.  There was no need for misunderstanding. He loved women and enjoyed satisfying their carnal needs, but within reason. 
I want to be the chooser.

Furthermore, Wilfred was angered that David had interfered in his life and made a judgment based on what they thought or felt his little brother needed. 
Maybe I have spent too much time in hiding and have given David too much control
.  The harsh realization that the only real link to the outside world for the past five years had been his brother and sister seated itself upon his chest. 
David got married and now he wants to meddle in my life?

The perfectly hued café au lait skin had become flushed. Small red hives had begun to appear on his neck, forearms and hands.  The steady hands that had just petted and calmed a Mustang Stallion were now quivering with uncertainty. Rod watched in amazement, wondering if the five stages of grief could be applied to what Wilfred was currently experiencing.  This could easily be defined as the stage of shock or denial, but the fear and the reaction that he was seeing was very real. Rod’s heart went out to this man who had created a world where he could be in control, a world where he had surrounded himself with people who were of no threat to him.  There was an office manned by his cousin, an assistant who hated to be touched, and a woman so odd in her appearance that she would never have the courage to make a move on a man as attractive as her boss.

The pain Wilfred was experiencing was evident on his face.  His eyes darted back and forth and he searched for meaning in this move by his brother.  There had been many an evening when he felt guilty as he watched his tired brother’s eyes droop while they played late evenings of chess.  He knew his brother had other priorities, but he would still come to the ranch once a month and ride with him.  There had been many late evenings of discussions on the literary merits of half written movie plots, poorly written scripts, plays, and even books.  Wilfred now felt foolish thinking that his brother had enjoyed his company– now it felt as if David had felt sorry for him and saw him as pathetic.

“Rod, give me a copy of that damned contract!”  Wilfred said and then began barking orders at the staff.

“Rita, get this contract over to legal and have them comb through every single word.”  He handed her the document after only perusing the pages and seeing David’s signature.  “Find me a loophole and out clause or something and I want some kind of answer by the close of business.”

He walked to the door.  “Jaelon, get Chuck on the line, I need him here at 7 am, and I want wheels up by 9, with Rod on that plane headed to Atlanta.”

He called Rita back into the office once again.  “Find out everything you can on this ghostwriter, Catherine Whatever-her-damn-name-is. I want to know everything about her – even what type of toothpaste she uses!”

The itching had started, Wilfred was pacing, and before he completely collapsed in a flop on the couch in his office, he yelled, “And somebody get me some frickin’ Benadryl!”