This Life: A Novel

by Maryann Reid

  On this Tuesday afternoon, Blake sat in a meeting with Vanessa, Jerome, and some NBC executives and representatives of major advertisers, comparing how Gabby Truitt and Eve Womack had performed on the final challenge of The Takeover. “Entertainment Weekly, Wall Street Journal, and TMZ have all predicted Gabby to win,” observed one of the advertising reps.

  “They should fire their fortune tellers,” Blake replied. “Gabby hasn’t earned the win.”

  “How can you say that? Their final projects were equally well done,” Vanessa protested.

  “In some other universe, maybe, but not in this one.” Blake sat up straight and met each person’s gaze in turn. “Eve’s marketing strategy for her pediatric recreation center is simply brilliant. She made a TV commercial that moves viewers to both tears and laughter, and her proposal to hospital management makes such a good argument for the business value of adding a pediatric rec center that I can’t imagine anyone saying no to her. Gabby’s TV commercial is cute but a half hour later viewers can’t tell you the name of her company, and her proposal to movie studios doesn’t really convince me that they should use her production company rather than anyone else’s.”

  “Viewers consistently rate Gabby higher for likability than Eve,” Jerome mentioned, and then withdrew inside his shell.

  “I suppose that would be paramount in importance, if they both wanted to live their lives on film stages. This show is about who’s the most promising entrepreneur. Or at least, that’s what I was told when I was asked to host it. I never would have agreed to do this if I’d been told it’s only about who viewers would rather go out for drinks with.”

  Nobody spoke. Blake nodded, more to herself than anyone else. “Tomorrow I declare Eve Womack winner of The Takeover. I suggest you all get used to the idea.” She stood, as did Antonio, and since it was then half past four o’clock, she returned to her apartment early.

  #

  August 19

  New York, New York

  Lights. Cameras. Action:

  Seated at the long conference table on the set of The Takeover, Blake faced Gabby Truitt and Eve Womack for the last time. Both women were jittery with anticipation, Eve frequently flexing her hands and Gabby bouncing one foot on the floor at rapid speed.

  “As always, your work on this challenge was reviewed by experts. In this case, professional marketing agencies rated your promotional strategies and materials by the same criteria they use for their own employees. They also brought in test viewers for your TV commercials, and panels whose members were recruited from the professions you’d need to sell your business to in competition with rival businesses. You were both considered to have done good work.”

  Blake stood before she said, “In business, being good isn’t enough. You’ve got to convince the world you’re the best.”

  She moved to stand by the plush clock, and looked back at the two anxious women still sitting at the table. “Two-thirds of the marketing agencies, test viewers, and panels of professionals agreed on one of you as the winner. And I agree with their reasoning. So…Gabby Truitt, punch out the clock. Eve Womack, congratulations on being the first winner of The Takeover.”

  Melodrama:

  “This is a joke, right?” Gabby continued to sit at the table, looking around with a dazed expression on her face. Meanwhile, Eve’s family and significant other rushed onto the stage to hug and cheer for her.

  Nobody replied to her, so Gabby shouted, “I was promised I’d win!”

  Vanessa flapped an urgent hand at the director, who motioned the cameraman to cut the recording. “Now, Gabby, we talked about this—”

  “YOU PROMISED!” Gabby burst into a flood of tears and choking sobs, and ran off the stage.

  Blake felt a knot rise in her throat. She marched toward Vanessa and demanded, “Was she telling the truth? Did you promise her she’d win?”

  “We thought we could persuade you,” said Jerome, behind Vanessa. He cowered as Vanessa whirled around and leveled a piercing glare at him.

  “So this is reality TV,” Blake said, looking at another camera that appeared to be still recording. “But whose reality is it?”

  She walked off the stage and tried to find Gabby, Matt following her. But Gabby and Lang were nowhere to be found.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  August 20

  New York, New York

  The next day Blake made it on the cover of the local New York City newspaper again. This time it was all about a secret she wanted to keep. One that she had planned to hold near and dear until the time was right, or at least until the dust had settled with her financial and legal drama. “Blake A Flake? Secret Son.” She kept her eyes glued to the page as she absorbed every icky, sticky line of lies.

  Well, I’ll be damned, Blake said to herself. She slammed the paper down in her lap. She was in the car on her way to the airport to catch a plane back to Miami. It took every bit of strength she had not to tell the driver to turn back around. She couldn’t leave this mess behind in New York. She picked up the phone.

  “Vickie, what the hell is going on? Why didn’t you call or even warn me about this hot-ass mess on the cover of the Daily News!? I pay you good money to keep me informed and keep shit like this off the radar—”

  As Blake belted into Vickie, she noticed Vickie didn’t have much to say at all.

  “Vickie? You have no right to be speechless right now. You can’t be more shocked than I am,” Blake said, totally bewildered. Then her stomach sank. “Did you leak this? Did you sell me out?”

  “Blake,” Vickie finally said with a sigh. “I did it for your own good. Your brand and name are going down. I’m sorry. This gives you a chance to control the story, tell your side. You can be the mom who makes it right, and repent for your sins. Tons of women will support you. After all, you were raped, and a victim of domestic violence.”

  Blake put the phone down, took a deep breath, and brought it back to her ears. She still hadn’t responded to Vickie. She had no idea how much Vickie knew, but she knew far more than she had let on. But how? Blake wondered.

  She picked the phone back up. “You’re fired,” Blake said, coolly, and hung up.

  Now, she was left to pick up the pieces. “Driver, please go faster, I don’t want to miss my plane,” Blake said as she slipped her shades back on. Then she thought about Lionel.

  On the flight, it dawned on her that maybe she did need to take control and leave her fate out of others’ hands. Everyone had made a decision or TRIED to make a decision for her, from Vanessa to Vickie, and she wasn’t having it anymore. Let the shit hit the fan, she thought. It was about time she shed any and all drama, and started again.

  #

  August 21

  Miami, Florida

  While in Miami, she made another major decision. She let Suki and Antonio go. It wasn’t easy because she had grown attached, especially to Suki, but there was always a danger in letting people get so close you can’t do without them. Blake thought if she was going to be open about her life and face it head on—the good and the bad—she had to do it alone. Blake was at a point where a growing fearlessness was taking over, and she was starting to not give a toot. The only thing she cared about was Lionel and getting back on top.

  She also had some business to clean up. Robin. The word in town was that Robin had moved in with Thomas in a condo in Miami Beach. Her plan was to knock some sense into Robin, and hope she could persuade her to leave Thomas. As much as Margot seemed sure to divorce him, she just didn’t think it was right that Robin got away with the kit and kaboodle. As long as Robin and Thomas were together, she could never get rid of the guilt she’d carry around, even if Margot had forgiven her.

  She sent Robin a text.

  Orchid was a quaint Thai restaurant, discreet and out of the way from prying eyes. Blake held her breath waiting for Robin to respond. She felt a deep desperation to make this work, and thought about even paying Robin. But no, she t
hought again.

  Blake read the text.

  Blake texted back.

 

  Blake took that last text as a yes, and she called Orchid to make the reservation, which was only two hours away. It seemed like an eternity.

  #

  Blake waited for fifteen minutes until Robin arrived. When she did, it looked like Thomas was sparing no expense to keep her maintained. Prada bag, check. Gucci heels, check. Versace shades and a fitted Chanel dress topped her confident look as she glided into the room. Blake beckoned the waiter to get Robin’s attention. Within seconds, Robin was walking toward the table.

  “Hey,” Robin quipped as she slipped off her shades.

  “Hey,” Blake said dryly.

  “You look nice.” Robin half-smiled at Blake. “New York seemed to do you some good. Beautiful Herrera dress. Is that the new Birkin?”

  Blake nodded, looking bored. “You almost seemed surprised. You know I always take care of myself despite what you’ve been hearing.”

  Robin cleared her throat. “Well, I don’t know how bad things really are.”

  Blake signaled to the waiter, a tall, slender man with short, wispy hair. “Are you ladies ready to order?” he asked.

  Blake eyed the menu over once. “I’ll just have a glass of wine. Make that two.”

  Robin held her hand up. “I’ll pass on the wine, please. Sparkling water is fine.”

  Blake gave Robin a one-eyed look. “You pass up alcohol. Free alcohol?”

  “Well, what can I say? Thomas has made me into a honest woman.”

  Blake clenched her teeth. She knew his name was coming up somehow. But she’d wanted to be the one to bring it up. She was the one who called the meeting. “Speaking of…” Blake began. “When is that going to end? You know it will never work, Robin.”

  Robin pressed her lips together and hissed. “You’re just jealous, Blake. All that access, and the best you can do is a bunch of old steel buildings that are worth nothing in this market. You couldn’t even keep a man. So don’t tell me about what can’t work. You obviously have no clue.”

  Blake raised an eyebrow. She was glad they were in public because she wanted to pummel her fists into Robin with her pompous, arrogant attitude. Blake knew from years of training in the boardroom how to deal with anxiety-ridden people who wanted to project their feelings of inadequacy on her. So, in her steadiest, calmest tone, she said, “I owe what I have to no one. I know tricks and secrets to survival you can only imagine. I’m what you aspire to be on your best days. I always have been. You took Thomas because you wanted some of this life. And now you got it. Soon, he will leave you. If he can leave a wife after twenty years, you’re nothing more than a weekend jaunt.” Blake looked at her watch. “And it’s Sunday.”

  Robin looked down at her empty plate. The waiter came just in time with their drinks. Robin sipped hers slowly as she seemingly battled with what to say next.

  “So, Robin, why don’t we make it easy for everyone. Leave Thomas. I’m sure he will give you a nice allowance. And certainly he won’t fight to keep you. Find someone who will actually want to do more than fuck you. You’re not his first stray while he’s been with Margot, and that makes you anything but special.” Blake swirled the wine in her glass as she studied Robin, whose confident swagger suddenly seemed to fade.

  “Are you just jealous that if I take one of your most lucrative investors, you’ll have to start going through me to get to him?” Robin smirked.

  That caught Blake off guard. She was surprised at Robin’s remark, but she had a point. Blake wasn’t about to let her know it. “I’ve made Thomas more money in the last five years than he’s made in twenty-five years in the business. So leave the big talk for the players. Okay?”

  Robin pressed her lips together so hard Blake could see every line around her mouth.

  “You can never be me, even if you buy up all of the East Coast, start another charity, or stay with Thomas…it’ll never happen.”

  Robin’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know why I thought you’d be on my side.”

  “Your side?”

  “I was your best friend. Now there’s this Margot woman. Thomas is my way of, yes, having the life I was supposed to have. The one you got with other people’s money—you call investors.”

  “Fuck you, Robin,” Blake said in a slow, cool manner.

  Robin rolled her eyes. “Thomas is handling that just fine. I’m pregnant.”

  Blake nearly dropped her drink.

  “And it is Thomas’s,” Robin quipped, sitting up straight. “We’re moving in together. So much for weekend jaunts. I’ll be in his life forever. No matter who likes it or not,” Robin said, with an almost juvenile-little-girl tone in her snap back.

  Blake stood up and shook her head in pity. “You just have no idea how this life works. When you get to this level nothing, not even a whore with your baby, is going to make you choose her over millions. Thomas will never leave Margot. Even if he does, he will never leave her. In time, you’ll know exactly what I mean.”

  Blake dropped a fifty-dollar bill on the table and adjusted her Birkin bag in the crux of her arm, and left Robin behind.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  August 30

  Miami, Florida

  “So what now? Why did you bother going to New York City? Your business is all out in the street now. Have you ever thought how it would affect Lionel when he becomes a man?” Jacinta asked as they sat on the balcony of her condo.

  Blake hadn’t told her mother about Kenton yet. It was almost too good to be true, and a tiny part of her still had a hard time believing it. “I met Lionel’s adoptive father.”

  Jacinta glared at Blake. “And you didn’t tell me?!”

  “I’m telling you now.” Blake ran down how she met Kenton while Jacinta kept her ears glued to every word. “He sends me videos of Lionel now. I don’t have to sneak around anymore.”

  Jacinta just shook her head as she took it all in. “Well, how does that man know you’re Lionel’s mother?”

  “Remember, I had an open adoption. I did that so Lionel can be free to contact me when he was ready.”

  Jacinta’s worried eyes grew calmer. “I trust you. If you feel so strongly that this is right, then it may good for you to do. In fact,” she said, raising a finger, “I know it is. When can I see him?”

  Tears gathered at the corner of Blake’s eyes. “I’ll arrange for us to go to Kenton’s. Not now, but eventually I’ll tell the whole story. But for now, I’m telling him I’m his mother and I love him.”

  #

  That night, Blake and her mom visited Kenton and Lionel. Kenton had picked up a few boxes of pizza and fried calamari.

  “Where is he?” Blake asked Kenton after making a quick introduction between her mother and him. Jacinta waited in the living room as they spoke.

  “He’s still upstairs,” Kenton said. “I told him he would have an important visitor. Not who, but I think he’s expecting something big. He’s ready.”

  Blake stood frozen, her shoulders and neck feeling tight and painful. Almost as if reading her mind, Kenton put both arms around her. He squeezed her gently and said, “A child will always love their parent. It’s called unconditional love, Blake. Welcome it.”

  Blake thanked him with her yes, and walked back to the living room to wait for Lionel. Unconditional love. What was that, she thought. She couldn’t remember a time when nothing came without conditions; she expected them.

  “He’s coming,” Blake said to Jacinta. Jacinta put her hand to her heart as they both turned to look at Lionel coming down the steps.

  Blake stood. He looked just like her father. Tall, with a long, lanky body; thick, curly hair that he wore loose; and light brown skin. Blake fell to her knees.

  Lionel stood before her in an awkward stance, and a face filled with questions and a tinge of impatience. She took him into her embrace. He was stiff, but obliged. Jac
inta and Kenton stood quietly to the side.

  “I’m your mother,” Blake said, looking up at him. She hadn’t thought of any fancy words to pepper her revelation. She just wanted to say it.

  Lionel stood there. He looked to Kenton for approval. Kenton put his hand on his shoulder and said, “So you officially have two parents you’re stuck with.”

  Lionel finally broke a smile. “Mom? You’re my mom?”

  Blake nodded as the floodgates of tears gushed out. “And I love you. I want to be in your life, Lionel. If you will have me,” she said. She braced herself for a swirl of questions.

  “I love you, too,” he said in that pure innocence only a child could have, and an unconditional sense of love she never experienced before came over her. So this is what it feels like.

  She rose and grabbed him into her arms again. They stood together, holding each other.

  Jacinta joined in the hug, and Blake said, “This is your grandmother. My mother.”

  Lionel nodded, rubbing his eyes from sleep or tears. “Hi,” he said, swaying his body from side to side.

  Jacinta grabbed him and pulled him toward her, almost taking him off balance. Blake and Kenton laughed. So did Lionel.

  “These are for you. It’s in your blood,” Jacinta said, handing Lionel a small box of Blake’s father’s CDs and raw, uncut jazz tunes. “Your granddaddy would have loved to see this day. You have generations of gifted, talented men behind you.”

  Kenton sat on the couch with his feet kicked up on the leather ottoman, letting the two women own the moment, but Blake wondered if he didn’t feel a bit left out. Pizza for all and several Jazz CDs later spelled the end to one of the most memorable nights of Blake’s life.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  September 2

  Miami, FL

  Kenton met Blake for dinner at a quiet, tucked away restaurant that didn’t have a name or an awning. There was no phone number listed. It was exclusive and private—exactly what they needed.