This Life: A Novel

by Maryann Reid

  “So how many women have you brought to this little hideout?” Blake said, smiling and nursing her glass of red wine. They sat outside in the garden area staring at the shiny, black lagoon in front of them.

  Kenton looked into her eyes. “I figured with all the press and such that you didn’t want any more attention. And no, I haven’t brought anyone else here. It just opened.” He smiled back.

  Blake smirked coolly. “So glad things went well the other night. I wasn’t sure how it was gonna go down.”

  “Neither was I, honestly. Lionel did well. I’m proud of him, and you…and your mom.”

  Blake laughed. “She thought she would never see the day when Lionel and I reunited. I’m glad she did,” Blake said, gazing back at Kenton. “And thank you, for making this work.”

  “Ahh, no big deal. Plus, if it means I get to see you more, I’ll do anything,” he said, arching a brow.

  “Well, you can start with telling me why are we alone tonight? Dinner? Fancy restaurant?”

  “Because I want to be with you. Or get to know you better,” he said, self-correcting.

  “I like both answers.”

  “I want you to know that this isn’t about Lionel,” Kenton said, loosening the collar of his perfectly pressed, buttoned white shirt. He leaned his back against the chair. “This is about me and you. If we had met under other circumstances, I would still feel the same. You?”

  Blake’s eyes scanned his handsome features, the broadness of his shoulders, his thick, bushy eyebrows that shaped dark, deep-set eyes. She stopped at his lips, and slightly parted hers at the thought of kissing them.

  “Blake?” he said, breaking her concentration.

  “Our connection isn’t all about Lionel. I know.”

  “It isn’t. When I first laid eyes on you, I just knew it. Damn, if I had met you at an after-work bar, I would have kicked it to you there. Anywhere.”

  They laughed.

  “When should I tell Lionel everything? You think he can handle the full truth about his father?”

  “I don’t know, Blake,” Kenton said, shrugging. “I know the boy, but he’s growing up and it may hit him pretty heavy. I say do it when it feels right. That can be anytime. I’m sure he has questions too.”

  “I wish I didn’t have to let him down. I don’t know who his father is, there’s nothing I can really say besides how it happened.”

  “Blake, you gotta let the gates fall open. Everyone knows. Do you want him to find out some other way about the rape?”

  “I don’t,” Blake said, her heart beating fast.

  Kenton reached for her hand. “You’ll make a great mom. You have so much to teach him that I can’t. Take it one day at a time.”

  Blake nodded, holding back tears.

  “And there’s another thing. I’ve thought long and hard on this, Blake. I don’t plan to be lawyer my whole life. I have plans to run for the Senate. Lionel knows this already, and he’s okay with being in the limelight for a minute. And if you’re in our lives, you would be too.”

  Blake laughed and reached for her wine. “I’m no stranger to that.” She could only imagine how her background and dramas could hurt his chances, but she didn’t want to defeat his dream. “I’m fine with that, since we don’t know where this is all going. Us, I mean.”

  “I know where I want us to go.” He looked at Blake intently, his eyes saying more than words could. Their plates sat cold, but the words heated up. “I want you in my life.”

  “Senator, though?”

  “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on running for president later,” he said, picking up his fork.

  “I’m fine with being Blake’s mom, even you and I exploring what we’ve got here. I’m feeling you as much as you’re feeling me, Kenton. But I’m not so sure about playing the good girlfriend if you’re running for office.” Blake shook her head in refusal.

  “Listen to me,” he whispered in her ear. The diamonds in her ear tickled his lips. He moved them to the side and kissed her lobes.

  “I’m listening,” she purred.

  “I do good as a lawyer, but as Senator, I will have relationships that can last a lifetime. It’s legacy making.”

  Blake liked the sound of it, but she wasn’t used to being a part of anyone else’s dreams. She was a lone soul in the world. But she too felt that need to change.

  “Kenton, I think it’s great what you’re doing. But think carefully. I’m not exactly political material. I have some dirty laundry.”

  “Don’t we all?” he said, low and heavy.

  Their eyes locked, and Blake felt that conversation was for later. Kenton intrigued her, and she liked that.

  “I can win this election coming up in a few years. You just have to promise you’ll stand by me.”

  Blake nodded; she was always up for a challenge. Kenton leaned in and touched her soft, glossy lips with his.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  September 21

  Miami, Florida

  Weeks passed and Blake hadn’t thought for one minute to return to New York. She had Charles to take care of the financials, and an expert legal team on call to handle her case via phone or email. Her life in Miami had gotten wrapped up quickly with Kenton and dealing with the Margot-Thomas drama. It just never seems to end, she thought as her eyes glided over a distraught text from Margot.

 

  It didn’t take long before Blake found herself in the driver seat of her black Lamborghini heading over to Margot’s. Her brain spun with what could be next. She was pretty sure Margot knew about the pregnancy, and was hoping that Thomas did the right thing and told her. There was no way she was going to keep being the bearer of bad news in Margot’s life.

  Blake ascended the winding driveway of Margot’s lavish home, parking right in the front next to the Margot’s white Mercedes. She lightly dabbed her lips with a peach-colored lipstick in the mirror, hopped out of her car, and took a deep breath as she walked up the steps.

  “Honey!” Margot said, before she could even ring the bell. Margot wrapped her arms around her.

  Blake let her body fall into Margot’s embrace and inhaled the sweet rose-scented perfume she wore. Whimpers followed.

  “Why are you crying? You were just smiling from ear to ear,” Blake said, lowering her head to look into Margot’s tiny brown eyes. She took Margot’s hand as she led her friend into the private den.

  “What is going on?” Blake said in a demanding but kind tone.

  “It’s Thomas.” Margot grabbed a napkin that sat on a glass table between them.

  Blake listened.

  “He wants to come back. He doesn’t want to divorce.”

  The tears kept flowing from Margot’s eyes as she continued. “She’s pregnant and he wants us to raise the baby.”

  Blake’s stomach plummeted to her stilettos. “What? Huh?”

  “I’m done with him! How can he have the audacity to do this! To get a whore pregnant and expect me to raise the baby? Is he insane?” Margot said, squeezing the tissue for dear life between her dainty hands.

  “Breathe, Margot. Think through this. Are you sure you want to divorce Thomas?”

  “Yes, yes, oh, hell yes!” Margot raged. “What else can I do? I have to show him I mean business. He has ruined our lives.”

  Blake looked intently at Margot, who seemed more hurt than angry. No matter how many times Margot said yes, just by the sheer look of lost in her eyes, she could tell her best friend was not ready to throw away twenty years. She was hurt, and hurt was okay.

  “Sounds to me like you are holding all the cards, Margot. I wouldn’t fret. Thomas is putty in your hands now.”

  Just then, Margot’s eyes transfixed on Blake’s relaxed face. “What do you mean?” she asked, wiping her face dry.

  Blake stood up, folded her arms against her chest, and paced the room, thinking. She stopped near the sun-drenched bay window. “If Thomas wants to come back,” Blake said,
“he’s probably willing to do what you want to make this all go away. Does it matter to you why he’s coming back?”

  “I bet it’s to keep his money. He can’t afford to pay me in a divorce settlement and take care of that wench with his baby.”

  “Let’s face it, Thomas probably could. I’m sure he’s coming back because he genuinely wants to be with you. Sometimes a man has to hit a wall before he can look back to appreciate what he had. You and Thomas always wanted a child. Robin wants money. She couldn’t care less about the baby. Work something out.”

  Margot looked up at Blake. “Are you saying pay Robin off?”

  “You said it, not me.” Blake grinned.

  “Oh, no, I’m divorcing that scum bucket,” Margot said, pointing in the air. Her eyes burst into tears again.

  “Margot.” Blake held her shoulders. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. I won’t judge you if you stay with him. No one will.”

  Margot shook her head. “I’m just so embarrassed. He hurt me more than he could ever know.” She took another tissue. “But I do love that man. We have over twenty years together. He has been there for me even when I hurt him the most.” She smiled to herself. “I haven’t exactly been the perfect little angel wife.”

  Blake smiled with her eyes about the time Margot told her about an affair she had had with her masseuse, Lau, a thick, muscled Malaysian man who was twenty-five years her junior. Thomas found out and fired him, but not before Thomas beat him to a pulp. Things were never the same, but they made it work. Blake was convinced that this was an unusual marriage of love and convenience that Thomas and Margot unconsciously worked out between them.

  “Make a deal with Robin. Have Thomas talk to her. I guarantee you she will hand over that baby faster than a Serena Williams serve.”

  Margot sighed deeply. “I would love my own child, but I would be happy with any child, especially one born from Thomas. Maybe in some strange way this is a gift?” Margot asked, her eyebrows raised.

  “Maybe,” Blake said, sitting back down across from her. “Don’t let Robin win. Thomas and you belong together. I see this working out for everyone. Are you willing to see that Robin has some kind of monthly allowance?”

  “For what?”

  “I’m just saying women like that tend to get ideas. Maybe write her a nice check. I’m sure she knows some secrets by now you don’t want told.”

  “Well, I hope Thomas wasn’t that stupid.”

  “Anything’s possible. But I always believe every woman should leave a situation stronger, better, no matter what it is. Though I may not talk to Robin anyway, I did have a friendship with her, and I don’t want to see her discarded or out on the streets because of this. You will need Robin on your side for this to work.”

  Margot nodded. “True. We’re gonna handle it like real women. I knew what I was signing up for years ago when I married Thomas. Scratch that, when we started dating. Wives all over in my shoes know we have to deal with a lot to enjoy this lifestyle. I’m not willing to give up my life for anyone. I won’t be a victim to anyone’s bad decisions.”

  “You control your own destiny,” Blake added. “We all do,” thinking of her own woes.

  “I also plan to keep pursuing my own ideas, maybe even start my own business.”

  “That’s right, Margot. Tell Thomas. Tell him what you need. Demand it. Like you said, you both made mistakes.” Blake rose and headed to the door. “If you need anything, let me know, but I know you can handle this.”

  Blake walked out into the shiny Sunday afternoon with the brightest smile she had all day. She wasn’t so sure what she was happy about. Maybe it was because she helped instead of destroy Margot’s marriage or that love and companionship still reigned at the end of the day. Margot and Thomas were, to her, the Black power couple trying to make it work in the hectic, crazy life they all shared. It kept the light burning in her own heart. It wasn’t about who was right or wrong. It was about winning. Today, Margot was her hero.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  September 22

  Miami, FL

  Up the next morning as she puttered around her Miami Beach home, Blake felt a familiar restlessness rising in her chest. She helped Margot, hell, maybe even Robin with a nice fat check, but was she helping herself enough? The idea she had for Margot was pretty genius, she thought. Just having the guts to suggest it without Margot cursing her out a second time was a risk. Blake held the warm cup of tea in her hand, and an old name from her past came to mind.

  Jake Jones. He was a private investigator she hired many years ago to find some dirt on a competing real estate firm that had sabotaged a few of her early purchases in Harlem. He was able to dig up the clandestine second life of Mark Spencer, one of the managing directors that Blake threatened to expose. Mark backed down, and slowly Blake began building her portfolio to turn abandoned, burnt-out brownstones in Harlem into valuable family homes. It was something Mark and his agency never did, only buying and holding, never fixing. Blake was credited as one of the first buyers to make Harlem the real estate hot pot it turned into during the early 2000s.

  Blake’s cell phone was at the far wing of the house, and she took a few steps downstairs to her office, flanked in gorgeous, clean lines of steel blue and silver. Her sturdy, shiny steel-colored desk was neatly arranged with a phone, MacBook, and a few pens. She never did business here, only in emergencies.

  “Jake, this is Blake Bertrand. It has been forever, but I need a favor. Call me, if uh, this is you,” she said, hanging up the office phone in hesitation. She wasn’t even sure if this old number worked, and beat herself up for a few seconds for giving her full name. What if it wasn’t Jake, and a freak stranger who would call her back?

  But before she could even let that thought settle in, her office phone rang.

  “Long time,” said Jake in his light, quippy voice. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you,” he teased.

  “I’m sure you have,” Blake laughed, relieved to hear from him. “It can’t be any better than what these tabloids are pulling out their asses.”

  “Congratulations on everything you’ve been doing. Forget those fuckers, they deserve to die.”

  Blake gulped. She remembered Jake being quite the eccentric, and scary. She was glad to know some of the old Jake was still there. “Speaking of fuckers…”

  “I know you need something,” he interrupted. “I’ll do anything, and if I can’t my guys will.”

  Blake gulped again, but inside she felt excited. Jake could really do anything she wanted. That was good to know. “Well, I don’t need anything that can get your hands too dirty, and I hope I never will. But you know I got a case, right?”

  “Yup.”

  “I need it to disappear. My lawyers got my financial papers to the FBI that cleared me, but they are sweeping it under the rug. There has been no public declaration of my innocence, making me look like I’m still a criminal,” Blake said, breathless. She took a pause. “They are screwing me over, probably embarrassed that they screwed up this investigation looking at me, when all the resources should have gone to investigating Lang—”

  “Blake, they hate you. Everybody hates everyone in this world,” Jake philosophized. “You’re young, successful, gorgeous, and they want to stop you from getting to that next level. Don’t let them.”

  “Exactly, I can forget this and move on like nothing happened, standing judged by others for the rest of my life. Or you can do something for me.”

  “All ears.”

  “Dig some dirt up on the DA handling my case. That fucker has more dirt in his life than a Dyson. If he can’t do his job, I’ll have to make him do his job, and do it right.”

  “Send me the deets now,” Jake commanded. “I like this one.”

  “Me, too,” Blake grinned. “Email address still the same?”

  “Indeed.”

  Blake pulled up her computer and sent Jake the DA’s name and anything else about him.

  Jake rep
lied three hours later.

  #

  September 28

  Miami, Florida

  Blake and Kenton sat in his living room to catch the evening news. Lionel was in his room doing homework, which Blake thought was just fine. She didn’t want him to see what was coming up.

  “I can’t wait to see what that DA has to say about all this. What an asshole,” hissed Kenton as he shook his head.

  Blake melted into his arms. She didn’t reveal that she already knew what the district attorney had to say. She learned to always keep some things to herself. Blake smiled as she sipped her glass of red wine. Actually, she hadn’t said a word for the last ten minutes they had been together. He knew she was tense, and she hoped he wouldn’t press her. If he did, she’d have to lie.

  “Here it is,” Kenton said, turning up the news.

  Blake put her drink down. Jake had assured her all was taken care of. As the DA spoke, a slim grin ran across Blake’s lips.

  “—So, I stand here now to say that we have closed the case against Blake Bertrand. She is innocent, the charges have been dropped. We will now proceed with the further investigation of other persons of interest—”

  Blake clapped, and so did Kenton. “Hear, hear,” Kenton said, holding up his glass of wine and handing Blake’s to her. “Congratulations. You are finally a free woman.”

  They both clinked their glasses to a quick toast. “Well, I figured it was about time they made this public declaration. I can go on with my life.”

  “How long will it take for them to unfreeze your assets?”

  “Oh, it’s done already.” Blake slipped, then clenched her jaw. Oops, she thought.

  “How? He just made the declaration today. I’m sure there’s some paperwork?”

  Blake didn’t answer, and brought her glass to her lips.

  Kenton lowered his eyes on her, arching his right brow. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing anyone else in my shoes wouldn’t do. Let’s just say all is well. It was just this public declaration that had to be done. I’m fine. All is fine. Okay?” Blake said, looking at him sternly. She hadn’t had to answer to a man since being married, and she was in no mood to start today. No way, she thought, she was going to tell Kenton about Jake, or that he discovered that the DA led a second life picking up male prostitutes. Jake took explicit photos, showed it to the DA, and gave him twenty-four hours to confess or he would send them to the local newspapers, and TV stations. It didn’t take but a second for the DA to comply and wipe Blake clean like a whistle.