BABY ROYAL

by Bella Grant

  “Oh, God, don’t remind me,” he said and wiped his hand down his face like he was trying to erase the memory. “Thank God you didn’t get pregnant.”

  The words knifed me right through the heart. He was unsympathetic to my tears. All he saw was that I was poor, and that alone was distasteful to him.

  He continued, although it was more like he was musing. He didn’t look at me. “To think of all the times I went out with you. What if someone knew? Imagine what a fool I’d look like!”

  “Is that all you can think about? Your image?” I retorted hotly. I could barely find food and medication to help my mother and sister, and all he cared about was his reputation.

  “Yes!” he replied arrogantly. “If you had one you would understand.” He glowered at me, sinking me further into the ground with his eyes as he hammered home how important he was and how I was not. “Well, in all fairness, you do have one, just not one anyone would want.” He turned up his nose and started walking off.

  “Raymond,” I said quickly and held onto his arm.

  He shrugged me off. “Get off me. You don’t deserve my love.”

  The anger swelled in me like a tidal wave and came crashing down on the shore of his condescension. “Your what? Your love? Do you even know what that is?”

  He paused and turned to throw daggers at me with his eyes. “Watch it now,” he cautioned.

  I was well past caution. He had already made up his mind, so I might as well give him a piece of mine. “Or what? You’ll throw me out? Too late for that. You know, when I first met you, I thought you were a nice, decent man… someone I could make something with.” I threw my arms into the air. “Yeah, I did it wrong. But what else was I supposed to do? I did it for my family, because I wanted to help them—to give my little sister a chance in this cold, cruel world. At least I had good intentions. But you”—I bore down on him, my index finger touching his chest I was sure was devoid of a heart— “you walk around feeling like King of the Hill, with all your money and power, and what did it get you? You don’t know what love is, and no amount of money will give it to you. You are a miserable man, Raymond, and I’d rather be poor and homeless and full of life, than be so cold and heartless. And empty,” I spat and skirted him as I stormed off.

  I would find a way to survive on the streets. I didn’t need Raymond Jameson any longer.

  My head felt like it would explode when I hurried past Grace and some of the other curious house staff who had apparently witnessed the fracas in the garden. I got to my—the—room, and pressed against the door as it clicked shut. Emotions swirled around me—anger, hurt, confusion, and pride. Mom had warned me, but my ambitions were above my pay grade, and now, I reaped the rewards of my idiocy. I had made a bad situation worse, because I had another person to think about. I needed to find a job before I started showing or no one would hire me. I didn’t even want to go back to Henrietta anymore. My pregnancy would only look more scandalous there.

  I grabbed the carryon and reopened the door. I didn’t see Raymond on the way downstairs, but the house staff milled around, much more than before. I couldn’t say I blamed them. I was a spectacle, and everyone wanted to see the show. I held my head high and walked to the garage. That’s where I found Raymond waiting for me.

  “I need a ride,” I defended right away. I thought he was there to prevent me from using the car.

  Joshua stood by the driver’s side, waiting for his instructions.

  Raymond clenched his jaw and turned to him. “Take her downtown!” He walked over to me, but I refused to look at him. “She might be more comfortable there.”

  I swallowed but wouldn’t let him rile me up anymore. I bit my lower lip and rolled the luggage to the door. He didn’t help, and when Joshua attempted to, he pointed him back to the driver’s seat. He was colder than I had ever seen him, which was saying a lot.

  I caught Joshua glancing at me from time to time in the mirror as he drove away, like he wanted to ask, but I was too embarrassed to speak. My heart was as heavy as the carryon I had with me as the car followed a familiar route. I didn’t want to go to the shelter – I didn’t know how to face Mom yet. So, I told him to take me to the bus bay instead. I still had a little money. I could find somewhere to sleep tonight.

  When we got to the bus bay and I got out of the car, I saw Joshua’s eyes grow glossy. I could tell he was sympathetic towards me, which only made me want to cry.

  “It’s okay,” I told him through a forced smile after climbing out of the car. “I survived before Raymond Jameson. I will survive again.”

  I don’t think he bought it. He hugged me for the first time. “Take care, Anna,” he whispered against my ear.

  I nodded and looked away quickly so he wouldn’t see the tears or the pain etched in my facial muscles. I watched as the limo pulled away from the curb, and I remained rooted to the spot, a few feet away from the bus bay. Several paved rectangular seats were available, and I wheeled everything I owned in the world behind me as I advanced on them. I fell, like dead weight, against the cold concrete structure, with no plan in mind and no idea what I would do next. Minutes later, I got up and looked around for the closest motel.

  Raymond

  How could I have been so careless? I kicked the door shut and practically tore the shirt off my body. I was back to square one. I still needed a wife. But first, I had to get rid of this one.

  I fished my cell from my pocket and searched for my attorney’s number. He answered on the second ring. “Raymond! Calling me on a Saturday evening. That can’t be good,” he answered.

  “Yeah, no, it’s not,” I replied and raked my hand through my hair. “Listen, I need a divorce.”

  “A divorce?” he asked and choked on whatever he was drinking. “Didn’t you just get married?”

  “Yeah, and now I want a divorce. How soon?” I was impatient to get rid of Anna before the world found out I had been sleeping with someone who used to live in a homeless shelter. I shivered at the thought.

  “Well, I’m out of town for a few days, but a divorce isn’t so easy to come by. There is the separation period and…”

  “How much?” I tossed a line at him, hoping he would bite. There was hardly anything money couldn’t buy, including a hasty divorce.

  “I’ll see what I can do when I get back,” he agreed readily.

  Lawyers! “When will that be?”

  “Let me see,” he began. “In about two weeks. I’m in Prada now, but I must make a few stops before heading back to the Caribbean. Hopefully, you can wait that long.”

  “I guess I’ll have to. You can count that time as separation,” I suggested. “See me as soon as you get back.”

  “Sure thing,” he replied and the line went dead.

  I tossed the phone on the bed and sighed deeply. Shivers ran down my spine when I thought about how my mother would react if she found out about my soon-to-be ex-wife. Pity it was a stain I couldn’t get rid of. I needed to get this divorce over with. At least she wasn’t living with me anymore. I only hoped no social engagement came up that would require both of us attending. I didn’t know how to explain her away just yet. I had only just married; it would raise questions if anyone knew I already wanted a divorce. People would begin digging, and I was nervous about what they would find.

  I told myself repeatedly that I wanted to get rid of Anna, but truth be told, spending close to three months under the same roof with a beautiful woman, albeit poor, had carved a space inside me. I saw her everywhere and in everything inside the house, and the bed didn’t feel quite the same. I hadn’t used it before her, and now that she was gone, I’d save it for the next woman who would occupy it. That night, I moved back to my former bedroom, but Anna’s ghost moved with me.

  For the next couple of days, I breathed a sigh of relief. My mother didn’t seem to have caught wind of my failed marriage. She would have loved it. I, however, was stuck with my original problem. I tapped my pen on the desk and wondered about my other
options. I had contemplated being with several women before. Davina came to mind, and I called Marissa.

  “Get Davina Rosewood,” I told her.

  “Davina Rosewood, sir?” she queried.

  “Yes, one of the women I saw at the Regent,” I added.

  “Oh,” was her reply. “Right away, Mr. Jameson.”

  In minutes the phone rang, and I grabbed it. “So, you came to your senses after all.”

  That was precisely the kind of attitude I had tried to avoid. Now that I seemed like the one who was crawling back to her, I had given her the upper hand. “I don’t believe I did,” I scowled.

  “You know that little tramp was nowhere in your league. What you needed was a real woman.”

  I assumed she meant herself. “This is a helluva way to recommend yourself,” I replied sarcastically.

  “Look, Raymond, I’m a woman who knows what she wants, and that could be you. But only if you’re ready for all of that.”

  “Davina, do you realize it’s my decision which bride I choose, and not the other way around?” I didn’t wait for her to reply. “I think I made a mistake calling you.”

  “No, wait,” she said hurriedly. “Let’s have dinner and work something out.” She was begging now… an even worse trait.

  “No, that won’t be necessary. I wish you all the best,” I told her and hung up. I relaxed into the chair and allowed my weight to push it further back.

  It was obvious to me that not only was I not attracted to Davina anymore, but I wanted something more than a face I had seen on the Internet. Look what happened the last time. As I sat on the chair, rocking it backwards, I thought that maybe it would be better to do this the old-fashioned way. I needed to get married soon after this divorce was settled, and it would be better if I got a head start on that.

  I brought the chair to the desk again and reached for the desk phone. “Marissa, get Peter for me, thank you.”

  “Will do,” she chirped.

  I needed to get out, but I didn’t want to do it alone. The phone rang, and Peter came on the line. “It must be serious for me to be getting a call at this time of day,” his baritone boomed on the other end of the line.

  “No, not really,” I said, even though I blushed with embarrassment. “What… I was thinking of having a drink later…like we used to.” Peter’s laughter erupted in my ear, and I had to move my head away. “What was that for?”

  “It’s been a long time since you’ve called me to go have a drink. What? Can’t handle that wife of yours?” he joked.

  “You have no idea,” I answered.

  “Okay, I planned on going over to The Scorpion tonight, have a hard drink for the hard day I’m already having. You could meet me there about seven, and we could go a few rounds like back in the old days before you became so prissy.”

  “Oh, come on. I haven’t been that bad,” I defended and pinched my nose.

  “Oh yeah? Man, you used to hit the clubs every week, one girl after another, and then it was as if you fell into a black hole. You went to work and did nothing else. You didn’t even have a woman. I bet you were fucking that little thing every night since she moved into your house.”

  “Let’s not talk about her,” I suggested.

  Peter whistled. “Trouble in paradise?”

  “I’ll tell you later.”

  “Okay,” Peter replied.

  I did need a stiff drink—something that would clear my mind of Anna. I was angry at her for taking over my life and my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, and I wondered if she was back at the shelter and how she was doing. It had only been a few days, so maybe she…she couldn’t have found a job by now. Maybe I shouldn’t have canceled the card and should have Bruce check to find out if…

  “Just stop!” I barked at myself. She isn’t your concern.

  I was distracted for the rest of the day, and despite my better judgement, I kept checking the site, returning to her profile picture like she was some sort of drug I couldn’t get enough of. But what was the point? She and I were from two different worlds. It would never work.

  I was haggard by the time I left the office that evening. The Scorpion was a bar and grill closer to the east side of the city. It was a popular haunt, and by the time I got there, it seemed everyone else in town had also. It took some doing to find Peter and pry him from between two women.

  “Hey, you actually made it,” he said, his voice slurred like he had been there for hours and the alcohol was doing him in.

  “I told you I would,” I replied and looked around, taking in the old though somewhat unfamiliar scene. He was right. I had dropped out of the game when I realized it was a waste of time. It felt like the appropriate thing to do under the circumstances. The people who patronized The Scorpion were usually affluent, and if I had any luck, I might meet a woman who could be the wife I craved.

  “Yeah, you’ve said that many times. Come here,” he said and grabbed my arm and led me back to the women he was with before. “This is Amber,” he said, and pulled the dark-skinned beauty forward along with the other woman, “and this lovely woman is Cassidy.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Amber smiled, revealing two perfect rows of teeth. Her hands were soft, and her presence warming, and immediately, I thought of what it would be like to have a wife like her.

  “Raymond,” I responded and kissed one hand and then another. It was clear by the introduction Peter already had his eyes on Cassidy, so Amber went in for the kill.

  “So,” she purred, immediately wrapping her fingers around my forearm, “want to have a little fun?”

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Peter goaded and nodded his approval.

  I’m already here, so what the heck? “Sure.”

  She pulled me into a corner booth close to the back and sat in a provocative way so I had a full view of her perfect tits. She leaned forward, hypnotizing me, and I had to force my eyes back to her face. I was almost glad when the waitress passed by.

  “Would you like anything to drink?”

  “Yes!” I jumped and said. “I’ll have a scotch. Amber?”

  “Um…” she hummed and tapped her chin with her finger. “Apple martini,” she said eventually.

  As soon as the waitress left, she turned back to me. Immediately, I felt her claws digging into my leg. She groped me, and her hands slid along my leg, inching closer to my cock that felt more violating than exciting.

  I gripped her hand and moved it away slowly. “Going a little too fast, aren’t you?”

  She looked at me like I was the crazy one. Then she laughed. “Are you for real?”

  I guess she wasn’t used to being turned down. “You could at least let me buy you a drink first.”

  She wanted me to fuck her, and judging by her little act, this was something she had done many times before. I didn’t want to go deep sea diving in a shallow pond where many had fished before. That alone turned me off, as beautiful as she was, and reminded me of the woman I had slept with last—the virgin I had taken and let go of. Anna had shown more class than Amber, which was surprising to me. I knew wealthy women could be bitches, but it never occurred to me that the poor could demonstrate class despite a lack of money.

  “I can buy my own drink,” she crooned and leaned closer. I felt her lips brush against my neck as her hand grabbed my cock.

  I grabbed her hand and forcefully removed it. “I’m not here for that.”

  She pulled back and looked disgustedly at me. Then she scoffed and slid out of the booth. “I don’t need this,” she said and adjusted her breasts under the skimpy black dress she wore. The waitress returned, and she took the glass from the tray and walked off.

  I smiled awkwardly and took the other glass. I downed it in one gulp. “I think I’ll need a few more,” I told her.

  She nodded and disappeared into the crowd that swelled by the minute. Amid a growing throng, I felt alone and remembered why I had become a recluse. This wasn’t what I wanted, and I
would not find what I needed here.

  Peter saw me sitting alone and hurried over. “Hey, what the hell was that? Where’s Amber?”

  “She wasn’t my type,” I told him and toyed with the glass before me.

  “Your type? She wasn’t supposed to be a type. She was supposed to be a distraction,” he leaned over and whispered loudly, his voice grating as he did so. Then he paused and looked hard at me. “Wait, is this about…what’s her name…Anna? Your wife?”

  My head down, I rubbed my hand over it. “I wouldn’t quite call her that now.”

  “So, you did find something about her.” He sighed. “Sorry, man.”

  “Nah, it’s cool.” I half smiled.

  He stared at me again and chuckled. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you had feelings for her.”

  My head jerked and I looked at him. My mouth fell open in anticipation of a denial, but I couldn’t say the words. I did have feelings for her—more than I cared to admit or feel.

  “Happens to the best of us,” Peter said and patted me on the back as he stood. “Maybe you should try to make it work, regardless of what you found out. I mean, unless she was a hooker or something.” He laughed.

  I did too, but it was mostly superficial. “Yeah, I guess.”

  He returned to Cassidy, who had a few friends of her own. He was still laughing and hooting as the women surrounded him, pouring drinks into his mouth and drinking from him like a fountain. I smiled when I saw how he resembled a teenager.

  He was the lucky one. I hadn’t found what I was looking for. Instead, I was made acutely aware of the effect Anna had on me and how hard it would be to escape her influence.

  Anna

  I lived out of motels on better nights, and in the bus bay restroom other nights, for almost two weeks. I only had the one carryon, and from it I was able to maintain a sort of comely appearance. I didn’t look homeless yet, but it was only a matter of time before the clothes would become worn and tattered and I would look like every other beggar.