Pretty Packages

by Dodson, Mi'Chelle

  Giada saw red at the nerve of Fabian to think that she would actually leave Kentucky for a new car. Hadn’t the man learned anything yet? How many times did she have to dump him for Kentucky before he got the message?

  “There’s nothing to work out,” Giada said, snatching the door open in her anger. As soon as she did, her eyes were bombarded by flashing lights.

  Fabian had brought along a photographer and a bodyguard in the limo with him. The bodyguard had moved to the side of the door to let the photographer get the perfect shot. It was a good thing Giada was always immaculately dressed, even in the jeans, sweater, and boots she wore now.

  “Giada, I love you, baby,” Fabian said, going down on one knee in front of her. “Regardless of what has happened in the past, I still want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

  Giada blinked to refocus. “I can’t marry you, Fabian. I’m already married.” She held up her left hand, still holding Mercedes with her right.

  “Married!” Fabian roared as another round of flashes captured his shocked face.

  “To whom?” the photographer asked eagerly, sensing a juicy story at this unexpected turn of events.

  “To me!” Kentucky replied from behind them.

  * * * *

  At the sound of Kentucky’s voice, Giada’s eyes seemed to instantly focus. There was her wonderful man, wide-legged and tall, with his hands folded across his large chest. Though Kentucky’s face looked menacingly to his foes, she’d never see him look so beautiful. Well . . . at least not in public.

  Kentucky always looked beautiful to Giada in private, especially when they made love.

  “Get ’em, Champ!” Fabian ordered his bodyguard as he moved out of the way.

  At that command, Giada noticed two important things. One, how fast the people driving the three Mercedes started up their cars and headed back to the dealership in order to avoid being witnesses to anything. Two, how forcefully Champ swung on her man.

  Thankfully, Kentucky blocked that blow and administered one of his own. The sound of his fist connecting with the man’s jaw was loud. It even sounded painful. Blood spilled from the man’s mouth.

  When Champ opened his mouth to curse, a few molars fell to the ground. Now he looked really mad. He charged Kentucky.

  “Go in the house, Giada. I don’t want you to see this,” Kentucky said, swiftly moving out of his opponent’s way, which only served to make Champ angrier.

  “The whole world is going to see this by tonight with him snapping all these pictures,” Giada said, referring to the photographer who couldn’t seem to snap his photos fast enough. Even some of her neighbors were coming outside. “Besides, I’m not leaving you out here alone,” she added. “They might try to double-team you or something.”

  “I seriously doubt that. Both of them ain’t nothing but punks,” Kentucky replied, not taking his eyes off either opponent—the one preparing to charge him again and the one who kept barking orders.

  “Show him who’s the real punk, Champ,” Fabian instructed, prompting his bodyguard to charge again.

  “All he needs is a two-piece special and a biscuit,” Kentucky replied, moving swiftly out of the way again. But this time, he flung Champ up against the exterior of the apartment building, where Fabian was.

  Then as the camera continued to flash, Kentucky administered that fast-food meal he spoke of with two blows to Champ’s head and a knockout uppercut to his chin.

  * * * *

  Seeing his bodyguard on the ground unconscious, Fabian began to tremble with fear. He knew he was next. “Stop snapping those pictures!” he yelled to the photographer, who was capturing every fearful shake on film.

  “I stopped being on your payroll the second you told your bodyguard to assault an innocent man,” the photographer said, still snapping away. “I’m probably going to get no less than four figures for each picture.”

  At those words, Fabian took off at a run toward the limo, leaving his bodyguard behind.

  “Boo!” Kentucky roared as the cowardly man fled past him.

  Terrified that something else was going to come behind that “Boo,” Fabian stopped looking where he was going, stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk, and fell face-first on the pavement.

  Giada winced as Fabian’s nose and two front teeth made contact with the concrete. His nose instantly began to swell, and one of those teeth actually broke in half diagonally.

  Kentucky burst out laughing. Mercedes leaped out of Giada’s arms and went to bite the man about his ankles while the photographer caught it all on film.

  By this time, the police had been called by a neighbor. Ambulances came, too.

  The statements everyone made all agreed except for two. Fabian claimed to have been attacked.

  Champ was still talking gibberish as he slowly regained consciousness in the ambulance. The photographer’s roll of film would confirm who really attacked whom that day.

  * * * *

  While Kentucky was still speaking to the police officer who took their statements, he paused in the conversation to instruct Giada to go inside and pack an overnight bag for the two of them. “The media is gonna have a field day with this story. I don’t want either of us to have to deal with people calling the house and ringing the doorbell all evening.” His intent was to take her to the Delfinos’ since his stepmother’s house would probably be the most likely place reporters would go next.

  “I think that’s a good idea, Mrs. Jones,” the police officer agreed. “That photographer fellow has barely taken a break from his cell phone since we got here.”

  Giada smiled at that reference to her married name. “Two overnight bags coming up.” Then she gave Kentucky a succulent kiss and a heated look of promise before going to do as he asked.

  “Call Mama, and tell her and Malik to get packed, too. I’m keeping us all out of the spotlight tonight,” Kentucky said to her departing frame.

  “Whatever you say, baby.” Giada smiled back over one shoulder before turning to sway away.

  “Sir, I hope I’m not stepping too far out of line here, but I would really love to know how an everyday-looking guy like yourself took a woman from a rich pretty boy like Fabian,” the cinnamon-skinned officer asked, being an everyday-looking man himself.

  Kentucky chuckled. “Let’s just say that I learned early on to give a woman all of what she needs and some of what she wants.”

  “What do women need?”

  “Love, respect, security.” Kentucky lowered his voice. “And a man that can make her scream with pleasure in the bedroom.”

  The police officer grinned. “You think that’s how Jermaine Dupri snagged Janet Jackson?”

  Kentucky grinned back. “Maybe. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “Thanks for all the advice, man.” The officer’s voice lowered. “And between me and you, I don’t think Pretty Boy over there is going to be able to pin much of anything on you. Whenever you have this many witnesses all saying the same thing, plus supporting film, it’s usually a pretty open-and-shut case.”

  “I know, which is why I made sure not to lay a hand on him.” Kentucky winked, showing that he also had enough brains to make his everyday package that much more extraordinary. “By the way, Officer, would you like to come to our formal wedding on Christmas Eve?”

  “Will there be any single females there?” the officer asked.

  “Lots of them,” Kentucky replied, reminded of his wife’s long guest list. “Probably even some looking for their own everyday-looking guy.”

  “I’m there.” The officer grinned eagerly. “By the way, you can call me Sean.”

  Epilogue

  Kentucky and Giada’s wedding went off without a hitch. His wedding present to her was a silver Mercedes Benz, which was the exact color she wanted. Her wedding present to him was the keys to the yacht she’d rented for their honeymoon cruise and a letter from her doctor stating that she was clear to start on their family.

  Matchmaking Hannah pair
ed Velicity and Sean together at the wedding. They got married within the year. As of this date, their marriage is still going strong, and so is Hannah and Malik’s, who is now a full U.S. citizen.

  Kentucky’s boarding school is still up and running well. So is Giada’s specialty gift business, which she went into full-time in lieu of working in another law firm upon their relocation to Georgia.

  Being able to stay off her feet and work at her own pace was extremely necessary during Giada’s first pregnancy, which produced an eleven-pound baby boy they affectionately named Kenny Hardy Jones. The other three children were smaller in size, but none under eight pounds. None of the deliveries were overly taxing to Giada’s body, which was a great relief to everyone.

  Giada did eventually finish law school. Yet instead of operating a full-time legal practice, she became a consultant for law firms and clients that needed someone with a critical eye for contractual loopholes.

  No assault charges were ever filed against Kentucky, just as Sean predicted. Champ the bodyguard didn’t file any. Nor did Fabian.

  Speaking of Fabian, he semiretired from the music business in shame. His record sales plunged when pictures of the incident at Giada’s apartment hit every media outlet, including the Internet.

  The cell phone taping of the incident by a neighbor was most damaging of all since it allowed viewers to see and hear Fabian’s cowardice. As a result, the singer could barely find work performing jingles for radio ads.

  Bartley found new clients to represent. Now he specializes in gay and lesbian celebrities.

  Lloyd the PI came forward and gave Kentucky information about Fabian’s connection to Jamie. That data was never used, but filed away in case it ever had to be used.

  Finally, The Love of Kentucky went on to become one of the nation’s bestsellers. It provided even more financial stability for the boarding school, which is continuing to flourish.

  In that book, Kentucky shared the true story about how he made it out of the war-torn zones of Africa and back to the woman he loved. By now everyone knew that Kentucky’s love was none other than Giada, whom he is still having his happily-ever-after with to this day.

  The End

  Letter to Readers

  I wrote Pretty Packages during a highly emotional two-week period in my life. It was the Christmas season, and I was upset with a close relative about something, which I truly can’t remember exactly what it was now, and just needed a release. I needed a positive outlet to just pour out all the emotions I was feeling at the time. Thus all the highly emotional scenes in Pretty Packages. Thus all the heated arguments . . . and heated other stuff.

  *chuckle*

  Although the story line evolved on its own, with very little plotting on my end, a clear message emerged therein. That message: Find out what’s really important in life.

  In Giada’s case, she had to learn that looks and material things weren’t all they were cracked up to be in the grand scheme of things. That the love of a good man was more important. That giving was more important than receiving.

  Did you see those messages? I hope so.

  In conclusion, I pray that the single ladies who read Pretty Packages start looking at the ordinary men around them in a different light after this story. That they don’t pass up or pass by their Kentuckys like Giada almost did.

  Be blessed forever.

  Suprina Frazier/Mi’Chelle Dodson

  About the Author

  A firm believer in happy-ever-afters, Mi’Chelle Dodson takes great pleasure in creating such happy endings via the enthralling and unforgettable stories she writes. Since all of her books are threaded throughout with golden nuggets of wisdom, readers are often able to take those nuggets and apply them to their real lives. That equals a win/win situation for everyone!

  In Mi’Chelle’s real life, she is known as Suprina Frazier, friend to many and mother of two. Always thrilled to hear from readers, she can be contacted at: http://suprinafrazier.webs.com/.