by H. H. Fowler
This craziness had all started when she’d run away from home at nineteen and with nowhere else to crash, she’d eventually sought comfort under a public bridge. Armando found her by accident, as he was in search for somewhere to set up his singing gig. He wasn’t as good looking then as he was now, but he was a gifted conversationalist, who small-talked her to death, and then tried to use psychology to get her to spill the beans about her dysfunctional background.
Once that failed, he’d offered to share his lunch with her – a half of a baloney sandwich that was so dry that Rena was tempted to roll it up and sock him in the face with it. She only ate it because she was hungry and hadn’t any money to buy anything else. Nonetheless, Armando’s kind gestures sparked an unlikely friendship between two teenagers who hadn’t any idea what to do with the budding chemistry.
Rena’s so-called friends – those with whom she’d smoked and drank alcohol like it was going out of style – had suddenly kicked her to the curb because she no longer had a place to entertain their destructive habits. Her sanctimonious father wouldn’t have allowed them to indulge in their wild parties anyway. Lucky for her, Armando went out his way to assist her, convincing one of his neighborhood friends to let her stay in a spare room until she was able to get on her feet.
For five months, Armando visited her every day and divided the money he’d made during his singing gigs between them. She’d even accompanied him sometimes and helped him with his act – even though she couldn’t hold a tune if someone was willing to pay her rent for the rest of the year. But by the time she was ready to pursue her dreams in the film industry, she was able to save almost six hundred dollars – all because of Armando’s help.
Those five months they were together (as friends, of course) were the best times of her life and she’d never really found another man quite like Armando. He’d raised the bar on what it meant to care for someone. Maybe that was the reason she rejected the pursuits of other men, because she compared them constantly to the traits she’d seen in Armando.
Back then, music was Armando’s world and she could see that it still was, as he was coming to Devin’s Cay to put on a Soca concert. As a matter of fact, if Rena remembered correctly from the trailer, the concert was set to begin in three days. So that meant Armando could be in Devin’s Cay at this very moment or he could still be en route from Trinidad and Tobago. In any event, Rena wanted to be long gone before news got out that she was in town, as if that mattered. Armando probably didn’t even remember her name, much less how she looked.
With a labored sigh, she picked up her copy of the will and walked over to the bed to peruse it for the hundredth time. One point nine million dollars was a lot of money. She could do a lot with it, including the opening of her own film studio. She could even purchase a larger home and put the current one she was living in up for sale. But her mind kept harking back to the question: Could she really let Drake walk away with the bulk of her father’s estate?
Could she watch him thrive on an inheritance that ‘rightfully’ belonged to her? It was a hard pill to swallow. Maybe if she hadn’t been forced to remember Armando’s kindness, she wouldn’t have been so torn in her decision. However, a decision must be made and be made quickly. She didn’t intend to be in Devin’s Cay for that much longer. She picked up the phone and pressed 007 for room service. This was yet another evening she didn’t feel like leaving the comforts of her room.
“A pleasant good evening, ma’am,” came the polite voice over the phone. “May I have your room number?”
“Don’t you recognize my voice?” Rena snapped. “I’ve been giving you my room number all week.”
“Would you be so kind as to –”
“For the last time,” Rena interrupted, “I’m staying on the fifth floor, in room 5020. Let that be the last time I repeat that to you.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am…and what would you like to order?”
“The same thing I’ve ordered every evening.”
“Ma’am?”
Rena rolled her eyes to express her annoyance. “A cucumber sandwich on rye with a glass of Merlot. I also want half of a pineapple, cut into bite-size pieces. Please note, if I have to wait longer than twenty minutes for this order, I don’t want it.”
“Yes, ma’am. We’ll do our best to get it to you.”
****
“The only other vacant suites that we have available are on the fifth floor,” the hotel clerk explained to Armando’s concert planner. She was a woman in her late fifties with a beehive hairstyle that she hadn’t changed in fifteen years. And because of this, those closest to her nicknamed her Ms. Hive.
“Do you want to make reservations for another room?” the clerk prompted after Ms. Hive hadn’t returned with a response. “And like I said, if you prefer a suite, the only other vacant ones are on the fifth floor.”
Ms. Hive merged her brows in confusion. “I don’t understand. These reservations were made over a month ago. How is it that we are short one suite?”
“We require a deposit within seven days of making the reservation,” The clerk informed, as her fingers moved quickly over the keyboard. “The system is showing that there were two rooms paid for on August 18th – three days after the reservation was made.”
“But I’m sure Mr. Beckford’s administrative office sent payments for all three rooms.”
“I don’t see a third room under your name,” the clerk reaffirmed. “Maybe it’s under a different name.”
Ms. Hive turned her attention to the crew who’d accompanied Armando to Devin’s Cay for the upcoming concert. There were twelve of them in total. Five band members, four backup singers, along with herself, Armando and his wife. They were going to need more than two rooms, especially since Armando’s wife had come along for the ride. Annalise Beckford was not the easiest person to get along with when it came to her husband. For one thing, she never allowed him out of her sight, much less share a room with the crew. Annalise wanted Armando all to herself, despite being aware of the celebrity status of her husband. Ms. Hive frowned heavily upon such selfish behavior.
“Myself and the crew have no other choice except to take the suites on the second floor,” she said. She pulled out an Amex credit card and handed it to the clerk. “Please secure one of those suites on the fifth floor for Mr. Beckford and his wife.”
“And you’re positive the third room isn’t in another name?”
“I don’t know…maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check.”
“Okay…under whose name am I checking?”
“Annalise Beckford.”
“Give me one minute.” The clerk’s nimble fingers went back to work, flying over the keyboard. “Well,” she said after a few minutes, “I can confirm that there is a reservation under that name and that the room has already been checked into on the fifth floor.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Ms. Hive said. “When the hell did she have time to do that?”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, honey; that wasn’t directed at you,” Ms. Hive assured. “I was thinking out aloud…I wasn’t expecting to hear that.”
But Ms. Hive should have expected that Annalise would do something like this. Armando gave her too much say in the scheduling of his events.
The clerk handed Ms. Hive her Amex card back and said, “I’m sorry, but it looks as if I won’t need that card, since the room was already paid for by Annalise Beckford.”
“I have no problem with that.” Ms. Hive pushed her card back into her wallet and masked her irritation with a smile. “Excuse me. I need to make a call.”
She punched in Armando’s cell phone number, only to be greeted by Annalise’s voice. Ms. Hive was tempted to hang up, but she knew Annalise would call back.
“Hello, Annalise…”
“I’m Mrs. Beckford now,” Annalise said. “And yes…how can I help?”
Ms. Hive shook her head at the display of such high-handedness. She wouldn’t dare raise the issue with
this woman. “May I have a word with your husband?”
“Not now, Ms. Hive. He’s busy.”
“Well, have him call me when he has a little time.”
“What is it you want?”
“It’s nothing, Anna…excuse me, Mrs. Beckford. I’ll handle it.”
“That’s what he’s paying you to do,” Annalise said. “And please, if it’s not a pressing matter, don’t disturb us. You got that?”
“Of course...” Ms. Hive gnashed her teeth as she heard Annalise disconnect from the line. The rest of Ms. Hive’s words flew under the radar of her breath. “Someone should poison that nut and leave her to rot in the bushes.”
Love is like a rose. It looks beautiful on the outside…but there is always pain hidden somewhere.
Anatole France
Chapter Seven
Thursday Morning – 6:15 a.m.
“I love the way you smell…” Shiloh rubbed her lips against Kevin’s neck, her long, silky hair, covering her face. “I was so right about you.”
Kevin closed his eyes in response to the sensation. They were in his living room, having ripped each other’s clothes off and indulged in an intense gratification of the flesh. Kevin could barely remember her last name, but that didn’t mean a thing to him when it came down to appeasing his sexual appetite.
“Right about what?” he whispered.
Shiloh sat up and tossed her hair behind her shoulders. “That you wouldn’t be much of a challenge for me. I knew once I got you alone, you would want to have sex with me.”
Kevin didn’t know if he should be confused or upset with that statement. “That is pretty arrogant of you to say.”
“Oh please, Kevin. You were easy and you know it. The fact that we didn’t make it to your bedroom showed how badly you wanted me. I could place a check beside your name and write mission accomplished.”
Kevin pushed up on his elbows. “So I was just an experiment to you?”
Shiloh giggled in that priggish voice of hers. “How old are you? Nineteen? Twenty?”
“I’m twenty-three.”
“Same difference.”
“What’s your point?”
“You’re naïve and a little desperate and it shows even in your work. I could talk to Brier and Sydney, if you want.”
Kevin scoffed. “My having sex with you does not give you the right to interfere with my job. I work hard for what I want and I don’t need you offering me any help.”
“Are you sure? Because you must remember that you’re a young, black man, working for white corporate America. How far do you think you will get in ten years? VP over a small group maybe, but rarely a significant position such as senior partner over a prestigious accounting firm such as Brier and Co. I can help you. Do you know who my father is?”
“I don’t care who the hell your father is. I will not accept any handouts, especially from a woman who is just using me for sex…”
Kevin’s clock alarm burst into an annoying chime, pulling him from the quagmire of Shiloh’s grip. He was relieved, to say the least, even though his alarm was in need of repair for the countless number of times he’d slapped it to the floor. He pressed the snooze button and then cast his troubling gaze toward the ceiling. Dreaming about the first time he’d had sex with Shiloh was a dangerous sign and he did not like the feeling it produced. It felt like a foreboding that was lying in wait to destroy his life. But he need not have asked why he was suddenly having dreams about Shiloh. It was obvious that his recent encounters with her were having a negative effect on his psyche.
In all honesty, he cared not to remember anything about his past with Shiloh, especially how she claimed she’d gotten pregnant by him and had gotten an abortion before telling him about it. Yet, there was this nagging trend of thought that kept Kevin’s curiosity aroused. Had Shiloh really helped him make partner with Brier and Co. accounting firm? She’d alluded to it before she’d walked out of his life and then a second time a few weeks ago at Hunter’s Jewelry Showcase.
Again, he reminded himself, if there was any hint of truth in what Shiloh said, that would mean that his rise into the ‘elite’ circle had been manipulated by that witch and not because of his hard work. But did it really matter now? He was partner at one of the most prestigious firms in Tampa, Florida and he had a decent track record that could validate such an accomplishment. However, it did matter to Kevin, especially how his future was being controlled.
Shiloh was now offering him twenty-five million dollars to buy out his partners and become the sole owner of Brier and Co. and of course he could always change the company’s name to something else. A tempting offer it was, because it had been a long held dream of Kevin’s to one day control his own firm. Be that as it may, the devil was in the details. Shiloh made it clear that in order for him to receive this golden opportunity, he must convince Hunter to either sell the Hunter Rose Collection to her or create a merger that would, practically take away Hunter’s hold on the jewelry market.
Kevin didn’t know which was worse: Keeping Shiloh a secret from Hunter or him actually considering Shiloh’s offer. Twenty-five million dollars was a lot of cash to wave in front of his partners. The fact that he and his partners had hired transitional consultants to assist in expanding the sales area of the firm, indicated that Shiloh’s offer made good business sense. Together, Brier, Sydney and Sam may own about eighty percent of the shares, but Kevin knew their value was less than ten million dollars. Maybe nine million but not more than ten. He could offer twenty million, like Shiloh suggested and still leave with about five million dollars to lean on. But even if his partners didn’t bite, he would have twenty-five million dollars sitting in the bank.
Quite the predicament he was in and Kevin felt pressured to make a decision before Hunter showed up in Tampa tomorrow. His intention was to tell Hunter about his stormy past with Shiloh and about the baby he never got to see. But he had no idea how to say to Hunter that Shiloh wanted control of the Hunter Rose Collection. It was a deception that Kevin knew Hunter would detect in an instant. Shiloh was a ruthless business rival and not only in the jewelry industry. Why on earth would Hunter even consider selling her highly-successful company to Shiloh? And the fact that Shiloh was a flirtatious female with an obvious agenda, had already put Hunter on alert.
Kevin swung his feet to the floor, trying to mentally prepare himself for the task ahead. Certainly, this was one of those times when one’s past came back to bite them squarely in the butt. A sigh escaped him as he reached over to his dresser and picked up a small jewelry box. In it was an engagement ring, a three-carat diamond, attached to white gold. An expensive piece he’d picked out of the Hunter Rose Collection. Hunter should be thrilled to know that one of her own masterpieces had had her name on it since the day it was crafted and that it would always remind her of the commitment she’d made to him.
Yet, there was a huge ‘what if’ circulating in Kevin’s mind. Like what if he told Hunter the truth about everything and in the process, ended up losing Hunter for good? That was a terrible thing to envision and even worse, to experience. But he would rather lose Hunter by telling her the truth than to let Shiloh inflict the damage. That thought made Kevin grab his cell phone from beneath a pillow. When the velvety voice came through the receiver, he immediately attempted to derail the inevitable.
“You should know that your grace period is quickly running out,” Shiloh said. “I was expecting to hear from you two weeks ago.”
“I’m surprised that you’re even awake at this time of the morning,” Kevin said in response. “But I would rather believe that you couldn’t sleep because of all the wicked deeds you’ve done.”
Shiloh laughed. “I’m awake because I was making out with my sexy husband. He’s a six two, strapping hunk of flesh, with a nice round butt. You should meet him one day. Anyway, it’s a send-off gift, as he’s preparing to go back to Dubai in a few hours.”
Kevin ignored Shiloh’s attempt to get a rise out of him,
as if describing another man’s physique mattered to him. “You’ve been in Tampa all this time?”
“Of course. You didn’t think I’d leave without hearing from you, did you? Besides, my husband was busy closing another one of those multi-million-dollar deals.”
“How lucky for him,” Kevin said dryly.
“Don’t be jealous, darling. The time we spent together will always be in my heart. You know that.”
Kevin bit his lip to keep from cussing. “Listen, I’m letting you know that I can’t go through with it, not at the risk of losing Hunter.”
“You say that as if you have a choice,” Shiloh quipped. “Hunter will get over your lies and even if she doesn’t, you don’t need her. But you must try and convince her that it is more profitable for the Hunter Rose Collection to be backed by my business acumen. Together, we can penetrate any market in any country. A horizontal merger is best, I believe, if you don’t think she will accept an outright acquisition.”
“Like I told you before, Hunter is a very smart woman. She would not want to be in business with you, no matter how you fix it.”
“You won’t know until you try, will you? I’m giving you twenty-four hours and if I don’t hear from you by then…well, you already know what I’m capable of. I don’t need to waste my breath explaining anything to you.”
Kevin heard the click sound in his ear. Talking to Shiloh made him sick to his stomach. He was relieved that she’d hung up, but if that whore thought for one minute that he would simply bend to her ridiculous demand, she was sadly mistaken. To hell with her and her twenty-five million. All the money in the world wasn’t worth his happiness. With a renewed determination, Kevin pushed to his feet and made his way to the bathroom.
Chapter Eight
9:11 a.m.
Suanne swayed back and forth in her favorite rocking chair, giving Annalise one of those “I-know-what-you-up-to” looks. There was a helluva lot she could say about Armando’s irrational decision to marry a woman who was almost a decade older than him, but Suanne kept her mouth pinned out of respect for her son’s wishes. But how long did Armando expect her to remain mute about such foolishness? He knew she could not stand a woman being older than her husband, especially by so many years.