Date Cute Marry Rich

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Date Cute Marry Rich Page 16

by Alexis Nicole


  It was about time! I’d been thinking about this for almost two months now. It was just that I could never find the right time to ask him. But tonight he was coming over to my place, my territory, and we were going to have a fantastic dinner and everything else that followed.

  Already the music was playing. Antonio loved salsa, especially Héctor Lavoe. I laid the spread that I’d picked up from the Caribbean House on the warming tray at the center of the table. I’d told Antonio that I’d fix dinner for him, but he knew what that meant. Lawd knows, he didn’t want me cooking. I could whip up a fierce hairstyle, but in the kitchen it was all about making reservations and good takeout!

  As I moved back toward the kitchen, I stopped and glanced at the velvet box that I’d left on the buffet table. I couldn’t help but smile as I picked it up. When I peeked inside, my smile became even wider. There it was. The shiny silver key that I’d had made just for Antonio. I was pretty sure that Antonio was going to say yes. I mean, it made perfect sense—we spent most of our time together, anyway, and the money we could save was major. I earned way more than Antonio, and this would give him a chance to save some money. And if he could save some money, he’d be able to go after his dream. That was what I wanted for my man.

  So, if this made so much sense, why did I have a bunch of butterflies fluttering around in my stomach?

  And then my doorbell rang, and those butterflies really took off.

  Until I opened the door and looked at my man. Mr. Dark and Lovely. Mr. Antonio. Wearing his signature all black. I swear, he needed to trademark that look. No one else in the world should ever be able to wear all black because my man wore it so well.

  “Hey, baby,” he said and hugged me.

  Oh, yeah. This was going to be a very good night.

  “This is for you,” he said, handing me a bottle of wine.

  “You mean, this is for us, right?”

  He laughed. “Whatever.”

  Antonio followed me into the dining room, and his eyes got big when he saw the spread I’d prepared—well, not prepared, but it looked like I had.

  “This looks fabulous, and it’s a good thing, because I’m starving!” Antonio rubbed his hands together and sat down.

  I placed a plate in front of him, then one at the setting right next to him. And after I served him, we feasted on the fantastic Caribbean meal. By the time I finished my first glass of wine, every single butterfly inside of me was dead. I was fine, and I knew that Antonio and I would be fine, too.

  Antonio filled me in on work and a new deal he had just signed with another team, and that was when I popped the question.

  “Antonio, where do you see yourself in the future?” I asked. “I mean, when you look down the line, am I there?”

  “You know you are important to me. We’ve talked about this.”

  “I know you get busy, but if you could, would you like to spend more time together?”

  Antonio took a long sip of wine. “Of course I would, but you know how it is. I’m working extremely hard so I can keep up with everything I got going on right now.”

  He’d said the magic words—exactly what I was waiting to hear. I stood from the table, grabbed the box from the buffet, and then handed it to my man.

  It took a moment for Antonio to open it—he was so busy staring at me, as if he was scared to open it.

  “That’s for you,” I said. “Something to help you with your dream.”

  It took him a couple of seconds to flip the box open, and then he frowned. “A key?” he asked, as if he’d thought it was going to be something else.

  “Yeah!” I said and clapped my hands. “To my place. To here. I want you to move in with me.”

  Antonio sat so still, not saying a word, not doing anything.

  Okay . . . that was not the reaction I expected. I mean, it wasn’t like I really thought that he was going to get up and do the happy dance, but I was expecting something more—at least a smile.

  Finally, Antonio did smile and I breathed again.

  “You can move in here,” I said. “That way your workload won’t be so tedious, because your expenses won’t be as high. And we would have more time together.” I knelt down beside him. “I just want you to be happy. I want us to stay happy.”

  There were tears in his eyes when he looked down at me. “You would do this for me?”

  “Yes. Don’t you know how I feel about you?”

  He nodded. “And I feel the same way.” He took a deep breath and said, “But I can’t do this.” He closed the box. “I can’t move in with you.”

  Stop the presses! What did this man just say to me?

  “I have a lot of love for you, Devin. I really do. But it’s too soon for us to be making a major move like this.”

  “Too soon? How many months has it been?”

  “Exactly. It’s only been months. I think we’ve got to really get to know one another. I think I’d like to be with you at least a year before I even start thinking that way.”

  A year? Dang! Why that long? It didn’t even take a year to have a baby. Why would it take him a year to know if he wanted to be with me?

  “And it’s not just my year rule that I’m thinking about,” Antonio went on to explain. “I’m just not settled enough—not at work, not in my life—and I wouldn’t want to bring that drama and stress to you.”

  “What are you talking about? We talk to each other every day. We go out twice a week. I’m already completely in your life.”

  “But every night you get to go home and not have to deal with all of me.” He took my hand. “Trust me. It is much better this way. It is much better for us.”

  I wasn’t really feeling Antonio’s answer. I mean, I thought we were close enough to do this, but I guess I was wrong. I guess I’d read this whole thing wrong.

  “I want you to know, Devin, that I’m not saying no. I’m just saying not right now.”

  Well, that was a little better . . . but still.

  A couple of seconds passed before I said, “Well, then give me back my key.” I said it as a joke that was meant to make both of us laugh, make both of us feel better. It worked. He laughed, and I did, too, though I wasn’t really laughing inside. I wasn’t crying, either. I mean, I was a big boy. But I was disappointed.

  That was okay, though. Antonio and I would still have a good time. We would see what would happen after a year. And who knows? By then, he might be begging me to come live with him.

  I poured another glass of wine for both of us, and then we sat on the couch together and talked away the rest of the night.

  Chapter 31

  Chyanne

  I’d made a lot of decisions in the last three months, but none were bigger than what I was going to do today.

  I’d hired a car for the occasion—not that today was special in that kind of a way. But I didn’t know what was going to happen afterward, and I didn’t want to be waiting for a cab.

  Inside the car I rubbed my belly. It was getting harder and harder to hide my pregnancy, but after today that wouldn’t be a problem.

  We were stuck in traffic, but I didn’t mind. I’d given myself an extra thirty minutes to get downtown. I’d be on time. Looking out the window, I thought about all that Kayla had told me. It was almost like we were friends now—though, we really weren’t. Really, I never wanted to speak to her again. Not that I was mad at her. It was just weird. But what was weird for me wasn’t weird for her. She wanted to include me in all the details of her divorce, which was far from cordial.

  It had begun when she served Malcolm with the papers. It seemed that Kayla had a flair for the dramatic—down to something as mundane as serving papers. She could have just told Malcolm when he came home one night. But no . . . she waited until the monthly partners meeting and then had the server make a big deal serving Malcolm the petition for divorce in front of his partners and the staff.

  Kayla told me that by the time Malcolm stomped out of the office and made it to their West
chester home, his clothes had been tossed across the front lawn, the locks had been changed, and she’d left a note taped to the front door that said simply: Dear Malcolm: I’m done!

  It was very Waiting to Exhale-ish!

  And so, the first blow went to Kayla. At least, that was what she told me when she’d called to give me the news that the divorce proceedings had begun.

  “So, you know you’re in this with us, right?” she’d asked.

  I knew what she meant. I could join them . . . with or without a subpoena.

  “I hate to ask you to do this for me, Chyanne,” she had said to me. “But really, he messed over you, too.”

  She was right about that. Malcolm had messed over me. And with this baby that I was carrying, I needed to remember that.

  But one thing I could have told Kayla was that Malcolm wasn’t about to take this sitting down. If I knew nothing else about the man I’d slept with, I knew that he was a fighter who believed only in winning.

  I was right. The divorce that I had once told Skye and Devin would be cordial turned into a war. Kayla and Malcolm had been battling it out—he was trying to enforce the prenup, and she was telling him to go to hell! He wasn’t budging, and neither was she.

  That was where I came in—the secret weapon. Kayla had never once mentioned Malcolm’s infidelity, and so he was sure that he was going to win this in front of the magistrate. But while Malcolm was sitting back, believing that he had the victory, Kayla’s attorneys had me in meeting after meeting, going over the details of my affair with Malcolm. They asked me how many times we were together, how many trips we’d taken, how many gifts he’d given to me. It was all so personal, so difficult to speak about, and so very embarrassing.

  But I’d gotten through those days with my head up. Though, I didn’t think they were really any preparation for what I had to go through today. This was going to be much worse. It was all about to hit the fan.

  In front of the courthouse, the driver gave me his card to call him when my testimony was complete.

  “I’m hoping I’m not going to be more than an hour,” I told him. “But I’m not sure.”

  I knew how legal proceedings went, though I’d never been part of something like this before. I was used to litigating in front of judges and juries. This was more of a civil matter, family court, and was handled much differently.

  I moved slowly up the courthouse steps, feeling the extra weight of my baby. It might have all been in my mind. Maybe it was just a trick to delay my getting to the courtroom. But there was nothing that was going to be able to keep me away, and just five minutes after I’d been dropped off in front of the courthouse, I stood in front of Room 721.

  Marvin had told me to wait on the bench right outside of the room until he came out to get me. They wanted me to make an appearance, and part of me wanted to make an appearance, too. I couldn’t wait to see Malcolm’s face when I walked in there, and I wondered if he would take back his thank-you—the thank-you he had given me for not telling his wife.

  But while I felt a lot of satisfaction at what was about to go down, there was a part of me that felt sorry. I had shared a lot of good times with Malcolm. He’d given me a lot of joy for more than a year. But there was no way for me to find happiness in that time, because he was married. That was a point that I just could not get around.

  The door to the courtroom opened suddenly, and Marvin stepped out.

  “You ready?”

  I popped up from the bench and nodded.

  “Don’t worry,” he said to me. “You’re well prepared.”

  And I’m an attorney, I said to myself. I know what to expect.

  So, I followed Marvin into the catastrophe that had become my life.

  The one thing that I hadn’t allowed myself to think about was what Malcolm would do when he saw me. The moment I walked into that room, Malcolm gasped. And then he started coughing and coughing and coughing . . . as if he had suddenly caught something.

  On one side, I saw Malcolm’s attorney asking him if he was all right. On the other side, Marvin was leading me to the chair where I would speak to the magistrate.

  From that point on, I kept my eyes away from Malcolm. Instead, I focused on the woman who swore me in, and then I kept my eyes on Marvin.

  “For the record,” he said to me, “would you state your full name?”

  “Chyanne Brielle Monroe.”

  Marvin smiled, as if he thought I needed to be reassured. “Do you know Malcolm Parks?”

  “Yes. He’s my boss at Bailey, Booker, and Smith.”

  “Do you know him in any other capacity?”

  I nodded, took a deep breath, and said, “I was involved . . . personally . . . with Mr. Parks.”

  “By personally, do you mean that you had an affair with him?”

  “Yes,” I said, trying to keep my voice strong. “I had an affair with him, though I didn’t know I was having an affair. I didn’t know that he was married.”

  “So you worked with him and didn’t know that?”

  I shook my head. “No. He didn’t wear a wedding ring, and there were no pictures on his desk or anywhere in his office. I even visited his apartment, his condo, a few times, and there was nothing that led me to believe that he was married.”

  “What about gossip?” Marvin asked, as if he couldn’t believe my answers. But I knew that he did. We’d rehearsed these over and over again, and like a good attorney, he knew exactly what I was going to say. “Didn’t anyone in the office pull you aside when they found out about you and Mr. Parks?”

  “Malcolm told me that I couldn’t let anyone at the firm know about us, because it could cost both of us our jobs. And since working at Bailey, Booker, and Smith was my first position out of law school, I didn’t want to take that chance.”

  “So, you met Mr. Parks at work?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he was your boss?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you feel like you were taken advantage of?”

  If this had been any kind of trial, Malcolm’s attorney would have been on his feet, objecting. But this was a hearing. And, anyway, Malcolm’s attorney would get his chance to make me look like a fool.

  “Ms. Monroe,” Marvin said. “Do you need me to repeat the question?”

  “No.” For the first time I looked at Malcolm, and my heart melted. His eyes were as sad as mine, and I could see his hurt. But didn’t he know how much he had hurt me? Though, I wasn’t here because of that. I was here because his wife had tracked me down. I never did ask Kayla how she’d known about me. I had a feeling it was just a wife’s intuition. “In some ways, I do feel as if Mr. Parks took advantage of me. He lied to me by omitting the fact that he was married, and he lied about why we had to keep our relationship a secret.”

  Marvin smiled, but then I did something that we hadn’t practiced.

  “But even with all of that, I’m a grown woman and should have seen some of the signs.” The color drained from Marvin’s face when I said that, but he didn’t have to worry. I was about to give him a gift. “But no matter who took advantage of whom, the fact remains that I had a yearlong relationship with Malcolm Parks. And now”—I rested my hand on my belly—“I’m going to have his baby.”

  This time it was Malcolm who lost the color in his face.

  “Thank you,” Marvin said, and he really did need to thank me. He had told me that he wanted to tell the magistrate that I was pregnant, and I had shut that down before. I didn’t want my baby to be any part of this. But at just this moment I decided to tell the whole truth. I had nothing to be ashamed of. Malcolm was going to find out, anyway.

  When Marvin sat down, I took a deep breath and braced myself for Malcolm’s attorney. But as the man stood, Malcolm put his hand on his arm and whispered in his ear. My heart pounded; Malcolm was about to come after me—hard.

  But what was he going to say? Every word I’d spoken was true.

  Then the attorney said, “Your Honor, I
have no questions for this witness.”

  On one side of the room, I thought Kayla was about to jump up and dance, knowing that this meant victory. Malcolm was not going to deny his infidelity. On the other side, Malcolm sat defeated, though his eyes never left mine.

  The magistrate told me that I could leave and informed the others that there would be a short recess.

  Pushing back my chair, I was hardly standing before Kayla was in front of me. “Thank you,” she said, shaking my hand so hard, I thought it was going to fall off. “Thank you so much.”

  I just nodded, because I didn’t have any words to say. I wasn’t there by my own volition. I’d been forced there by her.

  I stepped around the table and moved toward the door—which meant that I had to pass Malcolm’s table. Good. I needed to. I needed to speak to him, if only for a moment.

  “Chyanne,” he whispered as I got closer. “You’re pregnant?” His eyes were now on the center of me, the place where I carried his child.

  I nodded.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t know what the point was. You were married. But now I’ve seen things a bit differently.” I reached into my purse and took out two envelopes. Handing them both to him, I said, “I’m sorry. But I was only telling the truth.”

  “What’s this?”

  “My resignation. And an order for child support. I’m putting your name on my baby’s birth certificate.”

  I didn’t wait to see his reaction. I just marched toward the door, keeping my head up and my hand on my belly. But once outside, I had to pause for a moment just to catch my breath, just to get my bearings.

  What had happened in that courtroom was one of the most difficult things I’d ever had to do, and at the same time, I felt as if a weight had been taken from my shoulders.

  It was over.

  There were still many things I had to do—like find a new job . . . and an apartment, because I didn’t want to spend all my savings on such a high rental place. Devin had found a few places in Brooklyn, which I was going to check out, and I prayed that something good would come through. I had a feeling that I was going to be fine, though.

 

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