by Liv Bennett
“Have you heard from Emmett?” I whisper, needing a distraction to ease my pain.
“Yes. He sent Penelope’s remains to Buenos Aires to her family.”
“Oh!” Another pang of pain crosses my chest. I had no idea Penelope’s parents weren’t from California, although I’m sure she mentioned them to me a few times. How did her parents react when they learned their daughter killed herself? How must her siblings be feeling over her unexpected death? My stomach tightens in an urge to expel its contents.
As the minister speaks his last words to honor Theresa’s departure from this earth, I drop a red rose on her coffin, struggling hard to contain my tears and regret. After hugging the guests and offering them my home whenever they’d like to see Preston, I head for my limo.
As I get into the car with Julie, I hear Scarlet’s voice and look through the window to see her running toward us. I haven’t seen her since our last encounter in the hospital, not that I’ve wanted to. My conflicting feelings toward her make it hard for me to make a decision regarding our relationship.
“Zane, do you have a minute?” she asks and enters the car without a response from me, her fingers clutching a black dossier.
“Hello Scarlet,” Julie says with a gentle tone in her voice, from her seat across from me.
“Hi Julie.” Scarlet quickly turns to me and hands me the dossier. “You need to see this.”
“What is it?” Frowning, I open the dossier, but glance at Scarlet rather than the papers inside it.
“The paternity test results,” Scarlet says flatly. “You’re not the father.”
All of a sudden, the world stops spinning, and I feel like the walls of the car are closing in on me, taking my last breath away.
“I know what I did is probably illegal, and I understand if you get mad at me for going behind your back, but I had to know.” Scarlet keeps on talking but her words barely register in my mind. The only thing that matters at this moment is the motherless baby boy whose life depends on me.
For some reason I was hesitant about running a paternity test, and now I see why. I so wanted to father this boy and make the world a better place for him… Now without the chance of securing a happy life for Theresa’s baby, I feel my last hope to become a decent person has been ripped from my hands.
Now, another man, possibly an earlier version of me, unappreciative of the life granted to him, will turn my son’s life into a misery.
“You don’t need to raise him.” Scarlet’s words interrupt my struggling thoughts. “He has a father who should be the primary caregiver. You can’t take that right from the biological father just because you feel responsible for this boy.”
“I wish you hadn’t done that.” Words leave my mouth layered with anger. Now I have no leeway to keep the boy with me. A lot of men father kids of other men without knowing. Why couldn’t I be one of those men?
Julie shifts in her seat and leans forward to say, “We still don’t know who the father is. The news about Theresa’s death and Preston was in the papers and all over the internet yesterday. No one has come forward to claim Preston so far. And, if no one does for a certain period of time, we can still get the court to declare you the father.” She’s reassuring, as always, and a ray of hope slithers back into my heart.
Scarlet makes a noise of discontent. “I’m sure if we mention Zane’s name as the current custodian, more people will come forward to claim him.”
“You mean to demand money from Zane?” Julie snorts. “Are you seriously willing to hand the baby to someone who’d rather make money out of the deal than raise him properly?”
“Of course not!” Scarlet protests and looks at me with a determined stare. “All I’m saying is that the baby deserves to get to know his real father.”
“Doesn’t matter if he’s a drug dealer or a pimp selling women? I’m sure Preston won’t regret the chance to visit his real daddy in prison, while growing up in a foster home.” Julie’s sarcasm has no limits, which I guess has to do with the emotional stress of the funeral.
Ignoring Julie’s comment, Scarlet moves closer to me. She parts her lips and gives me a tentative kiss. I let her, to taste her lips and see if it feels the same, although Julie is a foot away from me and witnessing our little make-out. The kiss doesn’t feel intimate or arousing. It feels flat and emotionless as if we hadn’t shared months of wild, animal sex.
Sliding back on the seat, Scarlet reaches for the door. “It’s your decision, Zane. If you care anything about this boy, you’d give him to his real father.” And just like that, she climbs out.
Julie snaps the document out of my hand while I gape after Scarlet. I close the door, not feeling up to looking Julie in the face, and instead ask Daney to drive us to work.
“I kind of expected it.” Julie exhales loudly after examining the paper and changing seats to sit next to me. Perhaps, she, too, wants to avoid facing me. “We have two mysteries to solve; Preston’s biological father and Theresa’s death,” she says, hiding the dismay I’m sure she feels about the kiss she just witnessed.
I can’t help frowning, since I didn’t know there was a mystery behind Theresa’s death.
Seeing my confusion, she adds, “I’m not exactly convinced Theresa was stupid enough to inhale such a dangerous amount of drugs. From what Carl found out about her, she was using drugs on and off for longer than a year before the pregnancy, then stopped when she got pregnant. It sounds very suspicious that after staying clean for several months, she’d endanger herself and her child. Doesn’t make sense to me.”
“So, you’re saying, someone tried to kill her?” I ask.
“Not just someone, but I think it’s the other girl who tried to get pregnant from you.”
“Beverly?” I try to absorb the information and mentally compare the image of the innocent-looking girl who did her best to please me to that of a murderer.
“Yeah, that one. Carl got access to the recordings of surveillance cameras of the bar for the night of Theresa’s death. Theresa didn’t enter the bathroom with Ben, the man whose photos Carl showed us. It was Beverly who appeared on the camera footage.”
“Are you sure about that?” My jaw clenches in shock and anger in response to Julie’s confident nod. Can a person be vindictive enough to endanger a friend and an unborn baby’s life? Then again, why am I even surprised? I had Michael as my father and my personal torturer. If a father can harm his child on a whim, why shouldn’t a good friend?
“It seems, Theresa, Ben and Beverly were childhood friends. They came up with this plan of hooking up with a wealthy guy to bring an end to their poverty. Ben is officially Beverly’s boyfriend; but, he admitted having slept with Theresa on multiple occasions around the time you slept with her.”
“He may very well be the biological father?” I ask.
“Yes. I didn’t ask him for a mouth swab to run a paternity test out of respect for your decision to father Preston, but now that the cat is out of the bag…”
“Tell him I want to see him in my office today,” I order with a rather commanding voice and note the slight widening of Julie’s eyes at my tone.
“Sure. I’ll ask Carl to contact him right away.” She picks up her phone from her purse and dials Carl.
In two hours, Carl shows up in my office with a tall, thin, and dark-haired guy from the photos. Ben Mayhem is what he likes to call himself, while his real name is Benjamin Gomez.
I order both men to come in and ask Julie to join us.
Ben approaches my desk in tentative steps and offers his hand. The dirt beneath his long nails makes me suspicious as to whether he washes his hands after using the bathroom. Ignoring his gesture, I lead them to take seats on the chairs before my desk. Each sits on either side of Julie, facing me.
Leaning back against my chair, I stare at the young boy with a critical look. “I assume you know who I am.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why don’t you tell us everything from the beginning?”
With an uncomfortable look, he glances at Carl and upon Carl’s nod, he starts, “The girls, I mean, Theresa and Beverly had this crazy idea of getting pregnant by a celebrity. They had a list of twenty, twenty-five guys. I don’t remember the whole list, but you were one of them. Your brother, too. They tried to track them down for about a year. Didn’t work, obviously. They couldn’t land anyone.”
He smirks and shakes his head in disbelief. “Then, one day they came home and told me they got your sperm. They asked me to inject it with a syringe—”
I raise my hand to cut him off. “You can spare us those details.”
He nods quickly and continues, “Sure. Anyway, I didn’t think it’d work. Besides, I’m not proud to say this, but I was sleeping with them both—without condoms. Then both got pregnant. I was scared shitless that the kids would be mine, so I took off for a while. No disrespect, but I have a music career. Having kids isn’t among my priorities if you know what I mean. My band and I went to the east coast to try out luck over there.”
I wave my hand to get him over the unnecessary details while Julie jots down something on her notepad. She’s eerily silent, but attentive to Ben’s talk.
A sheen of sweat forms on Ben’s forehead despite the AC running in my office. He tugs at the collar of his t-shirt and his Adam’s apple moves up and down as he swallows. “About three months ago, Beverly called me to tell me she lost the baby. She sounded upset. I guess she was jealous of Theresa or something. I don’t know. She told me she was coming to visit me in New York. I was cool with it.”
“How about Theresa?” Julie asks rather softly. “Didn’t you hear anything from her?”
“No. She didn’t try to touch base and I’m not the one who chases after girls,” Ben says smugly.
“When did you come back to L.A.?” I ask.
“About a month ago. To give a concert. Theresa invited Beverly over to her new place. I had no idea she went ahead with her plan and got in contact with you. It looked like things were going well for her. But, Beverly was majorly pissed at Theresa’s luck. I didn’t think she’d act out her jealousy. I mean, girls fight one minute and make out the next.”
“What did she do?” I ask to not allow him to digress.
“She tried to get Theresa to use drugs, but Theresa wouldn’t take any. She was smarter than that. And she told me she’d been clean since she found out about the pregnancy. Didn’t even drink alcohol.”
“What happened the night of her death?”
Ben inhales a deep breath and again looks at Carl for permission. Carl glances at me in obvious discomfort.
I clear my throat and lean forward, clasping my hands on the desk. “We’ll not use anything you’ll share with us against you.”
Ben shifts in his chair and straightens his shoulders. His eyes skim over Julie’s knees in a very quick glance before he continues, “Beverly just told me to meet Theresa outside the bar. I picked her up and we went inside. Beverly wasn’t where I’d left her, but then Theresa got a text from Beverly and told me Beverly was waiting for her in the lady’s room. I said, “Fine with me,” and went to get us drinks. That was the last time I saw her.”
“Did Beverly say what she was going to do with Theresa?” Julie asks, pulling the hem of her skirt over her knees trying to cover them in vain. She hasn’t missed Ben’s glance at her legs and is bothered by the universal male impulse to look at something beautiful, such as her legs.
Focus! I remind myself that I’ll have plenty of time to adore her legs once I have Theresa’s death behind me and turn my gaze to Ben.
“Nope. Not a word,” Ben replies. “But, I’d seen her buying crack before I went out to look for Theresa. She must have found a way to convince her to use it, I don’t know.”
“Carl,” I call out the PI Julie hired. “Are you absolutely sure there was no camera inside the bathrooms?”
To my inquiry, he nods with an assured glance.
“Where is Beverly now?” I ask.
“She’s gone,” Carl answers. “There’s no recording of her leaving the bathroom from through the door. She must have escaped from the windows inside.”
“Have you heard from her since?” I ask Ben, to which he shakes his head and adds, “I tried to call her, but her voice mail picks up every time.”
“We tracked down her phone and located it in a dumpster behind the bar,” Carl says.
“I don’t think Beverly tried to kill Theresa,” Ben defends his girlfriend. “She loved her, but she didn’t want her to have the baby.”
“So you’re saying she tried to kill the baby?” I ask, my curiosity peaking.
“Yeah. Kind of. I don’t know. She didn’t want Theresa to have money,” Ben explains.
“Is there anything else you want to say regarding Theresa or Beverly?” I ask.
“That’s all I guess,” Ben says.
“Well, then.” I stand and as I do, Ben and Carl get up. Walking around my desk, I stop before Ben. “Are you aware that you’re among the potential biological fathers to Theresa’s baby?”
“Yes, sir.” He nods quickly, a little too eagerly. “I agreed to give a mouth swab for the paternity test.”
Unbuttoning my jacket, I slip my hands into the pockets of my pants, quite aware of the intimidation my tall and wide figure is having on the young boy. “What’re your plans in the event that you’re the father?”
“I have no plans.” He throws his hands into the air. “I can’t deal with a kid. I have a career to focus on.”
“You can give him up for adoption,” I suggest.
His eyes light up in sudden realization, and his lips curl up in a slightly mischievous smile. “Are you interested in adopting him?”
Narrowing my eyes, I stare at him with my usual ‘you don’t know who you’re dealing with’ glare. “I want what’s the best for the baby.”
“If you are, we can come to an agreement,” Ben offers.
He might very well have partnered with Beverly in her attempt to get rid of my child. And, according to Carl’s report, he’s a heavy abuser of cocaine and a variety of other drugs, himself. The thought of him hurting Preston while high under drugs turns my stomach upside down.
“Let’s first find out if you’re the father before anything else,” I suggest. “But let me tell you, if you turn out to be the father, I can assure you, I’ll make sure the kid is safe and have Child Protection Services to take a good look at your lifestyle and habits before they decide to give you the baby. Are you sure you want them to scrutinizing every detail of your life? I’d recommend you rethink the freedom you enjoy before you decide to lose it all to your financial ambitions.”
Ben’s jaw falls at my threat, while his eyes dart back and forth between Carl and me. Julie gets up from her chair and grabs a box of Q-tips and asks Ben to open his mouth to get a swab of his saliva. Slipping the used Q-tip into a Ziploc bag, she thanks him and turns to me. “I’ll get this analyzed immediately. It’ll take only a few hours.”
“I can wait here,” Ben suggests. “I’ll assure you, Mr. Hawkins, I won’t stand in your way, as long as we decide on a small transaction.”
I glare harder at him for his proposition, although I’m more than comforted by how readily he wants to give up the baby. “Carl will take it up from here.” I turn to Carl. “Wait for my call.”
Carl nods and heads for the door with Ben trailing after him. Julie leaves, too, to get Ben’s mouth swab analyzed.
I settle back in my chair and swivel it to stare out of window, hoping the tightening in my chest will resettle quickly. Theresa was killed out of the laughable jealousy of some teenage girl, who was supposed to be her best friend from childhood. And my son is offered by his biological father in trade for cash. The cruelty in the world makes me want to wrap my arms around my child and never let him go.
The minutes feel like hours while I tap my fingers on the armrest of my chair, waiting for Julie to show up with the test results.
Thoughts of Scarlet and the kiss earlier in the car fill my mind. She won’t like the way I’m planning to handle Preston’s case. Ben seemed willing to sign over his paternal rights to me. And if he turns out to be the father, I can get my lawyers to draw up a petition on behalf of Ben to terminate his paternal rights as quickly as today. And in a matter of weeks, I can become the official father to the baby, which is the exact scenario Scarlet wants me to avoid.
While guilt over having to end my relationship with Scarlet for someone else’s baby is eating at me, I can’t ignore Preston’s need for a stable home. He virtually fell into my lap. I can’t turn my back on him, when I have all the resources for a loving home. Scarlet might be grudgingly against the idea, but Julie seems supportive of my steps toward becoming a father. She already sees him as a part of me. If she loves me enough, she and I can make it work.
I’ve had enough ups and downs in my thirty-two years of existence. My life should finally start to move toward peace and calm. Toward something stable.
I don’t want to chase after more pussies. I don’t care about the rest of the three billion women I can bang. The happy image of coming home to Julie and Preston after a particularly challenging day at work crosses my mind. That’s exactly what I want, what I yearn for to feel happy again. I’m ready for the boring happiness that comes with a family; spending lazy Sundays in our backyard while watching Preston play and spending the nights with Julie in my arms. That’s the life I want to live. Not dozens of women or yachts or motorcycles.
I’ll have three things I have to deal with to realize my dream. To properly break up with Scarlet; to officially adopt Preston, and to convince Julie to start a relationship with me. Three seemingly easy steps. But even if just one fails, I won’t have a chance to pursue my dream.
The door opens, interrupting my thoughts. I turn around to see the object of the first step on my list walk into my office.
“Zane, love. We need to talk,” Scarlet says with a soft, apologetic voice and approaches me. Her warm, blue eyes sparkle as they stare at me, searching my face for a clue about my decision.