Sharp Curves Ahead

by Allison Hobbs

  “The package you got on eBay?”

  “Well, I couldn’t find what I wanted on eBay, so I had to resort to Craigslist.”

  “What was in the package?”

  “Bedbugs.”

  Jayla’s mouth fell open.

  “It’s the best way to legally hurt a muthafucka. We had a bedbug infestation in prison, so I know firsthand the havoc they can wreak.”

  “Oh, my God. You are vicious.”

  “Only when it comes to defending your honor.”

  “But…but, how did you find bedbugs online? What kind of maniac sells some shit like that?”

  Derek shrugged. “You can buy anything online…from bombs to bedbugs. It’s crazy out there, babe. Anyway, Mr. Murphy is gonna be too busy battling bedbugs to have time to frown his face up at you.”

  All Jayla could do was shake her head.

  Chivalry was not dead and her husband had proven that a verbal attack on her was like an attack on him, and he wouldn’t rest until he got revenge.

  And he didn’t mind fighting dirty, either.

  Her mouth began to water as she thought about his gallantry and valor. Wanting to reward him, she sauntered toward him and said in a stern voice, “Zip those pants down, young man. I got something for you.”

  And Derek didn’t hesitate to obey the command.

  Chapter 33

  Ten miles outside of Miami and quietly nestled in a beautiful community that resembled a tropical paradise was a Mediterranean-style home with a manicured lawn and lush, lavender gardens.

  It was a home of distinction with exquisite Old World craftsmanship, and possessing all the features that appealed to Bailee. It was the perfect place to begin her new life, but the house was totally out of her price range.

  She contacted Jayla and instructed her to handle the sale of her Philadelphia condo, although the money from the condo wouldn’t help very much with the high cost of the Florida home. Even emptying her savings wouldn’t help. She needed access to her inheritance. However, that wouldn’t be possible for three years.

  The next best thing was to ask for a loan from the woman who held the purse strings, Giselle.

  Throughout the course of the day, Bailee would pick up her phone to call Giselle, and then argue with herself as her finger hovered over the screen.

  My mother stole my husband, and the least she can do to try and repair the damage she’s done is to lend me the money for the house. But I don’t want to talk to her, anytime soon. It’s unhealthy to listen to her ramble on and on about her dysfunctional relationship with my husband.

  The internal dialogue that ran through Bailee’s mind always culminated in her putting the phone down before placing the call to Giselle.

  Before going to bed, she convinced herself that asking Giselle for a loan didn’t require her to engage in any conversations that made her uncomfortable, nor was she obliged to be friendly toward a woman she couldn’t trust.

  Motivated by righteous indignation, she called Giselle and without a word of greeting, she blurted, “I need a loan—a substantial amount of money, but you know I’m good for it. I’ll pay you back in full as soon as I get the money from my trust fund.”

  “I’m not in a position to give you a loan, Bailee.”

  “What do you mean? Daddy left you a fortune.”

  “Listen, Bailee, I don’t have the strength for this conversation. This pregnancy is sucking the life out of me, and my doctor has me on bedrest. Trent is putting me through enough crap, and I don’t need any additional stress.”

  “I’m not trying to stress you out. You know I wouldn’t ask for anything if it wasn’t important to me.”

  Giselle sighed audibly. “How much do you need?”

  “Four-hundred thousand,” Bailee said without emotion.

  “I don’t have access to that kind of money.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “I don’t. When I changed lawyers, I made Trent the estate attorney, and—”

  Bailee felt her ears began to burn. “You did what? How could you give my soon-to-be, ex-husband legal control over my father’s money?”

  “Correction…it’s my money that your dear father bequeathed to me,” Giselle said with an edge to her voice. “But, it was stupid of me—I admit it, okay? I’ve already sent Trent a letter, terminating his services, but the money’s going to be tied up for at least a few months. I won’t be in the mood for a big legal battle until after I give birth.”

  “Oh, so you’ve decided to keep your child?”

  Giselle sucked her teeth. “I can’t go through with an abortion…I don’t believe in them. But it’s unlikely that I’ll keep a child that’s no relation to me. I plan to put it up for adoption.”

  A look of disgust formed on Bailee’s face. Her selfish mother had concocted the idea of fertilizing donor eggs with Trent’s sperm, and now she planned on giving the child to strangers.

  “Instead of getting another lawyer, why don’t you go back to Tillery & Danton, the firm Daddy selected. They’re highly respected and experienced, and I’m sure they’d be able to cut through a lot of the red tape.”

  Giselle scoffed. “I was happy to end my relationship with that firm. The last thing I want to do is give them control, again.”

  “I never realized you were dissatisfied with their services.”

  “I don’t tell you all the ins and outs of handling your father’s estate. It’s personal. I need you to be patient and to wait a few months for the loan. Can you do that?”

  “Well, I wanted to make an offer on the house and—”

  “Bailee,” Giselle uttered impatiently. “It’s not as if you’re homeless or down to your last dollar.” She gave another audible sigh. “My head is killing me. Can we talk about this at another time?”

  “Sure,” Bailee agreed half-heartedly.

  Unable to sleep, Bailee sat up in bed, troubled by the fact that Trent had his grubby fingers in her family’s money. Bailee decided to call Tillery & Danton in the morning to find out if they were aware of any legal loopholes that would give her access to a portion of her inheritance.

  When she awakened in the morning, she felt even more troubled than she had last night, and as soon as business hours began, she called the law firm that had handled her father’s estate for many years.

  She spoke to Mr. Danton, but he didn’t want to discuss the matter over the phone. He suggested that Bailee come into the office for a meeting.

  Although she’d visited her hometown only a week ago when she attended Jayla’s wedding, after speaking with Mr. Danton, she immediately booked a flight to Philadelphia.

  * * *

  Tillery & Danton were very old men, and Bailee was surprised they were capable of still running their firm. Tillery wore round spectacles, walked with a cane, and for some ungodly reason, his sparse hair was dyed a shocking shade of dark brown while his wild-haired eyebrows were snow-white.

  Danton was bald on top and his face and head were covered with age spots. Although both men gave the impression of being physically feeble, at the onset of the meeting, it was abundantly clear that they were mentally sharp.

  “Thank you for seeing me,” Bailee said as she joined the two men at the conference table.

  “We’re glad you got in touch with us,” said Danton. “In light of the fact that Ms. Giselle Cormier Wellington has terminated our services, it’s somewhat unethical for us to meet with you in this manner…”

  “However, we have a moral obligation to your father that supersedes ethics,” said Tillery, picking up where his partner left off. He leaned forward, and looking over his spectacles, he held Bailee’s gaze. “It is our concern that Ms. Wellington is mishandling your inheritance with her reckless spending.”

  Troubled, Bailee leaned forward. Her worried eyes flicked from Tillery to Danton. “I was aware that my mother has been irresponsible with her own money, but I had no idea she’d managed to get her hands on the trust fund my father set up for me.” />
  “Ms. Wellington doesn’t have any money of her own,” Tillery informed, crinkling his bushy, white eyebrows. “Ms. Wellington signed a prenuptial agreement that would have entitled her to your father’s fortune after ten years of marriage. However, with his death occurring after only nine years of marriage, she was only entitled to a lump sum of five-hundred thousand, along with the house. Aside from various charities, the bulk of Andrew Wellington’s fortune was left to you, his only child.

  “As your parent and guardian, Ms. Wellington was provided with a rather generous monthly income to oversee the estate. We fear, however, that her wanton looting of your assets will leave you penniless if she’s not held accountable for her actions.”

  Bailee shook her head, trying to clear it. Tillery’s bombshell disclosure had come so far out of left field, it took a few moments for her to take it all in. With comprehension came a dry mouth and a thudding heart. “Are you saying that my father’s entire estate belongs to me and not my mother?” Bailee asked in a choked voice.

  “We assumed you were aware that you are the sole beneficiary of your father’s fortune,” said Danton.

  Bailee shook her head slowly, unbelievingly. “I only knew about the million-dollar trust fund that I inherit at age thirty-five.”

  Danton snorted. “Multimillion-dollar trust fund is far more accurate.”

  Bailee gawked at the attorneys. “Are you telling me that my father left me millions of dollars and my mother never mentioned it? This makes no sense. Why didn’t you guys tell me?”

  “It wasn’t our place to disclose the arrangement until your thirty-fifth birthday, but Ms. Wellington certainly had a moral obligation to make you aware,” said Danton.

  “Bailee, we’ve heard a great deal of talk of an unnatural and revolting relationship between your husband and your mother,” said Tillery, grimacing as if there were a nasty taste in his mouth. “We’re sorry that this unpleasantness is happening to you, and we implore you to put a stop to their flagrant thievery.”

  Danton cleared his throat and then spoke gently. “We’ve been in the business of estate planning for a long time and we have many contacts. It’s been brought to our attention by a credible source that after Ms. Wellington allowed Mr. Trent Evans to siphon funds from the estate and deposit said funds into a bank account that he controlled, Mr. Evans then had the audacity to request an additional sixty-thousand dollars in legal fees, which Ms. Wellington paid.”

  “Oh, my God,” Bailee murmured.

  “It gets worse,” Danton said in an apologetic tone. “With Ms. Wellington’s full knowledge and permission, Mr. Evans has used funds from the Wellington estate to buy a house, a luxury sedan, an all-terrain vehicle, for credit card expenses, and to pay rent for the office space of his new private practice.”

  Bailee dropped her head into her hands. It was insane that all the luxurious gifts Giselle had showered upon Trent had not been paid for with her own money. It was yet another betrayal by the two people whom she should have been able to trust more than anyone else in the world.

  It was hypocritical for Giselle to have enjoyed an affluent lifestyle while teaching Bailee to be frugal and responsible.

  At some point during her marriage to Trent, he and her mother had ruthlessly conspired to betray and steal from her. The plan, however, had backfired against Giselle, and she’d turned to Bailee, of all people, for sympathy.

  It was finally clear to Bailee why Giselle had become so detached and unloving toward her after the death of her father.

  She had always assumed that Giselle disapproved of her weight and was disappointed and ashamed of her for not living up to her standards of beauty. Now Bailee realized that the reason for Giselle’s coldness was the simple fact that she was greedy and heartless and extremely bitter over the fact that her husband left his fortune to Bailee instead of her.

  Danton held a stack of papers in his hands, and as he thumbed through them, the rustling sound brought Bailee back to the present moment.

  “It would be viewed as conflict of interest if we were to represent you after being terminated by Ms. Wellington, but we would like to recommend a very competent attorney, Richard Pennetta, whom we’ve already spoken to. Pennetta is prepared to bring a number of serious charges against both Ms. Wellington and Mr. Evans—charges that include fraud and embezzlement.”

  Bailee swallowed hard. Did she actually want to see her own mother imprisoned? Did Trent deserve to be disbarred and jailed? And most importantly, was she spiteful enough to set the wheels of justice in motion?

  Hell, yes! Those two deceitful snakes need to pay for what they did to me!

  * * *

  Thanks to Jayla and her refined sleuthing skills, Bailee perused Trent’s baby mom’s social media pages. Her name was Lanay Strickland.

  Bailee had only briefly seen the woman in the video Jayla had sent; the camera was more focused on Trent and the kids than her.

  Bailee studied Lanay’s photos. She was average height and weight, but though she possessed a pleasant enough face, there was nothing remarkable about her. No perceptible characteristics that would influence a man to deceive his wife and her mother and break the law to keep her satisfied.

  Perhaps the secret to Lanay’s amazingness lay hidden between her legs, Bailee surmised wryly.

  Surprisingly, there were no images of Trent on her Instagram page. Lanay only posted pictures of herself and the two children. Getting another look at the children’s uncanny resemblance to Trent, struck Bailee like a harsh kick to the gut. Stifling a gasp, her hand covered her mouth as she stared at their young faces.

  Switching to Lanay’s Facebook page, Bailee perused the various posts, but was particularly interested in the most recent: Date night tonight at Fujiyama’s, my favorite Japanese restaurant.

  Ironically, Fujiyama’s had been a favorite of Bailee’s and Trent’s also. She wondered if he’d also dined there with Giselle.

  Lanay had no idea there was a warrant for her baby daddy’s arrest. If the police didn’t catch Trent at home in his spacious, new digs or at his office, Bailee would be sure to tell them to check out Fujiyama’s.

  After logging off Facebook, she felt an overwhelming sense of sorrow. The life she’d known had been a sham from the age of nine until now. It was no wonder she’d turned to food after her father’s death. Her mother’s simmering resentment toward her had left Bailee with a void that she tried to fill with food.

  She’d grown up with the false belief that she’d inherited Giselle’s incapacity to love a child and had therefore decided it would be callous to bring one into the world.

  But she’d been wrong. She was nothing like her mother.

  She was already making plans to include Giselle and Trent’s offspring into her life. Even if the child wasn’t related to her by blood, it was an innocent victim, like she was.

  If Giselle somehow escaped prison, which Bailee doubted, she’d step in and volunteer to adopt her stepbrother or sister before Giselle tossed the child to the wolves simply because she considered the baby to be a terrible inconvenience.

  Despite the fact that the baby would be a constant reminder of the most heinous act of betrayal Bailee had ever known, she was still ready and willing to shower the child with love.

  There was no doubt in her mind that Hayden, being the good man that he was, would easily open his heart to her adopted child.

  Epilogue

  The trial had been brief, yet sensational, and the courtroom was packed every day. It was big news for a Philadelphia socialite and her son-in-law to conspire to steal millions from her daughter and his wife.

  Although Bailee had not told Giselle about Trent’s secret family, Giselle found out from her lawyer before the trial began. During the proceedings, unable to conceal her rage, Giselle had leaned forward in an intimidating manner, grimacing obscenely and mumbling indecipherably when Lanay Strickland took the stand on Trent’s behalf. Giselle hissed at the woman so viciously, the judge threat
ened to throw her out of the courtroom if she didn’t control herself.

  Giselle had withered down to skin and bones. She was eight months’ pregnant, but her baby bump was barely discernible. A shadow of her former self, the hurt and animosity over Trent’s deceitfulness had transformed her into someone unrecognizable. Her hair, once lustrous and coiffed, had turned dull and brittle, and appeared unkempt.

  Her complexion was no longer radiant, and there were odd, purplish discolorations spotting her skin. The signs of aging that she’d skillfully kept at bay with the help of expensive dermatologists had found their way to the corners of her eyes, around her mouth, and were visible in the sag beneath her chin.

  There was nothing remotely beautiful about Giselle anymore. Bitterness had taken a toll. The seething resentment that consumed her was clearly visible on her face.

  Seeing Giselle looking gaunt and miserable in the courtroom every day was difficult, and despite what she’d done, Bailee often felt unexpected surges of pity for her.

  She also found herself becoming increasingly concerned about the well-being of the baby she was carrying. She suspected that her mother was intentionally trying to starve the poor child. Giselle had said that she didn’t believe in abortion, but she clearly had no problem with fetal abuse.

  Unfortunately, there was no clear evidence (such as drug use) that could be used against her. Improper nutrition wasn’t considered a crime. And even if her wrongdoing had been deemed to be a criminal offense, there was nothing more the judicial system could do to her after she’d been convicted and sentenced to serve three years behind bars.

  Throughout the pregnancy, Bailee had wondered if the fetus felt unloved in the womb. Did the unborn child realize that its surrogate mother wanted it to suffer as a way to spite its father—a father who was equally unconcerned about its well-being?

  Both Giselle and Trent proved to be contemptible people. Out of pure meanness, neither would agree to allow Bailee to raise the baby. The biological mother was unknown, and therefore, was unable to come forward and claim her offspring.