Champagne Life

by Nicole Bradshaw

  “Act natural,” Jenn whispered. “He’s totally oblivious to all of my indiscretions, as I am to his.”

  DeShaun turned to Jenn. “What do you mean all of my indiscretions? I thought you said you never cheated on your husband.”

  “Not now. We’ll talk later.” She forced a smile as she waved her hand high in the air. “Berti, dear, what are you doing home so early? I thought I was to meet you in Japan.”

  Berti sized up Deshaun, starting from his expensive shoes right up to the designer shirt. “Don’t you look dapper. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And you,” Berti said, turning back to his wife. “I’m here because I thought you’d need my help, tying up all the loose ends.” He turned back to DeShaun. “But I see you were in good hands while I was away. Speaking of which, where were you all day?”

  Jenn casually tossed her hair back. “We were out scouting locations for DeShaun’s business.”

  Berti shot a look at DeShaun. “Is that so? Good for you.”

  “Well,” DeShaun began. “I guess I’d better head out.”

  Berti grabbed his arm with what DeShaun thought was excessive force. “Oh, no, you don’t. You can’t leave without having a quick drink. Don’t know when I’ll see you again.”

  “I really shouldn’t.”

  “I don’t take kindly to rejection,” Berti said, still holding onto DeShaun’s arm. “One drink and you may go on your merry way.”

  DeShaun glanced over at Jenn.

  “I’m sure she’d love you to stay as well,” Berti said. “Wouldn’t you, dear?”

  “Of course,” Jenn said as she squeezed past Berti still standing in the doorway. “I’ll make us some drinks.”

  “Just one,” DeShaun told him. He followed Berti into the house, quickly shuffling around thoughts of what belongings he may have left in their bedroom. “One drink and then I have to go.”

  Berti led him through the foyer. “One and then you may go.” He led DeShaun to the study and nodded toward a plush chair in the corner. “Have a seat.”

  DeShaun took a seat on the lounge chair. Jenn came from behind the bar and handed him a crystal glass containing Hennessy.

  “Neat, correct?”

  From the other end of the room, Berti chuckled. “Jenn, dear, how would you know what he likes to drink?” He turned to DeShaun. “Women always thinking they know everything.”

  “This is fine,” DeShaun said.

  Jenn tipped a bottle of Russo-Baltique and filled another crystal glass, halfway. “I’m a professional, at this.” She handed the glass to Berti. “It’s my job to know what men like.”

  DeShaun choked on his drink.

  “Take it easy,” Berti said. “This stuff is expensive. Don’t want you wasting any of it, even if you are choking to death.” He laughed as he reached behind the bar and pulled out a rectangular, sandalwood-colored box. “Cohiba?”

  “No. Thank you.”

  Berti took another gulp. “Jenn, honey, maybe you should finish packing.”

  “Finish? I haven’t even started.”

  “Really?” Berti asked. “I went up to the room and it looked like a cyclone hit it, clothes and empty wine bottles all over the place. You must’ve really missed me to drink all that wine by yourself.”

  Just then Berti’s phone rang. He picked it up, said a few “uh-huhs” to the person on the other end, and then excused himself and walked out of the room.

  When he was gone, DeShaun quickly turned back to Jenn. “He knows.”

  She casually shook her head. “Berti may be a smart guy when it comes to business, but in real life, he’s an idiot. He could’ve found your boxers stuffed between my legs and still wouldn’t be suspicious, poor guy.” She kissed DeShaun on the nose. He pulled away.

  “Sorry about that,” Berti said, returning to the den. “It’s like there’s never a day off when you own your own business. But then again, you would know about that, wouldn’t you, DeShaun?”

  “I just started, but I’m glad to report it’s going well.”

  “That’s good,” Berti said. “So what places have you seen?”

  “Places?”

  “Yes,” Berti said, taking another gulp. “You said you went scouting locations today.”

  “We were looking in the Conshohocken area,” Jenn jumped in. “But we didn’t really find anything worthwhile. Then we found a nice property in Center City but decided not to go ahead with that one either. Too much traffic and noise.”

  “What about the Main Line?” Berti asked. “It’s close to the city, but without the congestion.”

  “Something to consider,” Jenn said.

  “I’d better go.” DeShaun stood up. “Good luck with your move to Japan.”

  “Yes, yes, thank you,” Berti said. “Take care of yourself.”

  “You too, Mr. Herjavec.”

  Berti gave a stern look.

  “I mean, Berti,” DeShaun corrected.

  Jenn stood up and gently took DeShaun’s elbow. “I’ll show you out.” When they reached the front door, she gave DeShaun a quick peck on the lips. “See? I told you. Completely oblivious.”

  Naomi and Jeremy

  I entered into the hotel room and immediately checked the corner by the sofa, where we had dropped off our bags before heading to the funeral. Jeremy’s bags were gone.

  Just then the bathroom door opened and he walked out. “I didn’t hear you come in. Is everything okay?”

  I let out a breath of relief. “I should be asking you that. I’m glad you’re still here.”

  “You expected otherwise?”

  “Honestly, I didn’t know what to expect.” I scanned the room once again. “And then when I didn’t see your bags, I assumed you left.”

  “I stuck them in closet to make more room. I would’ve put yours there too but I didn’t want to touch your things without permission.”

  I smiled. “My mother is right. You really are a great guy.”

  “Tell you mother I said I know.” He walked up and kissed me on the nose.

  “Jeremy, I am so sorry I put you in this position.”

  He shook his head. “Hold on a sec. Let me say this quickly and then you can have the floor. I love you, Naomi. I want to be with you. I don’t care whose baby you are carrying. I want to take care of both of you. I know you’ve had some issues with men in the past, but I’m not like that, Naomi. Let me prove it to you. I can make you happy. I can make us happy, including the baby. I’m going back to school, but I’ll get a part-time job. You can live with me and maybe sell your house for extra income. If you don’t want to do that, that’s fine, too. Everything will be okay, Naomi, you’ll see.”

  He paused and I thought he was finished. He wasn’t.

  “I love you so much and I hate to see you hurting like this,” he continued. “We can make this work. We can be a family, if you’ll give me the chance.” He paused again. “What do you think?”

  On the way over here in the cab, I thought about what I would say to him, if he was still here. It may have been easier for me if he had left. I wasn’t sure how I felt about this entire situation. After what he just told me, it put me in an even more awkward position.

  His eyes pleaded for an answer, the right answer, the one he desperately wanted to hear. I didn’t know if I could give him that.

  “I want to be with you, too,” I finally said.

  He smiled and released a long deep breath. “You have given me the answer I prayed for. You have no idea how happy you have made me.” He wrapped his arms around me and gently kissed me. A tear ran down my cheek as he whispered into my ear, “We are going to have a baby together.”

  “About that,” I said, wiping away my tears. “I’m not having a baby.”

  He looked confused and scared at the same time. “But, I thought—”

  “I’m having two babies, twins.”

  His eyes bulged open, but there was a smile on his face. He was o
verjoyed. He knelt down and placed his ear to my belly. “We’re having twins?” He looked up at me. “Can you believe it? We’re having two babies. Does anyone else know?”

  “Just you.”

  He kissed my belly and then rose to his feet. Our bodies pressed together as he rubbed my shoulders and kissed my lips. He bent down and scooped me up, carrying me over to the king-sized bed where he gently laid me down. We made love until the sun dipped completely below the horizon. Unlike the first and only time in the car, it wasn’t awkward, but rather sweet and gentle. This time, our being together wasn’t based on anger or seeking revenge. We were two people who genuinely cared for each other.

  His body moved slow and methodically, making sure I was enjoying it as much as he was. But an important piece was missing. Even with all the tenderness and love I felt coming from him, I couldn’t help thinking about DeShaun.

  My cell woke me up. I glanced over at Jeremy, who was still tucked under the sheets, fast asleep.

  “Hello?” I whispered, looking out the sliding glass patio doors. The full moon created dark shadows throughout the room.

  “Naomi? It’s DeShaun. How are you?”

  My eyes bugged open. To say I was surprised to hear from him was an understatement. A part of me was cautiously glad to hear his voice. The last time we spoke, he was threatening me with divorce papers. Tonight, DeShaun’s tone sounded less incensed.

  “I’m okay. Is something wrong?”

  “Everything’s cool. I just wanted to see how you were doing. I tried calling the house first.”

  “I’m not home.”

  He laughed. “I figured that when I didn’t get an answer. Where are you? No wait. It’s none of my business. You don’t need to answer to me anymore. I was just—”

  “I’m in Atlanta.”

  “Everything okay?” There was concern in his voice.

  I looked over at Jeremy, who was still sleeping. I lowered my voice and said, “Dad died.” I tried to steady my tone, but my voice cracked.

  “Oh, man. I am so sorry, Mimi. Was he sick? Do you feel okay to talk about it now?”

  “He had a heart attack.” Tears formed in the corners of my eyes. “It hurts so much, DeShaun. We’re hanging in there though.”

  “How’s Mom?”

  “She’s managing, but it’s a struggle for all of us.”

  “Man, I am so sorry to hear that, Mimi. You should’ve called. I would’ve gone with you.”

  I checked on Jeremy, who flinched a couple of times but commenced his loud snoring. I leaned over the side of the bed and lowered my voice even more. “I was going to call, but then when you called that time, you were so angry and told me you had divorce papers in the mail.”

  “Shit! I’m sorry, Mimi. I was being an asshole. I was just—I don’t know what I was,” he said. “I’m sorry. Were all your relatives at the funeral?”

  “Everyone, including good ol’ sis.”

  “Cara was there?” he asked. “Did someone have to call nine-one-one to pull you off of her?”

  I laughed through my tears. “Almost. That girl got on my last nerve.”

  “Remember when she came to the family reunion and busted her ass playing badminton?” DeShaun said. “You couldn’t tell her it wasn’t the Olympics. She was going for the gold, too.”

  “I remember that. She tried to get a foul on me for that point, saying I was illegally spiking the birdie.”

  We both started laughing. Jeremy stirred and then opened his eyes. Rubbing his tired eyes, he looked up at me and asked, “Who’s that?”

  I quickly covered the speaker with the palm of my hand. “I’ll be off in a second.” I removed my hand, turned away and whispered, “I have to go.”

  “Okay,” DeShaun said on the other end. “Look, Naomi, I want to meet up with you when you get back. Is that okay?”

  “We should be home tomorrow evening.”

  “We?”

  “I have to go,” I said, quickly. “I’ll call you when I get back.”

  “Okay, but tell your mother and Cara I said hello, even though your mother probably doesn’t want to hear it.”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  “I bet I would.”

  I felt him smiling through the phone.

  I hung up and shoved the phone back into my purse, careful to avoid Jeremy’s inquisitive stare. “You hungry, Jeremy? I’m starving. Want something to eat?”

  Jeremy sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. With his elbows resting on his knees and his head hung low, he asked, “Was that him? Was that DeShaun?”

  I stepped out of bed. “I don’t want to get into it now.”

  “Was it or wasn’t it him? I’m asking a question.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “What do you mean does it matter? Of course, it does. Why would it not matter that I just told you I loved you and within hours after having sex, you’re talking to your husband, ex-husband, whatever? Of course, it matters.”

  “Yes, it was him. There. Are you happy now?”

  “Do I look happy?”

  “We are finally on speaking terms. He called, asking where I was, and when I told him, he wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

  “I don’t get why he’s calling you in the first place. I thought you said he sent divorce papers to your house. That should be it.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “That’s because he’s not making it that simple. He doesn’t need to call you and next time he does, I want to tell him that.”

  “What is wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?”

  “I love you, remember? I want to be with you and the babies. He doesn’t. I don’t want him disrespecting me like that again, like I’m some fool. I’m not the one and next time I see him, he’s gonna know it.”

  “Jeremy, it’s not like that. He wasn’t disrespecting you. He doesn’t even know about you.”

  “Oh really? Tell me this. Are we or are we not going to be together?”

  “Jeremy—”

  “It’s not a difficult question.”

  “Yes, we are going to be together. Would you please relax? I’m with you, okay?”

  The tense creases around his eyes relaxed a little, so I figured everything was cool. “I want to go back to the house to say goodbye to my mother. Are you coming?”

  “I’ll drop you off,” he said. “I have an errand to run before we head back to PA.”

  A nagging suspicion told me that this topic wasn’t even close to being finished.

  DeShaun

  DeShaun grabbed the platter of shrimp and practically sprinted out the glass patio double doors. As he hurried past the party-goers relaxing on the veranda, he noticed several other guests holding empty champagne and wine glasses.

  Dammit, where the hell was M.J.?

  He spotted M.J. across the patio, surrounded by several women, serving hors d’oeuvres and chatting it up like he was one of the guests, instead of the help that DeShaun had brought along to make sure this party was a success. DeShaun hadn’t secured a solid party in two weeks and he was getting worried. Aside from Countess Vargas’ Thanksgiving party coming up, he only had one or two smaller gigs lined up. He was pulling in over $2,500 for a larger private function, but that money had to also pay for the guys he brought along to help him serve. It didn’t matter that he was still bunking on M.J.’s lumpy pull-out couch. If M.J. didn’t pick it up, he was getting a smaller cut. If anyone, including his boy, was messing with his money, that was going to be a big problem.

  “DeShaun,” the Countess said, holding his arm in a death grip. “Would you like to come back to my place tonight to service my private party?” The old woman was slurring and her eyes practically rolling back in her head as she spoke.

  DeShaun smiled politely. “I can’t. I have a million things to do after this party.”

  “Really?” she asked. “What about tomorrow night?”

  DeShaun kept his focus ahead,
still in search of M.J. “We’ll talk about that another time. Let me get you another drink.” As expected, that trick earned him his freedom. She released his arm and he headed toward the bar to get the Countess another drink.

  “DeShaun,” she called after him. “I’m really sorry, but I’m going to have to cancel my Thanksgiving feast. I won’t need you after all.”

  “Excuse me?” This got his full attention. “What do you mean cancel? We have a signed contract.”

  “The recession is killing me,” she said. “With everyone losing money, no one feels like celebrating anyway. I will keep you in mind for future engagements.”

  “You can’t do that. What about the contract we signed?”

  She shrugged. “Take me to court. I’m not throwing the party.”

  “Does this have anything to do with the fact that I won’t sleep with you?”

  “It has everything to do with that,” the Countess said matter-of-factly. “You can fuck that fat cow, Jenn Herjavec, but you won’t have me?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She waved her bony, manicured hand in the air, like she was shooing a fly. “Oh, please. Spare me the denial. Everyone knows.”

  “But, but—” He was desperate. “I saved your life.”

  “I’m an old, drunk woman. I fall into the pool at least once at every party. If it wasn’t you, it would’ve been someone else.” She turned and started walking away. “Take care of yourself, DeShaun, darling.”

  He watched her stumble away. Now what? He’d really have to hustle to get another gig to replace that one.

  “Yo, DeShaun.” M.J. came running up. “We’re out of Patron and Zinfandel. People are beginning to complain.”

  “I have reserve bottles in my car,” DeShaun said. “It’s not a lot, so fill the glasses halfway instead of two-thirds. And tell those ignorant assholes who are supposed to be working for me to stop drinking it, and that includes you!” DeShaun knew the guys dipped into the bottles and snuck glasses here and there during the service.