ENVY Deceptive Desires #1 (Romantic Suspense)

by Amarie Avant

  “Mom doesn’t know anything! Raven has my children—”

  “Children? Is … She is pregnant! You let that crazy woman get pregnant, again? How convenient! I'm sure she'll disappear when your meager, noble fortune runs out.”

  “Fuck you very much.” Liam slammed his hand against the radio button to end the call.

  Chapter 3

  Though they’d returned from Switzerland a little over two weeks before, Raven hadn’t spoken with Charlene yet. That morning, Damien offered to watch Royael after school while she attended the first day of the new semester at school. Raven had tried to understand Liam’s situation, but he’d been gone much of the time since their return. He hadn’t even been there that morning when Royael made the transition into first grade.

  Anyhow, while in one of her photography classes, Damien had texted and forewarned Raven that her mother had returned from Los Angeles. Her stepfather was the most perceptive person she knew, and it seemed that he was aware his stepdaughter ran every which way Charlene did not go. He wasn’t the type to shy away from having a serious conversation with Raven, but they both knew that when it included Charlene, all bets were off. Mother and daughter were learning about each other after over twenty years of being apart.

  Now, Raven let herself into their mansion, she tiptoed toward the staircase since there was a very big game room upstairs. But stopped in her tracks upon hearing a husky voice—almost as thick as Annette’s, except Granny would say the chick had a potty mouth—carried along by the aroma of breakfast. When’s the last time I ate?

  Charlene stormed into the hallway, placing a dramatic manicured hand at her chest. “Where have you been, Raven? I was worried!” Giving her daughter no time to respond, she exclaimed, “You tell me that you’re being,” Charlene’s screech turned into a whisper, “blackmailed in a voicemail while leaving for another country! What was I supposed to think? I imagined you dead, or … raped, or raped and dead, lying somewhere in a brook with your naked rear in the air.”

  “Mom, calm down,” Raven whispered, suspicious of them being overheard.

  “Calm down? Do you not remember anything? You went with me to see Royland Alder! Hello? He raped me at the age of fifteen and left me for dead!”

  Raven breathed a deep and seedy breath of anger, not needing a reminder.

  “I had good news. I wanted to tell you about the restaurant we’re opening, and you, Royael, and Liam disappear for almost two months—”

  “What restaurant?” Raven perked up. “What do you mean by ‘we’?”

  Charlene regained her happiness. “Momma, you, and I are opening a restaurant!”

  “We?” Raven cocked her head in confusion.

  “Yes. We should’ve talked about it at Christmastime. Why do I have the feeling you blocked my calls? None of your cell phones were working.”

  “I know you were worried, and it seems like I just neglected my priorities, but I had to get away,” Raven said.

  Charlene nodded, taking a deep breath. Her high-pitched tone decreased. “Thanks for acknowledging that. How much money does he or she want?”

  “$50k.”

  “Fifty thousand dollars,” Charlene mouthed, enunciating every syllable. “But—”

  “You’re a little bitty thang.” The raspy voice caught Raven off guard. A woman of similar size to her grandmother came down the hallway. She was dressed in a jogging suit and would have seemed more like Charlene’s age if not for the extra weight and lack of interest in her attire. “Your momma said you’re pregnant, but Char mustn’t been feeding you.”

  “I’m only ten weeks,” Raven replied, patting her belly.

  “Raven, this is Teresa, my sponsor,” Charlene made introductions to her AA sponsor and Raven. “I’ve known Teresa for about six years.”

  Raven calculated that it was the same timeframe in which an eighteen-year-old Liam and herself went to hunt down her estranged mother.

  “Char, c’mon. We gotta feed this child. Raven about the same size as that woman that my bastard husband cheated with.” Teresa turned back to her. “Don’t take offense, because you’re much cuter.”

  Raven sat on a stool. When Charlene finished making her plate, Teresa went back and added more. Raven smiled her thanks for the snowy mountain of grits.

  Raven picked around her food for a while. The blackmailer said time is running out …

  Teresa slid into her thoughts with man-bashing her own husband. Literally, man-bashing, since Teresa had caught her husband cheating and went postal on him. The story included a single red-brick from the front yard and a mad black woman. Teresa stopped ranting as her phone vibrated on the counter. Picking it up, Teresa walked to the door. “Excuse me. It’s my good neighbor, must be calling to tell me how my bastard husband is currently out of the hospital and trying to get into our house.”

  The sound of the clock on the wall oven ticked. Tired of being silently scrutinized, Raven said, “So, her bastard husband sounds charming. Does she have any other nicknames for him?”

  “Sometimes she calls him her bastard-ass-husband. We can’t drink, so a sailor’s mouth is Teresa’s vice, shopping is mine.” Charlene smirked. “Let’s go get Royael ready for ballet. But Raven …” Charlene stood slowly; she’d reclaimed that soothing tone of hers. “If someone wants money, we should give it to them. I’m sure that’s nothing to Liam.”

  Perceiving every notion of horror behind her mom’s eyes, for Charlene’s sake, Raven nodded. She walked out the kitchen with her mother on her heels.

  “Now—” Charlene looked around the lavish open floor plan as if there were some unknown horror hidden beneath the Persian rug as they went up the stairs “—tell me why?”

  “I don’t know.” Raven stopped on the second landing and looked into Charlene’s eyes. Making eye contact made the story authentic—at least, she hoped so.

  “Where’d everybody go?” Teresa voiced.

  They turned to see Teresa in the hallway, face bewildered.

  Raven rushed upstairs as Charlene replied to her friend. She heard them head back into the kitchen as Teresa reiterated the day’s news of her husband's recovery. Down the hall, she went into a room with pink-and-brown polka dots. Damien rocked back and forth in a wood chair with her half-sister, one-year-old Trinity, on his lap. Trinity’s chubby hands flailed; she attempted to tear at the popup book he kept just out of reach.

  Royael sat with her curly-haired bear, Mookie, and Trinity’s stuffed elephant. Mookie was treated like a king, as usual, with a plastic teacup and sugar cookie. The elephant’s teacup was turned over, his saucer had broccoli. Royael hated broccoli. Mookie hated broccoli.

  “Hey, lil’ sis.” Raven took her half-sister from her stepdad and kissed the toddler's cheeks.

  “Just the girl I’ve been looking for.” Damien stopped rocking.

  “What’s going on?” She feigned innocence.

  “Oh, you know I couldn’t talk freely while I met you at the school for Royael’s first day. Then you ran off, with the excuse of being late to class.”

  “I might have been late, if I had dawdled.” Raven shrugged. “Besides, it was the first day of school for me too.”

  He smiled, though not entirely convinced. “Your mom’s been worried about you. Is her excessive anxiety justified?”

  “Aw, Dad, you know Mom.” She turned away from him to help Trinity sit at the tea table.

  “True.” He took off his reading glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “She’s my drama mama and you’ve always been secretive. Is there something we should know?”

  Lightening up, she plastered on a playful smile. “Is this gang-up-on-Raven day?”

  “Answering a question with a question will only increase my notion that you’re hiding something.” His dark brown eyes challenged hers to turn away.

  She didn’t blink as she replied, “Nope. Everything’s perfect.”

  ***

  Teresa offered to do the dishes. Charlene found Raven getti
ng Royael ready in the lilac bedroom she’d decorated for her granddaughter after Raven’s car accident. Royael sat at the canopy bed, pulling on ballet slippers. Charlene took in the contours of Raven’s stiff shoulders as her daughter packed Royael’s pink Nike bag. Her heart yearned to go out to her child, but how to go about learning the secrets behind Raven’s frosty eyes?

  Without words, Raven followed her to the office. Charlene closed the door and thought of the best words.

  “I, uh.” Charlene bit her lip and walked toward the desk. She pulled out the top drawer and snatched a pre-written check out. “It’s only half of what you requested. I can’t get more without alerting Damien.”

  “I appreciate it.” Raven glanced at it with that unreadable face Charlene always hated.

  “Now, who’s blackmailing you?” Charlene placed her hands on her hips.

  “Mom, Royael has less than an hour to get to ballet class. It’s rush hour right now and on the opposite side of town.”

  “Raven, please.” Charlene reverted to the ultra-calming tone. “Let me help you.”

  “You’ve helped a lot.” Raven smiled, tapping the check in her purse before turning to leave.

  “Wait! Take one more step and I’m calling Dr. Stanton,” Charlene ordered. She reached over the desk to grab the house phone. Her hands shook as she put it to her ear. “If I have to go there, I will. I’m doing this for your own good!”

  Arms folded and head cocked to the side, Raven stared her mother down.

  “Tell me what’s going on!” No reply followed the order, so she resorted to the next best thing and made a threat, “I know Dr. Stanton’s number by heart. You’re backing me against the wall, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  “Mom, make this easy on the both of us. Just stop!”

  Fingers trembling, she mashed numbers. “I love you. I couldn’t forgive myself, if some—”

  “You mean if I slit my wrists and make the pain end?” Raven folded her arms. “You’ll are just waiting for me to snap. Unfortunately for some people who are waiting, I’d never kill myself.”

  “Raven, please … It’s my job to keep you safe. You can’t be under this pressure.” She began to dial the number.

  “Correction! It was your job to keep me safe as a child, but you abandoned me.” Raven pointed to herself, teeth gritted. “You left me at an orphanage in Iowa. Only to be picked up by Granny and live in Bellwood with a bunch of people to gossip at how a teen runs away then her baby magically appears. Mom, you didn’t even have the decency to come get me when you made it!”

  Charlene hung up as the receptionist repeated ‘hello.’ “I th-thought y-you forgave me.”

  Raven’s lips barely moved, but the words spoke volumes, “Forgiving is not forgetting.”

  Stunned beyond belief, Charlene watched her daughter tear up the $25,000 check. She sat, hands gripping the armrests as she cried. Raven had refused her aid, and glared at her with a world full of mistrust. There was only one more option left, and she wouldn’t back down. “I must save my daughter …”

  Chapter 4

  After ballet, Royael begged to spend the night at Kimberly’s house, her friend from private school. Home alone, Raven twirled around the kitchen in a fuchsia silk jersey dress. At the stovetop on the island, she stirred the asparagus then buzzed to the oven. Stop opening the oven; she reprimanded herself. Granny would kill me for serving dry veal.

  A quick look at the clock read that Liam should be home soon. She cringed. The food wouldn’t be ready. After Royael’s dance class, she’d had to drive back to the opposite side of town to get Royael’s favorite sleeping bag. To top it off, she had to hide the guilt from withdrawing the blackmailer’s funds from Liam’s bank account.

  Taking the skillet off the stove, she scooped asparagus onto two china plates. Hurrying into the pantry, she almost tripped on her Manolos and laughed at herself. She hated high heels. Liam loved them. Taking a Merlot out of the display case, she put it on the table and lit the candles.

  Glancing at the clock again, Raven frowned. Okay, he’s ten minutes late. After letting the cooked veal rest, she’d cut it and poured glaze in a zigzag pattern. Frowning, she took a seat on the stool. Elbows on the table—against Annette’s good teaching—Raven wondered what took so long. Thirty minutes later, she leaned back in the chair. The cascade of curls she’d spent almost an hour on were nonexistent. The sound of Liam’s ringtone made her jump.

  “Hey, what’s taking you so long?”

  “There was another setback with the contractors’ permits.”

  “Oh, sheesh, I swear if these damn Delacroix hotels could construct themselves …” Raven shook that wish out of her head. Throat heavy, tears stung her eyes. “You aren’t coming home?”

  “Not tonight, babe.”

  “All right, bye.” She hung up. Stop it! I just have to get use to his schedule.

  Taking a deep breath, Raven tried to calm the anger rising in her chest. She gripped the phone, twisting her hands around it. Tossing it on the table, she stood and went to the island. Her hands rest on the custom onyx countertop as she stared at the steel cutlery. She picked up a chef knife; the blade gleamed as she turned it in her hand.

  ***

  Liam pressed the power to the radio, ending the call with Raven. She’d sounded so forlorn when he told her he wouldn’t make it home tonight. He inched the car toward The Loft, a boutique hotel, where he usually took Delacroix clients for drinks or dinner. Truth was, he’d gotten into Dallas first thing in the morning, but looking in her face and telling her another lie about the D-Hotel in Chicago might break him. After the counseling session with Stanton, he knew, for a fact, he'd failed her.

  “You were my best friend. Your mom took you away from me during middle school. When you returned in high school, I just knew … I just thought we’d always stick together. Then you left me pregnant with Royael. Even if we were related, we coulda taken care of Royael as friends. And Grandpa Otis had leukemia, you never even called … just sent that letter about aborting the disgusting, incestuous baby. I don’t care if it wasn’t from you!” She’d started jumping from indiscretion to indiscretion.

  Hearing her heart-constricting voice, he grabbed his duffel bag and went inside. Walking past milk-glass statues and vases of lilies, he stopped at the concierge of the ultra-white lobby.

  “Mr. Lemaître, alone this evening?”

  “Yes, I’m headed to the bar. I need a room.”

  The concierge’s head cocked to the side, as if wanting to remind Liam exactly where the Dallas D-Hotel was, and then he grinned. “The Presidential Suite, perhaps?”

  “No, a basic room.” He handed the man his bag and headed into the bar.

  A band played softly. He passed by thick, firm leather seats. There were couples and older men sitting at the tables, all dressed formally. He took a seat at a sleek white stool and leaned on the glossy white counter just as the bartender walked over with a fresh drink—his usual.

  “Keep ‘em coming,” he told the lanky bartender with a spray of freckles on her nose.

  She nodded frizzy hair then served other patrons.

  Undoing the diamond encrusted JD cufflinks—his favorite that normally gave him luck—Liam tossed back his drink, drowning out all the bad things he’d ever done to Raven. I won’t ever fail her again. Soon as I get work, I’ll tell her about the disconnection with Pierre and everything will be perfect. He put down the drink, and on cue, the bartender refilled it.

  “Hello, Liam Lemaître.” A silky murmur tantalized Liam’s ears as he tossed the drink back. He turned to an exotic woman with a slinky dress and diamond earrings that twinkled across her satiny brown skin. Her breasts played peek-a-boo in the swooped neck fabric as she floated into a cross-legged position.

  “Hello, Kiki. It’s been a while.” He picked up his instantly refreshed drink and told the bartender to add Kiki to his tab.

  “Why thank you, Liam.” She winked and added, �
��Cosmo.”

  He rubbed his hand over his face, lost in Raven’s voice. An image of her dolled up in the kitchen preparing dinner or ready to please in bed made him momentarily forget his plight. She, his all and all, was constantly willing to please. His ego ruined it. A soft hand on his arm pulled him away from the pain—which he determined would be the last—he’d brought Raven that night.

  “Feels wonderful,” Kiki said, as her slender hand glided over his shoulder.

  “It’s South American vicuna. Maybe you’ve had a firsthand chance to know just how good it feels,” he replied, knowing a gold digger when he saw one. Kiki frequented The Loft on most evenings he visited with one wealthy man after another.

  She giggled in response. “No, not as fine as this … As you. Stop playing games with me, Liam. It’s been my lucky day all day.” Kiki spoke confidently, “My fortune amplified the moment you arrived. You’re never riding solo. How about we take this party upstairs? Your room, my room?”

  You’d probably cringe at my basic room. “Neither.”

  “Hmmm, I’m alone. You’re alone.” Her warm breath against his ears wasn’t as teasing as the way she rubbed her chest against his shoulder. Every move she made was like a smooth tide. “C’mon.” She placed her room card on the lump of his lap, brushing a red polished nail against his leg and traced her hand around his belt buckle. “The first taste is always free …”

  She likened herself to a drug. He turned to watch the sea sway out of the room.

  ***

  After putting uneaten veal in Tupperware, Raven donned a shimmery gray bikini. Her toes gripped the marble edge of the indoor pool. Light reflected off the glass walls, obstructing her view of the night. She’d turned on every lamp in the house, inside she only felt darkness. Why didn’t Liam come home? Replaying the short conversation they’d had earlier, she detected a hint of … He’s keeping something from me.