Dark Desires: Dark Erotic Tales (18 page)

Emily jumped up too and gave Dakota a little shove. "Oh yeah, well I'm going to put YOUR tooth brush in the TOILET!"

Delilah climbed back onto the couch and wrapped her arms around me. I rested my head on Delilah's shoulder and almost cried from the relief of hurdling this major obstacle without incident. She clicked the movie back on and fed me chocolates while the kids good naturedly argued about the certain pending doom of becoming brother and sister.

Part 1: Consecrate

Danielle Mantagne stood beneath an eternally grey sky and a torrent of rain. The rain obscured her tears. Her mascara ran, accenting the vivid white scars webbing the right side of her porcelain face. Her black heels sunk into the muddy earth. She was the only one of the hundreds of gathered funeral goers without an umbrella.

The service had just finished and it was time to leave. But, Danielle couldn't tear herself away from the twin closed coffins. Others passed by her, patting her shoulders or back, offering comforting words, or even awkward one armed hugs. But they were ignored. Her hands rested one on each casket and she was frozen in place by the prospect of walking away.

And leaving both her parents to be lowered into the ground.

***

Mantagne Enterprises orchestrated a huge wake at the corporate headquarters in downtown Seattle, Washington.
Which was good, because Danielle was rendered useless with grief since she'd been informed that her parents perished together in a plane crash. It was fitting that the company her parents founded and grew to staggering success should manage their final arrangements.

The chairman of the board, Peter Davis along with one of the lawyers, Jackson Anders, finally led her out of the rain and into a stretch limousine. She stared blankly out the window as she was taken to the wake.

Danielle perched on a chair with a glass of Merlot in her hand from which she took zero sips. Dozens of people spoke to her. She tried to tell her eyes to focus on theirs. She tried to get her lips to move and politely respond to the well-wishers. But she was simply vacant. She had nothing left. Hushed whispers migrated about the banquet hall. Everybody was concerned for Danielle Mantagne. This could be the thing to set her over the edge. She'd already been through so much.

She was a shadow of the woman she'd once been.

***

Danielle was buried under blankets in her pitch dark bedroom when she heard her doorbell repeatedly chiming and thunderous knocking. She dragged herself from her dark cocoon and fought another onslaught of tears as reality returned.

She trudged to the door and opened it to find Peter Davis and Jackson Anders standing there wearing expensive black suits and disgruntled facial expressions. "I see you've forgotten our meeting," Peter said coolly, eyeing Danielle with one harshly arched eyebrow.

Danielle sighed and her shoulders slumped even more. "I'm sorry. You're right. I forgot. I'm sorry to inconvenience you; I know you're terribly busy."

The faces of both men softened. Though it was true, they could very well be the two busiest men in the United States, they'd been close friends with Danielle's folks for forty years. They'd been present for Danielle's birth. They'd bounced her on their knees. Attended her wedding. Represented her in her divorce…

Each man individually embraced Danielle warmly. Together they comforted and soothed her as she fell apart right there in the doorway of her high rise condo.

"I'm so sorry," Danielle blubbered. "This is so unlike me."

"Danielle, don't apologize, sweetheart," Jackson fervently requested.

They ushered her into the living room. Jackson took a seat next to Danielle on the couch while Peter busied himself making them coffee. Any other time it would have seemed comical to Danielle that one of the world's most powerful men was making and serving her coffee.

Their meeting that day was to discuss her parents' estate. Danielle was the only heir to a fortune beyond comprehension. It was no surprise to Danielle that her late parents had been extraordinarily generous with their philanthropy and one half their
fortune had been bequeathed to charities.

Which left enough for Danielle to live lavishly on for one hundred lifetimes.

In addition to available funds, there was the matter of their massive business conglomerate. Both of Danielle's parents came from wealthy families of their own who had long since died off. Their old money had been used to establish and evolve a new business in the technology field. And now that empire belonged to Danielle.

Danielle the newspaper reporter.

Danielle's technological prose went as far as a decent knowledge of Microsoft Office programs and a working knowledge of the importance of social networking in media. That was about it. Beyond that, she was lucky to get through a day at work without spilling coffee on her keyboard. And now she owned a computer empire.

Finally, they addressed the matter of properties. In addition to the penthouse condo they owned there in the city, and the mansion they owned just outside the city, there were numerous other properties around the world and vehicles too. Everything Jackson Anders discussed, he had a corresponding file folder three inches thick that he handed to Danielle.

"Now, Danielle, I know this is a lot to be taking in. And I know you're in mourning. But just be aware, we are going to need to know as soon as possible where you stand with the company and what is to become of all this." He smiled kindly and continued. "And dear, just know we'll be right here with you every step of the way. Whatever decisions you make, we'll support you, help you, and make it all as easy as possible for you."

Soon they left her, telling her they'd give her time to review the files in private. But once the door closed behind them, she gave the files one sideways glance and then turned to go back to her bedroom.

Tomorrow, she thought. I'll deal with real life again tomorrow.

***

Danielle returned to work at The Washington Post the next morning. She'd promised herself only one day after the funeral to wallow and then back to business as usual. When she entered the news room, the din diminished noticeably. She noticed people trying not to notice her. People didn't know what to say. She understood. She herself found it difficult to deal with the raw edges of the grief of another. She would rather not be bothered or reminded anyway. She would rather get back to the news. However, when she reached her desk, there were several bouquets and baskets there waiting. And this was in addition to the many gifts that had been sent to the funeral from her colleagues. Danielle took a deep shuddering breath and decided to chase the elephant from the room so that she and everyone else could get on with it.

She turned to face everyone else in the room. "Um, thank you guys, for these lovely gifts and the ones that came to the funeral. I couldn't ask for a more outstanding support system. Listen, I want you all to know, I'm just fine, and we can all just go on like always, OK?" Danielle received many sympathetic smiles. People stood to give her hugs and express their caring for her and then it was done; the news room sprung back to life.

Relieved, Danielle took a seat at her desk. She pushed aside the flowers to have access to her computer. She fired it up and began her work day by catching up with her email. However, she wasn't very far into the task before another colleague approached her.

"Hi Dani," came his familiar resonating bass voice. Danielle's spine went ridged. She slowly swiveled in her chair until she looked up into his flawless, tan face. Dennis Fox was gorgeous, to be sure, in that perfectly manicured, perfectly coiffed, perfectly fictional type way.
How he'd once made her swoon; turned her into an inept, awkward, school girl. And now she looked at him and saw nothing authentic. A Greek godlike snake in the grass.

"Dennis," she replied curtly.

Dennis visibly squirmed and she reveled at the thought of making him uncomfortable. "I, uh, wanted to offer you my condolences."

A vibrant flash of anger warmed Danielle through and through. It made her remember she was alive. "Dennis, really don't bother," she spat.

Dennis' jaw dropped and he stared blankly at her. "Well that was rude, Dani," he growled in a sinister voice much more fitting of the man she'd come to know.

Danielle laughed and leapt from her seat. Though he was a head taller than she at least, she wasn't intimidated and she stood inches from his face. "You know what's rude, Dennis?" Danielle seethed. "What's rude is not coming to pay your respects to the people who put your sorry ass through college. What's rude is not saying goodbye to the people who MADE you. What's rude is that we've only been divorced FOUR WEEKS and not only are you already REMARRIED, your new WIFEY apparently couldn't let you support the woman who stood by you back when you were NOBODY! THAT'S all pretty fucking rude by way of thinking,
DENI
!"

The uncomfortable hush had once again transcended over the office and this time Danielle didn't care. Dennis was still standing speechless when Danielle spun and stalked from the news floor into the office of the Editor and Chief. She burst through the door and slammed it shut behind her.

"Margo," Danielle began, addressing her boss. "I'm sorry. I thought I could do this today, but I was wrong," she lamented, her cheeks flushed, her chest heaving.

Margo Applegate sat propped on the edge of her own desk, arms crossed across her Chanel suit. She nodded, always the cool one. "I understand completely, Danielle. You are under no obligation to return so soon."

"Well, see, that's the thing," Danielle continued. "I don't think I can do this at all anymore. I think I'm done…"

Margo's face creased with a sympathetic frown. After a moment of contemplative silence, she responded. "You've been a great asset to this team, Danielle. Though I'll be sorry to see you go, I certainly can't see how anyone would blame you for wanting to go. Given the…
Circumstances. Anything at all you need from me, you've got it. And I wish you the best."

***

Danielle left The Washington Post furious in a way only Dennis Fox could make her. She really couldn't believe she'd quit her job over that prick, but she felt phenomenal about it. She laughed while she cried on the short drive home.

Dennis Fox was Danielle's high school sweetheart and the only lover she'd ever known. At one time they'd been best friends and fantastic lovers. He was perfection. And she had been equally gorgeous with her curvy body, black hair spilling to her waist, wide dark eyes and full rosy lips. Additionally they shared a passion and talent for writing, investigation and news. Together, they'd been unstoppable.

They'd married with the full support of both their families practically as soon as they crossed the stage for their high school graduation. He came from a working class family with a loving mother and father and a slew of siblings; the polar opposite of her own family. She came from old money and a family that had died off completely save herself and her parents. Part of what she'd loved so much about Dennis had been his boisterous family life.

Her parents had generously put them both through college where they excelled and graduated with honors. Through those years there were many requests for grandchildren. Dennis had pressured her as well for kids. Though she wanted children very much, she was driven to launch her career first.

And launch it she did. Danielle had a penchant for broadcast news. She'd virtually risen to stardom over night as the gorgeous Gypsy like news anchorwoman that everyone craved. And Dennis had equal or greater success as a newspaper reporter, writing controversial posts in newspapers and magazines all over the country.

Finally, once she was well established in her field she and Dennis happily decided to get pregnant. Everything went smoothly and she'd conceived easily; a baby girl.  Once she decided she was ready for a baby, she couldn't be happier about being pregnant.  She had a wonderful pregnancy full of love, laughter, and late nights spent talking to the baby growing inside her.  Danielle couldn't have loved her more if she'd held the baby in her arms already.

They had been on top of the world until one snowy night changed it all.

Just weeks before the baby's due date, alone in her car, driving back into the city from her parents' country estate; Danielle was t-boned by a drunk driver. She never saw it coming, and remembered nothing about the accident. But when she came out of the coma two weeks later, half of her face was burned, and the baby was gone. Among other surgeries, she'd required a complete hysterectomy because of injuries sustained in the accident.