Put A Ring On It (8 page)

From the balcony outside the bedroom, Harlow gazed at the spectacular view of the ocean. Her mind was filled with troubling thoughts. She’d tossed and turned for hours last night, but had finally put two and two together. The morning light brought clarity and she now realized what those filthy stones were.

During her phone conversation with Vangie, her friend kept insisting that there was something suspicious about Drake’s business activities. Vangie had questioned why a person selling cars would need a bodyguard or have a reason to carry a gun. And now Harlow had the answer.

She took a sip of the strong island coffee, but had no appetite for the beautiful display of food that had been delivered ten minutes ago.

Drake joined Harlow on the balcony. Looking dapper in a dark tailored suit, he murmured, “Good morning,” and kissed her on the cheek.

“Morning,” she mumbled.

Drake picked up a piece of toast. “Did you sleep well, baby?”

She nodded and poured him a cup of coffee.

“You’re quiet. Is everything alright?”

Harlow took a deep breath. “I had a headache last night, and I needed…” She paused, gauging Drake’s expression.

He looked at her, waiting for her to continue, and then enlightenment shone in his eyes. “You opened that bottle of aspirin?”

“Yes, what’s going on, Drake? I know what those stones are.” Her lips curled in anger as she thought about the children in Africa being maimed and slaughtered. “I can’t believe you’d get involved in diamond smuggling.”

His eyes shifted nervously. “I’m not.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“I can explain.”

She held up her hand. Her ring finger glittered with the promise of forever. “Is this a blood diamond, too?” she asked, her face a mask of agony.

“No! I bought it from a jeweler in New York. I have the certification.”

Harlow’s face crumpled. “So you’re admitting that those are conflict diamonds in the bathroom.”

He nodded. “I believe they are.”

“How did you get involved? Do you love money so much that you’d become a part of something as heinous as that?”

“It’s not what you think,” Drake muttered, looking down.

“Then explain it. I know Talib has something to do with this. I guess he’s not the harmless fool that I thought him to be. He’s ruthless and—”

“Talib doesn’t have anything to do with those stones.”

“Then how’d you get them?”

“They were given to Alphonso by one of Talib’s men.”

“One of his bodyguards?”

“Yes, someone who’s using his connection with Talib to smuggle diamonds. The individual assumed that Alphonso was as thirsty and grimy as him. I’m guessing that the man thought that Alphonso would go along with the plan to use my cars as a front.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Handle it.”

“How? Those people who deal with diamond smuggling are evil. They’re dangerous! They kill!”

“I got this.”

She looked doubtful. “You’re not giving me the full story.”

Drake grasped her shoulders. “Look, baby. This is serious, and
I want you to go back to the States. I’ll join you in a week or so.”

“No!” she shouted. “I can’t leave you.” When she noticed Drake staring at her with a brow raised, she realized that she was clinging to his shirt sleeve. Self-conscious, she released her grip.

Drake’s voice softened. “I hate being away from you, Harlow. But I’ve got to deal with this.”

Her lip began to tremble. “We promised that we would never be apart.”

“I can’t put you in harm’s way. I need to know that you’re safe.”

“I want you to be safe, too.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be alright. I want you to make arrangements to fly back to New York.”

“I don’t want to go to New York. If I roam around that big apartment by myself, I’ll lose my mind worrying.”

“Do you want to go to Philly? Spend some time with your friends? I’ll join you there as soon as I can.”

“And what about the stones…what are you going to do with them?”

Drake shook his head. “It’s a delicate situation. The less you know about it, the better,” he said gloomily.

Pretending to be in high spirits, Harlow called Vangie.

“I never thought I’d miss the cold weather in Philly, but I do.”

“And…” Vangie said.

“I’m coming through!”

“You and Drake are leaving your island paradise to come to
Filthadelphia
?”

“Drake is staying in St. Croix, but I’m looking forward to seeing you and Yuri at some point during the holidays.”

“At some point?”

“I’m not exactly sure when I’m flying in.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Vangie said. “I’m excited about seeing you, but I don’t understand the sudden change in plans. You and Drake are always together. Is something wrong?”

Harlow hated lying to Vangie, but she had to. “Nothing’s wrong. Drake has some last-minute business details and he has to stick around. Girl, as much as I hate the thought of being apart from Drake, I’m a little shook from that incident on the ship. I’m actually looking forward to leaving St. Croix. Hopefully, Drake will tie up his deal and join me soon.”

“Aren’t you nervous about Drake dealing with that crazy African?”

“No, Drake said that Talib is harmless…a spoiled rich boy. Nothing but talk.”

“Rich and harmless…Hmm, maybe I should get with Talib,” Vangie said, laughing.

“Girl, Talib only deals with blonde, big-titty bimbos. By the way, have you spoken to Nivea? The three of us should get together when I get to town.”

“No, I haven’t been able to reach her. I’m kind of worried.”

“Don’t worry about Niv. I’m sure she’s fine,” Harlow said. “You should be grateful for the break from that Bridezilla. Didn’t you tell me that she’s obsessed with her wedding and talks about it all the time?”

“I know. Nivea is straight trippin’ over her wedding.”

“You don’t have to worry about me acting crazy. I’m going to be on chill mode. My wedding planner will handle everything from flowers to the glam squad that’s gonna beautify me and my bridal party.”

“That’s so exciting. How’s it feel to be rich, Harlow?”

“I’m not rich. Drake is.”

“Well, how’s it feel spending his money like water?” Vangie laughed.

“I love the lifestyle he’s giving me. But I’m in love with Drake; not his money.”

“I believe you, Harlow.”

“Sometimes I get really scared, you know?”

“Of what?”

“It’s irrational fear, but sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve happiness…I get this feeling that I’m going to lose Drake, that it’s all just a fantasy…too good to be true.”

“Girl, hush. If you don’t deserve happiness, then who does? Well, besides me?” Vangie laughed. “I’m getting so desperate. Hurry up and give Alphonso my number.”

“I haven’t had a chance to talk to Drake about it. But I will. I promise.”

“Great. Oh, yeah, please don’t set your wedding date close to Nivea’s. She’ll have a fit if she has to share her bridal limelight.”

Harlow snickered. “You’re right. I’ll run some dates past Miss Control Freak. I don’t want to steal any of her shine.”

“I think she’s marrying Eric because he allows her to be in control. She couldn’t stand to be with somebody who is her intellectual equal or someone who makes more money than her. She needs a man she can boss around.”

“It’s working for her. Eric loves her and doesn’t make a move without Nivea’s permission,” Harlow added.

“Will you be in Philly for New Year’s Eve? If so, let’s do something together.”

“I’ll let you know.”

“Why are you being so secretive, Harlow?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be secretive.”

“Something is up with you, but I’m going to drop the subject. Give me a call the moment you touch down. Oh, by the way, you’ll never guess where Yuri is?”

“With your mother?”

“That diva wouldn’t dream of interrupting her life to baby sit Yuri. He’s with Shawn.”

“Whaaat? How’d that happen?”

“Shawn is working at a barbershop in North Philly. Full-time! And he seems to be making good money. He gave me thirteen hundred dollars out of the clear blue sky. Says he wants to be a better dad, and I’m not gonna stand in his way. Yuri is thrilled about spending time with his dad. You should have seen the big grin on his face when Shawn picked him up this morning.”

“I hope Shawn doesn’t disappoint Yuri. You know, get him all excited and then vanish.”

“If he hurts my son, I’ll fuck him up. Do you hear me, Harlow? I’ll bust out all the windows of his car, I’ll blow up his momma’s house, and the barbershop—”

“Shut up, Vangie,” Harlow said, laughing.

“I’m serious. I’m giving him one more chance to make things right with his son, and he better not fuck it up.”

“For Yuri’s sake, I hope it works out.”

“I’m keeping my eye on Shawn. Can’t let my guard down…” Vangie paused. “Do you want me to pick you up at the airport when your flight gets in?”

“No, I’m good. A car service will get me to my hotel.”

“That’s right; I keep forgetting that you’re not regular folk anymore. Getting picked up in limos and shit must be nice.”

“It’s convenient. But be grateful for what you do have—your family and your health. I’ve never had any family…Seriously, you should be grateful for what you do have, Vangie.” There was sorrow in Harlow’s voice.

“You’re right, Harlow. Guess I’ll see you when you get here.” Vangie knew that Harlow had slipped into a blue mood. Harlow had no blood relatives, no family to come home to. Once Harlow and Drake started a family, Harlow’s life would finally be complete.

“I helped Daddy at the barbershop. I made ten dollars!” Yuri excitedly pulled crumpled dollars from his pocket.

“You’re rich, Yuri. You can buy our dinner tonight,” Vangie said, smiling. Then she gave Shawn a questioning look. “How’d he earn it? Don’t tell me you had my baby in the shop giving shape-ups,” she said, laughing.

Shawn chuckled. “Nah, he helped me sweep the hair up from the floor.” He ruffled Yuri’s hair. “I would still be in there sweeping around my station if my lil’ man hadn’t pitched in.”

Yuri’s grin stretched wider. “Daddy’s customers call me Little Shawn. Can I change my name to Shawn?”

“No, Yuri’s a beautiful name. Your father and I chose it together. Didn’t we, Shawn?”

Shawn nodded. “But it’s cool to go by Lil’ Shawn when you’re at the shop with me. Okay, buddy?”

“Okay. Can I go to work with you again tomorrow?”

“Fine with me, but you gotta ask your mother.” Both Shawn and Yuri stared at Vangie, waiting for a response.

Vangie shrugged. “I guess so.”

“Yay!” Yuri pumped his fist in the air.

“I want you in bed early, son. You need a lot of rest if you wanna hang with me.”

“What time should I go to bed, Daddy?”

Shawn looked up in thought. “Lights out by eight o’clock, son.”

“Okay!”

Vangie gave Yuri a long look. “Are you serious, Yuri? I can hardly tear you away from your videogames; now you can’t wait to get in the bed.”

“That’s my little working man,” Shawn said proudly. “I’m gonna swing by and pick you up at six-thirty in the morning, so I want you to be dressed and ready to roll out.”

“Okay, Daddy!”

“Isn’t the shop closed on Sundays?” Vangie asked.

“I told you, Clean Cutz stays open seven days a week. I usually work at least six days; sometimes seven. I got my hustle on. Trying to get mine so I can do right by my son.”

Vangie felt warmed by Shawn’s fervent desire to take care of Yuri.

“Did you cook, Vangie?” Shawn asked.

Righteously indignant, Vangie’s stuck her hand on her hip. “No! And whether I cook or not is none of your business.”

“Yo, chill. I’m not trying to get in your business. I was only asking, in case you wanted me to run out and pick something up real quick. Dag, I’m just tryna do a good deed.”

Both Yuri and Shawn glowered at her; Vangie felt like a villain. “How was I supposed to know your intentions? It’s gonna take some time for me to get used to you helping out and being dependable,” she explained.

Shawn asked Yuri, “What do you want to eat, man? Cheesesteak or pizza?”

“I want McDonald’s!” Yuri yelled.

“Okay. Let’s go get a grub on.” Shawn glanced at Vangie. “Should we bring Mommy back a Happy Meal?” Shawn asked teasingly.

Yuri giggled at the idea of his mother having a kids’ meal.

Vangie blushed, not sure if Shawn had made a sexual innuendo or if her imagination was going in overdrive.

“No, thanks. I’ve had enough McDonald’s to last a lifetime,” she said, shaking her head.

“What do you want? Do you still get cravings for sushi and spaghetti?” he asked, chuckling.

She smiled and shook her head. “Those crazy urges for a Japanese and Italian combo only happened while I was pregnant,” she said, fondly remembering her and Shawn driving to separate eateries to satisfy her pregnancy cravings.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“KFC,” she admitted. “Fried. I hate their grilled chicken.”

“Dark meat, right?” Shawn smiled slyly, informing Vangie that he remembered her preferences.

His thought fulness moved her, but once again, Vangie wasn’t sure if there was a sexual connotation in Shawn’s words:
Dark meat. Umph, umph, umph.
She wanted to douse herself with cold water as she recalled the thickness of Shawn’s personal dark meat.