The Charade (28 page)

Chapter 22

Sweat poured from underneath my armpits as Tyson and I sat in the parking lot at Stellar Advertising. I hadn’t been there in weeks. He hadn’t either. It was five minutes before noon. If I was going to sweat, I was glad it was under my arms and not down my chest – that’s where the wire was.

The only way for Victor to clear his name was for Tyson to come forward to the FBI. But just coming forward wouldn’t be enough. There needed to be dope on the table as Agent Fulton said. They needed cold, hard evidence to make an arrest of Michael Holden. It was suggested that Tyson and I meet with Michael to negotiate a deal for me to go to the press as another woman who said she was assaulted by Victor.

I was totally against it. I wasn’t a good liar and I hated being under pressure. But Victor’s livelihood was in the balance and I’d do anything for him to get his name cleared. Tyson made a call to Michael and a meeting with him was arranged.

“It’s done,” Tyson said as he ended the call with Michael. “Twelve noon, Tuesday.” Michael didn’t understand why another girl needed to come forward; the damage was done and Victor already resigned from Stellar. Tyson explained to him if he truly wanted to crush Victor, me coming forward would do it. It’d be the nail in the coffin. Tyson told him that I had recently left Victor and had come back to be with Tyson after the scandal broke the trust of our relationship. He said I was full of vengeance and wanted to get back at Victor at all costs.

Michael bought it, hook, line, and sinker. There was no one left in his corner. If I left Victor at his lowest moment, going to the press as another victim would drive Victor to insanity – which was what Michael wanted.

I sat in the car and the howl of the wind chilled my bones more than they already were. My teeth chattered and my heart wanted to burst out of my chest. I breathed slowly and closed my eyes.

“Calm down, Natasha. It’ll be over before you know it,” I uttered softly.

A white van parked in the back next to the taco place. Three agents were inside listening on the wire.

‘Just be calm,’ they told me. They coached me the entire weekend. Poise, patience, and practice they said.

Once Michael agreed on the terms. They would rush in and apprehend him.

Tyson looked over at me and nodded slightly. He had a look of stone on his face.

It was time.

I wasn’t ready but I didn’t have time to think about if I was or not. The time had come.

Tyson and I walked into the office and up to the elevator. We gave each a solemn glance.

My hand trembled as I pushed the elevator button for the “eleventh” floor. I tried to brush it off, but Tyson saw it. I cleared my throat to play it off. He gave me a stern look as if to say get it together.

The bell signaled and the doors opened and we were greeted by Michael Helton’s administrative assistant. She introduced herself as Martina and said we were right on time. She escorted us into his office.

“Welcome,” he said. His voice boomed. He smiled, extending his hand to Tyson and then to me. “Please have a seat.”

He was as charming as he was the time that we first met. It made me sick to my stomach.

My contempt for him grew with each syllable he uttered. “Once you get before those television screens…people will fawn over you. People will melt once they hear your story. You’re instantly believable. You were born in this city correct?”

I barely let him finish his question. “Listen, I’m not here for the small talk. Why were here should be the matter at hand.” I surprised myself with my sharp tone. Tyson’s neck quickly jutted over to me and Michael’s eyes blossomed. It seemed like my response enthralled him further.

He got up and poured a glass of water. He took a sip and smiled. “Your gall is admirable. By all means then.”

My heart wanted to burst out of my chest. If you would have told me I would be knee deep in a scandal that rocked the city at the core I would have thought you were crazy. FBI agents, wires, bribes, I didn’t know which way was up. Just a few more minutes and this would be over. For Victor. For me. And for us.

It was at that very moment I knew I loved Victor. For me to experience this ordeal and still stand by him, unable to break our connection, it had to be love. I stood against the onslaught of his world crashing down.

Michael gave a cursory glance to Tyson. “Shall we discuss terms?” he asked. Tyson nodded. “Same as before?” He sat down and folded his leg on top of the other and placed his intertwined fingers on his knees. For someone who was destroying the livelihood of another man, he seemed relaxed – too relaxed – like this was as normal as twisting the cap off of a bottle or putting cream in coffee. He was so subdued, it frightened me. A bead of sweat dripped down the curvature of my spine.

“No,” Tyson said. Michael’s face contorted in disbelief. “Only on the basis that this is the closest person to him.”

I sat there terrified. He would see right through me. He’d see right through the charade and it would be over. Victor’s name and reputation would be ruined forever. It’d be all my fault. All the practice we did over the weekend would’ve have been for nothing. I would have failed Victor. The way Michael looked at me gave me a sour feeling in my stomach. I felt like nothing but a pawn in a sadistic game he played. Once he was done with me, he’d pluck me off the chessboard, discarding me like I was never planted there in the first place.

“And?” Michael asked.

“She’s putting a lot on the line and she was the most important person in his life.”

I interjected.

“We all know Victor,” I said. “He doesn’t take loss well. Especially the loss of a woman. He’ll get over losing a business, but losing a woman, a woman that he actually gave his heart to, he won’t take the loss so well. Since I left him, he’s sent me flowers everyday. He’s a mess. This will break him.”

“Why did you leave him?” Michael asked. He brought his clasped fingers up to his lips and closed his eyes.

“After all he’s put me through, I couldn’t trust him anymore. My trust in him was shaky already, and when all of this started, I was done. The trust was broken.”

A few moments of silence passed. “Mr. Jones. Your figure?”

Here it was. Time for the moment of truth.

The plan was, after Tyson stated the number and Michael agreed, agents would rush in and handcuffs would be placed on his wrists.

“One point five million,” I said. Michael’s eyes pierced through me.

“It makes sense why you and Victor were together. Negotiation was never his strong suit.”

“That number isn’t something out of thin air. It’s for protection. Relocation. I was the only woman he’s ever loved. Doing this will destroy him. I fear that after all that’s been done to him recently, me coming forward will put my life in jeopardy. I really believe he’d try to physically harm me after it’s all said and done.”

“Fine.” He looked annoyed by now.

“And I’d like one hundred thousand right up front.”

He smiled slightly. “Do you think I have millions of dollars in cash just sitting around here?” Again, he smiled slightly. “However, I figured you would say that.” He walked over to a closet and opened the doors. There was a black safe, nearly the same height as me. He punched a code in and it unlocked. He grabbed a few stacks of dollar bills and threw them in a manila folder which was inside the safe. He gave the folder to Tyson and he put in his briefcase. I never had that amount of money in my face at one time.

“Agreed.” He took another sip of water. “You report to me now. This Friday we will meet. A car will be at your residence to bring you to me at an undisclosed location.”

“How do you know where I live?”

“I just gave you one hundred thousand in cash,” he chuckled to himself, “I know more about you than
you
do.”

Tyson and I stood up.

The office doors suddenly burst wide open.

Three men in suits with nine-millimeter pistols on their waste rushed through the door.

Victor sauntered in behind them.

One agent showing his badge, pulling handcuffs out of his pockets said, “Michael Helton, you’re under arrest for extortion.” Michael said nothing while the silver bracelets were being slammed onto his wrists. His look was emotionless. His penetrating eyes lifted from Tyson and me, to Victor who walked over to the fracas.

Victor graced the room like he walked onto a promenade. He was dressed immaculately. His hair was closely shaven and his facial hair was trimmed to a goatee. He wore a pristine, gray flannel suit. He appeared to be waiting for this moment. And the look on his face showed that he relished in the fact that the man who singlehandedly brought him to near destruction was in handcuffs, facing years in prison.

Michael still looked stoic and unmoved by the entire situation.

“This isn’t over. It’s only the beginning,” he said staring at Victor. The agents read Michael his rights and the two men’s faces caught and deadlocked on each other’s. “My team of lawyers will have you for breakfast,” Michael said.

“Wait,” Victor said. The two men who were taking Michael in custody stopped right before the door. “Just tell me why.” He looked clueless. He needed closure. This was the man who mentored him.

Michael looked back, his neck stretching as far as it could go. “Just business,” Michael said. The men took him out of the room as people stood outside of their offices into the lobby outside of Michael’s office surveying the scene.

Victor, Tyson and I stood silent as more federal officers filed into the room, taking in evidence. Relief set in our faces. I hugged Victor mightily. “It’s over,” I said.

“Thanks to you,” he said. He gripped me tighter than he ever did before. “It’s over, thanks to you.”

Chapter 23

Weeks later

It was winter back home, but it was summer where Victor and I touched down. Somewhere in the Caribbean islands. Someplace where the pineapples tasted sweeter and the air whistled in your lungs making hypnotic music. I couldn’t exactly say where we were, I really didn’t know. And it really didn’t matter.

After we got off the plane, it seemed like my senses opened up. Fat, cotton ball-like clouds floated in the dense blue sky above my heads. I could smell the sweet smell of coconut in the air, ready to be split open and sip the sweet nectar. I was still trying to take it all when we were helicoptered to the island which looked beautiful.  As we flew from above, palm trees, white sands and blue waters were all I could see. This was my first time vacationing in a tropical climate and I was already smitten by its charm. Every color that caught my eye - the sky, the huge hills we drove up and down on the way to the house, and the small animals that peeked its head out of the grassy hideaways – was saturated. It was like candy to my eyes.

“No paparazzi, no cameras, no scandals…no crazy family,” Victor said smirking.

“You’re calling my family crazy?” I said pinching his arm.

“I call it like I see it,” he shot back, rubbing his arm.

“We’re really doing this?” My voice was mixed with joy and a bit of fear.

“Absolutely.”

“This is insane.”

“Really? I could have them turn the chopper around and take us home if you like.” He started giggling. I shook my head furiously from left to right.

“You mean trade in this clear water and sand for twenty inches of snow? I don’t think so.” I laughed so hard I snorted.

After our helicopter landed we got in a truck and our driver, Gene awaited us. We got in the truck and he took us from open road to back trails, dodging trees and small animals along the way.

We finally made it to the house or what Victor called it – The Hideout. He was absolutely correct in his nickname. We pulled up to the black, steel gate and Victor entered the pass code.

We circled the cobblestone cul de sac and my jaw dropped. Victor said the home was over fourteen thousand square feet, complete with six beaches, a lagoon, a tennis court, an immense garden with a variety of exotic fruits and vegetables, and two boat docks.

“Home sweet home,” Victor said as we walked through the doors. It would only be us on the island. The small staff – a maid, chef and groundskeeper – would be joining us in a few weeks.

The home was beautiful. It was a modern Balinese style home, inspired by ancient temples and palaces. The colors of the place were warm, bold, and rich. The hard wood floors, stone carvings, bamboo-treated designs made me feel serene like I was at a retreat somewhere in the eastern part of the world.

The entire place smelled of sautéed salmon and coconut. And that wasn’t a bad thing. The scent seemed to be infused with it, adding a character the place.

I looked out past the cabana and saw huge waves crashing into each other. I was drawn to it. I kissed Victor on the cheek and let get things situated while my sights were set on sprawling out over the warm, white sands.

While Victor tended to the house, I grabbed a beach towel and a bottle of ice-cold rum I bought at the airport and immediately headed towards the beach. Victor said he’d go down to the freezer and grab a few things to cook for us. He said he was making smoked salmon. A seaside picnic. It sounded delightful.

The sands were almost bleach-white and the water was a royal blue. Electric-like. I took off my dress and stripped down to the nude. I lay down on top of the bed of sand, feeling tiny, hard seashells dig into my bottom. I wiggled the sand between my fingers and toes. It felt like velvet. Droplets of sweat dribbled onto the skin of my forehead. I took off my aviator glasses and my fisherman hat and flung them aside.

The sounds of the waves crashing into each other felt refreshing – even after the one hundredth consecutive time. I felt free. The rhythm of the ocean gently sung me to a slumber.

Before I drifted off, I thought about what I left behind me at home.

The only person who I told I was staying down on the island for an extended period of time was Matt – who I actually started calling dad. He wished me well. The door was open for him to visit me anytime and he accepted.

I told my mom – who was still reeling from the entire situation – I was staying down there for two weeks, maybe three. I would hold off on telling her the truth until her heart could take it.

And as for my cousin Gabby, I had no words for her. I know she was coerced into it, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak to her. Before I left, she at least called me several times a day to apologize. I never answered the phone. Maybe in time I could forgive her, but not now. Things were still too new, too raw.

It was the first time I slept well in weeks. I slept like a baby. I asked myself over and over could I get used to living on a private island for a while. And I could. Especially after what Victor and I went through, not only did he need an escape, so did I.

The island was off the coast of Antigua. He bought the island a few years ago, but never visited more than a weekend. Victor had it all planned out. The first week it would be just us. He’d catch fish and lobster and I’d be lazy and just watch him. Or I’d have a drink in my hand and I’d watch him. For breakfast we’d have fish, grits and mangos.

We were away from the world – just how he wanted it.

***

It must have been about two hours before Victor woke me up. He wore a black tank top and cargo shorts. Two plates of smoked salmon, steamed asparagus, and fresh pineapple were in his hands. “Naked,” he said smirking, “just the way I like it.”

“Hmmm. A beachside dinner?” I asked.

“Exactly.”

We sat and looked out towards the vast, blue ocean, munching on our food in silence. We didn’t have much to say. We didn’t want to. We let nature speak and soaked in the rays from the sun which was at its crest.

“Victor this place is amazing,” I said breaking the silence.

“Isn’t it? And you haven’t even gone inside to look at the house.”

“What can I say? I hit the ground running.” I grabbed a beach towel and wrapped it around me. “This is a dream. It’s more than anything I imagined.”

“And this is the first day. Just wait until you see the rest of the island.”

“Can I ask you a question?” I put on my shades.

“Sure.” His eyebrows perked up.

I shook my head, still confused by it all. “So you can just turn your back on it?” I snapped my fingers. “Just like that?”

He popped a pineapple slice into his mouth and chortled. “Yup.”

“I don’t understand. You’ve worked your whole life to live like this.” I motioned my hand around the scenic view. “You’re just able to turn off the switch and walk away from it all? Because of some jerk who had it in for you?”

“Well, this was in the works for a while.” He turned his gaze towards the water in front of us. “After Ben passed, it really changed my perspective on things. Brick and mortar things and material items instantly became disposable. I realized relationships and the people you hold close aren’t. I looked around and I didn’t have anyone close to me. I pushed a lot of them away. Including you.”

“You did. But I’m here now.”

“I was lucky you didn’t shut me out for ever. I’m thankful for that. You helped me realize what life is about. What it’s
really
about. This is want life is about.” The second we stepped foot off the plane, Victor looked better than he ever did. The color in his skin deepened. And not from a suntan, but from getting away from the madness that was sucking him in. His eyes were brighter and his posture changed. He started to act like a twenty-something instead of a stern, shrewd businessman. “Life isn’t about what I thought it was about.”

“And what was that?”

“Power.”

“I thought you were going to say women or sex…or money. Can’t you have both? The money and meaningful, loving relationships?”

“It’s possible. But it wasn’t my reality. It’s just money. Money isn’t static. It’s always changing hands. It’s just a transfer. It’s not tangible. Love isn’t like that. You can
feel
love. Money is just a tool. It was never my motivation. I think that’s why it was so easy I guess to leave. I saw what it did to me and the people around me, that I just needed out before it destroyed me.”

“It nearly did.”

“I never got a chance to use my money to help people.”

“Watching the sun reflect off of the crystal clear water on a white sand beach with the woman you love…that’s life.” My body jerked when I heard him say the L-word.

“The woman you…love?” I nearly choked on the words.

He turned and faced me, grabbing my hands. “Yes, Natasha. I love you.*” Our lips met. “You taught me what love means. I never thought it was possible.”

“I love you too, Victor.”

“I never thought I’d say those words. It sounds beautiful.” I snuggled up next to him. He wrapped his arms around me and fed me bites of asparagus as the sun slowly made its descent into the horizon.

I sat cuddled with him tracing his fingers through my hair watching the sky fill with streaks of oranges and purples.

“That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on,” I said. It truly was an amazing site to see.

“That’s what I told myself when I first saw you,” he said. I smiled. I knew he meant it.

Victor dotted the top of my head with tiny kisses. I squeezed his hand and our fingers intertwined. His smooches traveled down to my forehead, which was moist from the dwindling sunshine.

He ventured from my cheeks to my mouth, meshing his soft lips against mine. It was the most sensual kiss we ever had. Maybe it was from finally putting everything behind us. Maybe it was because of the island. I don’t know, but whatever it was, it captured me. Small pecks transitioned into him devouring my mouth, his tongue discovering the ridges of my teeth and sucking my tongue.

He gently grabbed my hair and cocked my head back, exposing my neck and consumed every inch of my skin from my tender shoulder blade to my jawline.

The heat between my legs began to rise. My thighs squirmed together in wanting anticipation.

He replaced his mouth with his nose, tracing back up to the corner of my lips. He paused at my mouth, half open and dry.

“Kiss me,” I said, nearly begging him at this point. The tension inside of me was so close to bubbling to the surface.

He snickered and snuck kisses towards my ear. “Not just yet,” he said. He was playing a seductive game of cat and mouse – and it made me hotter and wetter by the moment. I decided to take matters into my own hands – literally. I grabbed his crotch from outside of his shorts, rubbing his hardness. It did the trick. A moan escaped his mouth.

My rubbing transformed to stroking, his cock became fully erect, poking out of his shorts. I grabbed his neck to be face to face with him. Our breaths, short and constricted, mixed. Our lips inches away from each other. Throbbing. Swollen. We pressed together and I slid off his shorts. And he threw the towel I was wrapped in off of me. His hand kneaded my breast. My hand stroked his cock, rotating it from the base up to his head, dripping fluid. I took my thumb and lubricated his tender head with his pre-come. He bucked forward and called out my name.

There were no angry neighbors to disturb this time. It was just the two of us.

Suddenly he grabbed ahold of me and flipped me on my back.

He stood on his knees and pulled off his tank, revealing his taut chest. His cock was at full attention, proud and steady. “Do you mind if I fuck you with my mouth?” I knew it wasn’t a question. I nodded squirming above the sand in anticipation, moments to being taken to my utmost threshold.

He placed his lips above my knee, kissing it slightly. The fingers on his left hand traversed my inner thigh, tickling me, making my back curl up. I cupped my breasts and pinched my nipples until they tightened.

Usually he was aggressive, but this time he was slow, steady, measuring kisses up my thigh to my wet slit.

His lips embraced my swollen clit the same way he would have my mouth – dominating it, claiming it, then kissing it softly and then devouring it. The sounds he made enhanced my desire.

His hands scooped up my thighs, pinning me in place. I gyrated above the sand so much that my skin chaffed. Him burying his tongue inside my walls blocked out the slight pain. His tongue slithered into to my snatch, deeper and more forceful with each pump. “Oh Victor,” I cried out to the sky. I massaged by breasts harder, the imprint from my hands made them bright red and he replaced his tongue with his finger, stroking it slowly, then faster, and then he added another. Harder. Like he wanted to push though me.

He began to flick my wet, welcoming pussy, teasing, tormenting, torturing my plump, swelled clit with his tongue, flicking it rapidly and then slowing down, circling it round and round, blowing on it after three or four motions all while he pumped two slick fingers inside of me.

The sensation from his mouth became my unraveling. I grabbed his head and pushed him further into my pussy, my body jerked frenziedly as an orgasm ripped though me. Out of breath, I yelped, “I want you in me now.”