The Deal, the Dance, and the Devil (32 page)

“Whatever you want to call it, I’m askin’. Are you pregnant?”

She paused, too long for me. But just when I was about to reach across the desk and snatch her, she said, “No, I’m not pregnant. I think that time has passed for me.”

“You said your hope was to be pregnant,” I said, pushing her, because she needed to explain this whole thing to me.

“I was talking about years gone by.”

Then, in the flash of a second, I saw something in Shay-Shaunté’s eyes. What was it? Sadness? No, it was deeper than that. Sorrow? Yeah, sorrow mixed with regret. Maybe even some grief thrown in.

Just as quickly those emotions disappeared.

“So,” I began, wanting to make this clear, “you are not pregnant … by my husband.”

She leaned forward. “I got a lot of things from your husband this weekend, but a child wasn’t one of them.”

She was pushing it, but I told myself to let it slide.

“I wasn’t trying to get pregnant,” she added.

That was when I should’ve left. I should’ve just turned around and walked right out of her office. But I didn’t.

“But though I may not have gotten pregnant by Adam, he definitely gave me my five million dollars’ worth all … weekend … long.” She paused, so that I could take in those words, I guess. But she didn’t give me a standing ten-count, didn’t
give me a chance to breathe before she added, “And I gave it all right back to him.” Now, she laughed. Tossed her head back and roared, really.

I felt like two cents.

The knife was already in … and the twist came when she said, “It was so good between Adam and me that I think I’m going to go back for seconds.”

She was unbelievable, and if I didn’t hate her so much, I would admire her. Because she came to the battle prepared. She had her own switchblade—her words, which were deadlier than any weapon I could carry.

I staggered toward the door.

“Oh, yes,” she said, her words following me. “I think I’ll give Adam a call,” she taunted.

I was halfway to my office when she shouted, “If you quit, I will sue you.”

I moved like I’d already planned my exit strategy. Maybe somewhere inside, I had. Maybe I already knew that today was going to be the day that it was over. Maybe leaving was as close to victory as I could get.

Inside my office, I swung my coat over my shoulders, then snatched my purse. I glanced at the picture frames that covered my desk and the plants that I’d nurtured. But I didn’t have any time to pack. I had to get out now because if I saw Shay-Shaunté again, I was either going to cry or kill her, and neither would work out well for me.

With a farewell glance around my office, I opened my door.

Shay-Shaunté was standing right there.

Today, I’d come into Ferossity determined to be victorious. But it was Shay-Shaunté who wore triumph and delight all over her face.

And rightfully so. Because after what she’d said to me, what she’d done today and yesterday and Monday—I had to give it
to her. Shay-Shaunté was on a whole ’nother level. The only way for me to survive was to get totally out of this game.

She smiled. And warned, “I will sue you.”

“Do what you have to do.” I aimed for her shoulder and bumped her on purpose as I pushed past. I know—it was a dastard’s way out, but what else could I do? It was the only way to get in just one blow.

But after I made contact, I had to work hard to keep my scream inside. Dang! I stopped and rubbed my arm for a second. The woman didn’t look that solid, but I felt like I’d hit a concrete block.

I didn’t spend too much time on my aching arm, though. Without looking back, I headed toward the staircase. For the last time.

I was getting the hell out of Ferossity.

Chapter 54

A
LL
I
HAD TO DO WAS
tell him what she said about being pregnant, about him giving her five million dollars’ worth, and about her going back for seconds. Once I told him all of that, Adam would understand.

I didn’t know how we would fight Shay-Shaunté in court, but truth? I was sure that mud duck was lying. She wasn’t going to sue us; the threat was all part of her game. After all, would she want the world to know that she, Shay-Shaunté, the billionaire beauty mogul had to pay for sex? Naw! She was too smart, too private for that.

One thing was certain—she was smarter than me and Adam. I could not believe that we had fallen for this. All we’d been able to see was the money. Neither one of us—with all our degrees—had looked past our problems to see the consequences of this choice. Because it had been far more than a decision—it was a choice that we’d made, and it had brought crazy into our lives.

So now we had to deal. And we would deal. Shay-Shaunté could trust that.

I worked this all out in my head as I drove toward home. An extra bit of relief flowed through me when I saw Adam’s car in the garage.

As I slammed my car door, I wondered if Adam had heard the garage open. If he had, he already knew that there was a problem. Why else would I be home before noon?

Stepping inside, I heard his voice right away. It sounded as if he was on a call, a business call maybe.

He said, “Yes.” He paused, and I shrugged off my coat. He said, “Yes.” He paused, and I kicked off my shoes. He said, “Yes, Shay-Shaunté,” and my heart stopped beating. But when he said, “I’ll talk to you soon,” I barreled into the living room, arms flailing like a windmill, eyes on fire with fury.

I snatched the telephone before Adam could take two breaths. “You’re talking to her?” I didn’t even recognize my own scream. I hurled the phone, smashing it against the wall. With a thud, it splattered into a thousand little pieces.

“Evia!” Adam jumped up from the couch. “Calm down.”

“You were talking to her?”

“Because she called here!” His hands cut through the air, moving as if he was trying to get me to lower my voice.

“So, you
are
still involved with her?” I cried.

“No! She wanted to talk to you. She said you’d quit and she wanted to remind you that she was going to sue us if you didn’t come back.”

“I’m not going back there,” I screamed. “Do you know what she said to me?”

“Calm down,” he said.

“She said that she was pregnant. And she insinuated that you were the father of her baby!”

“Mom!”

The breath I inhaled at that moment almost choked me. With wide eyes, I turned and stared into Alana’s terrified face.

“Sweetheart!” I called to her, but I didn’t move right away. First I had to cover the tears that drenched my face. I had to hide my hysteria. I had to make myself look presentable before I could go anywhere near my horrified daughter.

“What are you doing home?” I asked, as if that was the most important point of this moment.

Her face was still frozen with shock when she said, “Daddy came to school and got me.” Her voice sounded robotic. “I was really sick and I threw up and the nurse sent me home.”

Since he was far more composed than I was, I let him speak. “Go back upstairs, sweetheart. Everything is all right.”

I could’ve done better than that. Apparently, Alana thought so, too, because she turned from her father and spoke directly to me. “Are you all right?”

I nodded because I wasn’t sure if my voice could be trusted.

“See, sweetheart,” Adam said. His calm in the middle of this turbulence was so soothing, and I wondered who it was meant for—Alana or me. He said, “I want you to rest.”

She nodded, though the way her eyes shifted back and forth let me know that she was unsure. “Okay.” Then, “Mom, can you come upstairs with me?”

I didn’t have to look at Adam. Feeling him, I knew that he wasn’t crazy about me being alone with our daughter. Frankly, I agreed.

He asked, “Alana, do you want me to—”

“No!” She didn’t let him finish. “I want Mom to come with me.”

The discussion was closed when our fifteen-year-old pivoted, then marched up the steps. As if she was the parent and I was the child, I followed her.

The seconds that it took for us to climb the stairs gave me the time I needed for my blood pressure to drop and my heart to start beating again.

Inside her bedroom, she faced me with arms folded, leaning slightly to the left, one leg just inches in front of the other.

A fighting stance.

I said, “I really want you to get some rest,” as if she hadn’t just witnessed her mother playing the part of a madwoman.

“What’s going on with you and Dad?”

Okay, her moment for behaving like the parent was over. I shook my head as I pulled back her comforter.

The child returned. “Mom!” she whined. “Something’s going on. Something bad. And I want to know.”

I took a breath before I motioned for her to get in the bed. “There’s nothing that I need to discuss with you.” Once she was under the covers, I added, “This is between me and your father. And like he said, we’ll be fine.”

“Is he having an affair?”

I stiffened but said, “No,” without further explanation.

“You said that he’d gotten someone pregnant.”

Oh, God. “I said that someone was accusing him of getting her pregnant,” giving too much of an explanation.

“If someone can accuse him, that means he’s having an affair,” she cried.

How was I supposed to stay the composed mother when all I wanted to do right now was crumble? “Look, it’s complicated, but I don’t want you to worry.” The tears in my daughter’s eyes told me that the hurt that Shay-Shaunté had brought to me had been passed to my child. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I stroked the side of her face. “Really, Alana, you know your father and me. You know we have a wonderful marriage, don’t you?”

She paused, as if she had to think about that. “You used to,
but … ever since Dad left on New Year’s, everything’s been different.”

I’d worked hard to keep all of this away from my children, but though I could block what they heard, I couldn’t block what they felt.

I said, “Have you ever been upset with Alexa?”

She peered at me through puzzled, squinted eyes as if she wondered if the crazy woman that she’d seen in the living room had returned. Because obviously, my question had nothing to do with what was going on now. But since she’d been raised right, she answered, “Yes.”

“Even when you were upset, you still loved your sister, right?”

“Yes.”

“Your anger was just for a moment.”

She nodded.

“And then, when you weren’t angry anymore, it kinda made your relationship as sisters a little better, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s what’s going on with your dad and me. It’s not a big deal. We had a little disagreement, but I promise you in a few days, we’ll be back, even better than before.”

She nodded again, now understanding the analogy. “But the other lady.”

“There is no other lady!” My tone closed the door—there would be no further discussion.

Her eyes tested me; she stared as if she was trying to see if there was an opportunity to ask just one more question. But seeing no opening, she just sighed. Said, “I never thought that you and Daddy really ever got mad at each other.”

“We’re human, sweetheart.” I kissed her cheek. “I’ll be right downstairs if you need me.”

“’Kay.”

In the hallway, just as I was about to close her door, Alana
yelled out, “I love you,” as if she knew that those were the exact words that I needed to hear.

Thank God for the sensitive one.

Slowly, softly, I stepped down the stairs. But still, Adam felt me. He was waiting at the entrance of the living room when I got to the bottom landing.

“Is she all right?” he asked.

I nodded but didn’t give him anything else. Before he could ask for more, I said, “We have to talk.”

His glance wandered above me. Moved to the second floor, as if he could see through walls. “Not here.”

I agreed; I wanted to keep my anger in check, but there were no guarantees. I didn’t recognize myself, my life anymore. I had no idea what would happen next.

So I walked past him, through the living room, headed to the garage. When I opened the door to the passenger side of the SUV, he was right there beside me; he helped me step in.

From his driver’s side, he pressed the remote, and when he shifted the car into reverse and backed out, I said, “We can’t leave. Alana.”

“I know.” He stopped at the end of our driveway and peered through the windshield, again his gaze on the second floor of our home, as if he could now see through brick.

With a shake of his head, he twisted the steering wheel, then eased to the curb and parked in front of our home.

When he turned off the ignition, I said, “I’m sorry she heard me.” My eyes were still looking for signs of our daughter watching.

“I tried to get you to calm down.”

Even though I was the one who’d lost control, I was critical of him. “You should’ve told me that she was upstairs.”

“It happened too fast.” He shook his head. “Everything is happening too fast.”

I understood what he meant. The deal had begun five days ago. Five days were more powerful than our sixteen years. “We have to fix this,” I said.

He nodded. “I know.”

Then he angled his body so that he faced me; I did the same.

He took my hand and drew a deep breath. “I know it’s going to be hard, but you have to go back to Ferossity.”

This was where he wanted to start the conversation? Even after I told him about her claiming to be pregnant?

I shook my head. “It’s not going to happen.” I kept holding on to his hands, though, when I added, “I just don’t have enough in me.”

He nodded, as if he understood, but he didn’t have a clue. If he did, he’d be on my side.

So I told him everything that she’d said. Started with the five million dollars and how she was going back to him for seconds.

He released a long whistle, as if he couldn’t believe it.

“But as awful as that was,” I said, “as awful as everything has been this week, the worst thing, Adam, is that she said she was pregnant.” I left out the part about how she’d changed her story. I wanted Adam to be focused on just how miserable it had been for me.