Shh...Mine (This. Is. Not. Over.) Page 18

  I run my hands up and down Danielle’s ass. God, last night was good. There’s a lot that anger and frustration can do to a man and woman who have spent over a decade wanting each other. It can manifest in many ways, one way is a night of love making that makes you forget that her ex-husband is trying to destroy the two of you. I know he’s behind all of this. I’ve seen his messages. He left his phone on the table after breakfast at Plantation’s Kitchen. I borrowed for a while before dropping it back off that evening, oops, sorry, this isn’t mine. A few hours was more than enough time to copy his SIM card, retrieve his phone’s ID and store the information away for a time like this. Remember, I fix shit. I do this all the time. With his copied SIM card and phone ID, I can remote into his device until he upgrades to another one. I began remoting into Jon’s cell after Piranha. Why? Well Danielle told me the next day that they were supposed to meet at Bass’s Bar but then Marlon texted Jasmine at the last minute, changing the venue. He then confessed to Jasmine that Jon’s the one who switched the plans. As soon as Danielle told me that, I knew that he was remoting into my phone. He’s an IT guy; he does this shit for a living. Remoting is one thing, harassing Red is another. I was waiting to receive concrete information before I accused him of harassing her but I can’t find it, so I’m going with my gut on this. This is Jon’s doing.

  “Radiohead’s in New York tomorrow. You want to go see them?” I feel her breathing stop against my neck. Is that good or bad? She climbs on top of me now and begins kissing my neck and starts laughing. “What?”

  “Inside joke between Jasmine and me. Oh, I’ve got to text her and tell her I’m going back to see Radiohead again, she’ll be so jealous.” She reaches for the phone on my bedside table.

  “No.” I say that a little too loud. Her eyes meet mine and I hope she doesn’t see the strain in them. I let a smile reach them before running my hands down her back. Slowly, she retreats her hand. Shit, how am I going to explain that?

  “Everything okay?” She slides off of me and onto her side of the bed.

  “I want you to be careful for the next few days while I wrinkle out some kinks.” That seems to pacify her. She eases back over to me and lays her arm over my chest.

  “No phone?” She sounds nervous, damn I don’t want to make her nervous. I drag her back on top of me again. Don’t be nervous, baby.

  “Call people, don’t text.”

  “What’s the difference?” The difference is that Jon’s been remoting into your text messages and having them forwarded to his phone, he hasn’t been able to wire your phone calls. He’s not that damn good.

  “A text can be documented and a call can’t be, not unless you’re wired.”

  “Malcolm, do you think my phone’s wired?” Her body stiffens on me. “My god, she is insane!” She tries to slide off of me but I stop her.

  “You’re not wired.”

  “Malcolm.”

  “Yeah baby.”

  “How did you know that I was going to Rena’s last night?” Oh, that’s easy, you texted Jon and I’ve been remoting into his cell phone.

  “I saw you drive off in the cab and it was heading away from Watertown, I figured you were going to Rena’s.”

  “How do you know where she lives?”

  “Not many people named Rena Beauvais in Boston. I looked her up.” Damn, now I’m lying to her. Shit, this has gone too far.

  “I called Rena after Laura stole my car.” She exhales. “I liked that car.”

  “I’ll get you another one.”

  “Okay, big shot.” She nudges me in my side. I wrap my arm around her tighter. “This has to be cleared up before Nicky comes back.”

  “Christmas is in three weeks; let’s make plans to head to Hilton Head the day he’s supposed to come back. Maybe stay there for a week? Business is usually slow around this time. By then, I’ll have this all sorted out.”

  “That sounds perfect. My friends will come down too and before you say anything, they’re deathly afraid of me so you don’t have to worry about talks of Jon.” She kisses my chest. Damn, I love this woman. “I’ll call my parents today, I’m sure they can make it down too.” Her hand runs down my stomach. “Now I’m happy again.”

  “Good.” I kiss her forehead. “That’s all I want.”

  And then I hear our phones buzz at the same time. Oh, shit.

  “That was weird.” She says, laughing as she climbs over me and grabs her phone off of the dresser. She reads the message and I gauge her response. Nothing. She doesn’t even respond. She smiles at me and puts her phone back next to mine. Take that Jon, she isn’t even answering you. We lay next to each other in peaceful silence for a while and then I feel her head grow heavier against my chest. I slide my hand over to my phone to read the message.

  Jon 5:45am: Thinking about you. You okay?

  Me 6:12am: She’s perfect, cocksucker. NY, tomorrow, 8pm, Four Seasons, Midtown

  December 9th

  And of course he came with backup. But no worries, so did I.

  Red, Nat, Dena, Jacob, Winnie and I headed to New York this morning for the Radiohead concert. Of course the ladies dragged us to see the Rockettes and an off-Broadway production of The Christmas Story. Admittedly it was fun as hell but you won’t hear the guys say that. New York City during the Christmas season is a must go-to destination and the energy is contagious. Jacob, Nat and I found ourselves just as happy as the women were to watch carolers on the street, look through Macy’s window and go to The Lounge to drink buttered rum. Our fathers would be calling us pussies.

  “I’ve got to bring Nicky here for at least a day when we get back from Hilton Head.” Red says while she and I are snug together on a love seat in The Lounge.

  “We could bring him.” I say. Let me share your life with you, Danielle.

  “I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.” I nod; I understand.

  “I get it. But how about we introduce Nicky to Jacob’s son, they’re the same age. That can be his traveling buddy.” She smiles and nods.

  “Yeah, I’ll do that.” And then we join in on a conversation the others are having and enjoy the moment.

  Jacob, Nat and I appreciate the evening up until two hours before the concert. Any inkling of happiness ended the moment Jon walked through the door with his crew, looking like they were ready to destroy us. Please, give me a break.

  “Shall we make introductions?” I say as they stand in front of our table inside The Bar inside of the Four Seasons. I smile and beckon for them to have a seat as I raise a glass of scotch to them. I’m being an asshole. Nat and Jacob sit at the table and chuckle. They’re being dickheads. Two dicks and one ass. Never a good combo.

  “Fuck you.” The shortest one says.

  “You must be Matthew.” I say to him. “From Roxbury, graduated from Columbia, master’s from Harvard, married to Rena, son named Georgie, works at Brooks Financial where you make a shit load of money. You and I should do business one day.” He says nothing. Damn, he’s done his research. Yeah, muthafucka, I have. Jon looks at me, his face expressionless. Either he’s a zombie or he’s trying to disarm me, either way, I’ll pull his card.

  “Where’s Nicky?” I say to him.

  “What the fuck did you ask me?” Ah, there it is. He charges for me so Nat, Jacob and I stand but Marlon stops him. ”Don’t ever mention my son again.”

  “What’s your motive?” I ask him as all six of us stand face to face with each other, garnering the attention of the self-respecting drunks sitting around.

  “What, for my wife? For my family?”

  “You gave your family up.” He narrows his eyes in on me.

  “And you think you can have them?”

  “I already have, Red.”

  “Danielle.”

  I smile.

  “Let’s decide on Danny.” Isn’t that what he calls her?

  “I will fucking murder you.”

  “Is that what you’re trying to do to Danielle? Or are you just trying
to drive her crazy?”

  “I’ve remoted into Danielle’s phone for her protection.”

  “Protection. And may I ask from whom? Because to me, you’re the only crazy muthafucka here.” He walks closer to my crew, Marlon and Matt close by his sides. He comes within a breath of me. I’ve got to give it to Danielle; she certainly didn’t marry a pussy. The man’s got heart. But I’ve got Red.

  “They’ve been making white boys like you for centuries in this country.” He runs his eyes over me, I give him my signature smirk. “A liberal republican who has political aspirations but understands that he needs a bridge to the other side in order to become famous, especially in Massachusetts where republicans have no power. Enters Danny.” Jon takes himself too seriously. He’s taking me too seriously. Danielle and I were high school crushes and we ended up together. It’s as simple as that, nothing deeper. Nothing more. Politics, feminism and race have nothing to do with this. But I let him continue. “You flatter her, you dine her, you fuck her. She’s yours. You mark your territory, show up at feminists’ events: We republicans have not forgotten you. When in truth, you don’t give a damn about Danny other than the fact that she’s smart, beautiful and a good fuck.” My smirk fades.

  “A good fuck?” I smile. Whop! An opened handed knock to his face, a demeaning hit for a man. The open handed knock is a hit notoriously reserved for children and women in tales of old as opposed to the closed fist that’s reserved for men. The open hand is one of the greatest insults introduced to the art of male fighting. It means that he’s my bitch; he’s too soft for the real deal. And so it begins.

  A table-turning, window breaking, security infused brawl fueled by scotch, pride, sons, and Red, lands the six of us outside on the streets of New York City, surrounded by sparkling candy colored Christmas lights, Bing Crosby’s White Christmas blaring through street speakers and snow heavy with blood. Each crew reminds the other that they’re bitches, that they suck dick on a regular basis, that they’d take the other’s lives, that they’re the ones with the real power, that the other should bow down, that Red belongs with their crew. In all fairness, there were no winners in this near massacre. Security and police made sure of it. As luck would have it, one of the police officers called to the scene knows Matt from his days of living in NY, seems they’re old buddies. Another officer hears the name Blair and asked for Jacob and my ID. He’s a Boston native so he let my crew slide. Since Jon, Matt and Marlon aren’t staying at the Four Seasons, they’re asked to leave the premises. Jacob, Nat and I are asked to keep it down and then sent on our way. You see, when you have money and connections, a knock out fight is the equivalent to a playground tussle. Play nice boys.

  So now, Jacob and Nat head to their rooms and I head to Red. Of course, we’re shit talking the entire way up to the penthouse level and of course we’re saying we won. The concert starts in two hours and I told Red that Nat, Jacob and I were just going to grab a quick drink from The Bar. So when I walk in and she’s singing along to Radiohead’s’ Climbing Up The Wall, and laughing on the phone with someone, I try to ease past her and into the bathroom while her back is to me.

  “Oh my god!” It doesn’t work. “Shit!” She runs to me and pulls my face into her hands. “Oh my god…Jasmine, I’ve got to call you back…yes, just let me call you back.” She ends the call. Her eyes are wide and her hands are shaking. “What happened Malcolm?”

  “You don’t have to worry about being bothered again.” I say to her.

  She waits for me to continue but even though I want to tell her it’s Jon, something in me won’t let me and it has nothing to do with Red, it has everything to do with Jon’s dream. I used to be him. I used to dream of my life with Danielle and how it would be to have friends, bars, vacations, children. I remember how easy it is to get lost in the thought of Red and the happiness that you’d find with a woman who was beautiful, confident and intriguing. I went twelve years believing that Danielle and I would cross paths again, somehow. Even though she lived in Boston and I in Jersey and then she in Louisiana while I lived in New York and then she in Houston while I lived in London, I always had hope. I thought I was insane but I wasn’t. Maybe I was in love. Perhaps obsessed. It’s hard to remember the true motivations behind my hope back then but I’m sure it’s the same motivation that’s driving Jon. I am fully aware that he’s not trying to hurt Danielle; he’s trying to drive her away from me. But what was I doing when I sent her cherry blossom petals every year? When I mailed her birthday cards each December? When I made a point to attending the most important functions of her life just so that I could one day say, I was there Red.

  “Laura?” She points to my face. “She’s hired some fucking cronies to do her dirty work?” I nod yes, this is my second lie to her. She puts her hand on her head and walks away. “She’s insane.”

  “It’s done.” I say.

  “No, it’s not Malcolm. If she could do this,” She points to my face, “she’s turned violent. I’m not safe.”

  “You’re safe Red.” I walk to her.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “I promise you that you’re safe.” I want to touch her but I’m covered in blood and lord knows whose blood. She gages my eyes to see if she can believe me. She’s looking…and looking…reading me…staring into them… And then she decides, yes. She nods and begins to unbutton my shirt.

  “You look a mess.” She whispers as she slides my shirt off my shoulders. “We won’t go to the concert.”

  “Come on, I can’t look that bad.” I smile at her. Damn, my jaw hurts. She gives me a look that says you look more horrible than I’m willing to admit.

  “Stop smiling.” She says as she pulls my undershirt from out of my pants. “Why smile if you’re not happy?”

  “I am happy Red.” I wink at her. “Trust me.”

  I shower and damn, my face burns. I gotta give it to Jon and his crew, they know how to throw hands. Of course I’ve been in plenty of altercations before. You don’t become a member of one of the best basketball teams in the nation and don’t make enemies. There have been plenty of times that the Princeton Basketball team has brawled with our opponents in the parking lot after a game. I close my eyes and lean against the shower. Finally this shit is over. I’m pretty sure that Jon won’t be harassing Danielle anymore, there’s no more mystery to his antics, the thrill is gone.

  “Umm, Malcolm.” I hear Red say.

  “Yeah baby.” I open the shower curtain. She’s dressed in a lace bra set. “Damn, let’s skip the concert.”

  “My bag is gone.” What?

  “The travel bag you brought here?”

  “Yeah, it’s gone. Yours is here but mine is gone.” We stare at each other for a moment. Was that Jon’s last insult? I cut the shower off, grab a towel and head to the phone to call the front desk. Red is trailing behind me, mumbling about how she was having such a good time and then…

  “Front desk, how can I help you?”

  “This is Malcolm Blair from Room 1614.”

  “Yes, Attorney Blair.”

  “Have you been working the desk long?”

  “For about five hours now. Is there something wrong?”

  “Who is else is with you?”

  “There are two others. Is there a problem?”

  “Did anyone ask about this room? Ask if Danielle Rouge or I were staying here?”

  “Not that I know of, one second.” She asks the others around.

  “Yes.” I hear a man say. “His wife.” I sit on the bed.

  “His wife?”

  “Your, uh, wife Attorney Blair.”

  “I’m not married.” I say. Red’s eyes are scrunched, her mouth asking what’s going on. I close my eyes and shake my head. This isn’t Jon.

  “He’s not married.” The woman says to the others. “Did you tell a woman where he was staying?”

  “She showed me her ID.” The man in the background says.

  “And what did it say?”

  “I
don’t remember her first name but I know for it fact it ended in Blair. Something with an L…Lana…Luca…but it ended in Blair.”

  “You shouldn’t have given his room number! Did you give her a key to his room?” The woman hissed. The man said yes. “Oh god…”

  “Did this woman check in?” I ask.

  “Did she check in?” The woman asks.

  “Yes.” The man answers.

  “What’s the room number?” I ask.

  “Room number.” The woman says sounding defeated. I hear typing.

  “There are three Blairs here, Room 1614, Room 1613 and Room 718.” The man says.

  “Thank you. I’ll come down and get a key for Room 718.” I say and then I hang up. Let them refuse me.

  Red looks at me but says nothing. Thank you for letting me handle this. “I’ll be right back with your bag.”

  Room 718

  Ahh…that’s my Malcolm. A smart one he is. Danielle is right, his scent is intoxicating; I can smell him as I run my fingers along the wall of the hallway. She said he smells wise, she’s right.

  Malcolm’s a lot like Cadence in that they both will do anything to please a woman. But while Cadence likes to fuck them, Malcolm likes to spoil them. He spoiled Laura for the first few years of their relationship though his attention always appeared to be elsewhere. After law school, he moved to London and brought Laura with him. They lived grandly while he honed his law skills and learned the ins and outs of starting his own enterprise in Boston.

  It’s funny to think about it now but for years while we all lived in London, Cadence and Malcolm seemed to have this running joke that Laura and I couldn’t seem to understand. The inside joke was that every time Cadence would see the color red, and I mean anywhere, Cadence would say there goes Red! And then he’d give the biggest laugh. Sometimes, when Cadence would say that unexpectedly, I would look at Malcolm and, for a moment, see a bit of…what was it…interest? No. Alarm? No. Hope. Yes! I would see hope in his eyes that would fade when Cadence would give that deep throaty laugh of his