Moore Than Forever (10 page)

“Dad,” Zac pleaded.

“Now, Zac,” and Schooner turned on his heel and headed down the hall.

When he reached the room the woman had entered, he ducked his head in and beckoned for her to come out into the hallway.

As she emerged from the room, Schooner hit her with his All-American boy smile. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it.”

“Yes, it has,” she was caught off-guard and not quite sure how to react to his friendliness.

“It was my birthday party. That moment we shared,” Schooner was summoning his acting skills.

He had her with her back to the wall and he was standing close, his arm outstretched, his hand flat on the wall over her head. He was smiling down at her, his eyes locked on hers, oozing sexuality. She was melting before his eyes. Schooner was taking all his natural attributes and harnessing them. Not saying a word, but just gazing down at her, smiling, as she was trapped between his body and the wall, he waited for her breathing to escalate, so that he knew he had her in just the condition he wanted her.

Anyone observing them would have seen a man and a woman having a quiet, very intimate conversation.

Leaning down, he whispered in her ear, “So, I know you like to fuck, huh?”

With glazed eyes, she smiled back.

Going along with it, he leveled a glance at her, knowing it would make her squirm. And it did.

“Is that your husband in there?” he gestured toward the room.

“Yes,” her voice was breathy.

Leaning down to her ear so that his cheek grazed hers, he whispered, “So, how do you think he and the rest of Newport Beach are going to react when they find out that you’re a registered sex offender?” Schooner leaned back, All-American boy smile plastered on his face, his pale blue eyes ice, as he watched her first shocked, then panicked, reaction.

“What are you talking about?” she choked.

“You’ve been fucking my son. He’s under eighteen. Statutory rape is a felony. That makes you a sex offender.”

She turned white under her spray tan, her eyes wide, her breathing shallow and barely perceptible.

“As a registered sex offender,” he went on, “well, those databases are all over the internet and I will make sure that all of Newport Beach, heck, all of Orange County, knows about you and your friends,” he let that sink in for a moment. “Yes, I know about all of you.”

Her large blue eyes darted left and right, “He was willing. All too happy…”

Schooner cut her off, his voice soft, deadly calm, “He’s a minor and you are an adult. Are you so depraved and bored that you have to prey on your friend’s children to have someone fuck you? That’s pathetic and sick,” the disgust in his voice was evident, although from a physical posture it still appeared that they were having a pleasant, and possibly intimate, conversation. “You will lose everything, you know that. And you will be a social pariah in this town.”

Closing her eyes, she exhaled all the air from her lungs, “What do you want me to do?”

With an arm now on either side of her head, hands flush against the wall, Schooner leaned into her, “Obviously, stay away from my son. And instead of spreading your legs, spread the word to your friends. If anyone of you even so much as says hello to him again, I will have you arrested on sexual assault charges,” staring deeply into her eyes, “I will ruin you.” And with his panty-wetting smile, one that did not even come close to reaching his eyes, he pushed away from the wall, turned and walked away.

Coming down the hall toward him was Mia, a perplexed look on her face. She had just seen him in what looked like a very intimate moment with a woman. His face was unreadable as he approached her.

“Is everything ok?” her voice was tentative.

“No,” he shook his head and put his arm on her shoulder to indicate that she should turn around and walk with him.

“What’s going on Schooner?” Mia’s eyes searched his face for a clue.
Give me something here
, she silently screamed inside her head.

He saw a “Family Restroom” and tried the handle. It opened and he ushered Mia inside.

“Not the best place to talk, but it’s private.”

“Please tell me what’s going on. Who was that woman you were talking to, Schooner?”

Walking to the sink, he turned on the cold water faucet and began to splash water on his face. Looking in the mirror, he took a few deep breaths before turning to Mia.

“She is a friend of CJ’s.”

“Ok.”

“And she and two of her other friends have been having sex with my son.”

Mia’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth at the shocking disclosure, “Oh my God.”

“What you just witnessed was me threatening to press charges if she, or the others, ever go near Zac again.”

“Oh my God,” Mia repeated. “Was this all going on under CJ’s nose?”

“Apparently,” he paused. “It seems this was all happening that semester he spent at home.”

“That is disgusting. He’s a child. What is wrong with these women? He’s the son of one of their friends. Don’t they have children of their own? What if it was one of their children?” Mia was ranting. Walking across the small bathroom to close the space between her and Schooner, she wrapped her arms around him tightly, “I know he’s turning eighteen soon, but you need to seek full custody now. This happened under her watch along with that overdose. We need full custody, Schooner. He can’t be left with her and Beau.” Mia looked up at him, her own eyes filled with tears brought on by anger and frustration.

We
need full custody, Schooner. We. She had said ‘we’
. In this dark moment, Schooner’s heart soared. This woman was bringing so many firsts into his life. Having a partner to share the good, endure the bad and fight the ugly was new and amazing and Schooner could feel the brimming in his heart - the same brimming he’d felt right from the start with Mia, so many years before.

“Under that tough New York girl exterior is the biggest heart ever. For you to even accept Zac into our world after everything that happened,” he just shook his head with disbelief. “You can’t even imagine the burden you relieve from me, Mia.”

Reaching up, Mia put a hand on his cheek, letting her thumb stroke gently, “We’re in this together, Pretty Boy. He’s your son. He’s Nathaniel’s brother. That means it’s my family. She hasn’t protected him, Schooner, and that makes me mad. Really, really mad.”

He nodded, kissing her hand, “Me too, Baby Girl. It took everything I had not to choke that bitch. Instead I threatened to expose and ruin her if she so much as says hello to him.” He ran a hand through his hair, eyebrows drawn together as he thought through his course of action, “I need to call Aaron. I want full custody until his eighteenth birthday and I want this divorce done yesterday. If she balks at all, the judge will be advised of everything.”

“I’m so sorry, Schooner. I really am.”

“We’re going to fix this,” his statement was absolute.

Pulling Mia close for a hug, as he kissed the top of her head, he realized that they shared a fundamental similarity in ensuring that they would do whatever was in their power to protect the ones that they loved, even if it meant putting their own prejudices aside for the greater good.

Schooner didn’t think that he could love Mia anymore than he already did; but in that moment, his love for this woman, his partner, his lover, the mother of his son, his one true love, reached a depth that he never even dreamed existed. And the thought crossed his mind that maybe they were one soul in two separate bodies.

Chapter Eighteen

The drive to Linda Isle was shrouded in a heavy silence. As they pulled through the gates, Schooner looked over at his son. “I’m not happy about your part in this, Zac. Did your mother and I not raise you with any understanding of right or wrong?”

Zac didn’t answer, the muscles in his jaw twitching.

Turning into the white and gray paver driveway of his former residence, Schooner could feel his stomach knot and the bile begin to rise again from his gut, but overwhelming the physical sensations, was anger. Just being at the house set off a whole host of negative visceral reactions.

In the passenger seat, the tension continued to radiate off of Zac like solar waves rippling through the highly charged air. “He’s here,” was all he said.

Beau’s silver BMW sat in the driveway.

“I want you to go straight upstairs to your bedroom, pack your things and just bring them out to the car. No conversations with anyone. Is that understood?”

Zac nodded.

“Is. That. Understood?” Schooner was seething.

“Yes, sir,” Zac’s response was slightly more than a whisper.

Pulling out his keys at the front door, Zac looked at his father and knew they were entering a battlefield. Silently, he prayed he wouldn’t have to face his mother.

Walking into the main foyer, Schooner noticed how sterile it all seemed compared to the loft in SoHo with Nathaniel’s colorful toys and accessories strewn about. All was still, the air oppressive, and both Moores jumped slightly when they heard Beau’s voice call out from Schooner’s home office located just off the Great Room.

“You’re back earlier than I expected.”

Schooner nodded for Zac to go upstairs. Making it to the top of the staircase, Zac paused as Beau entered the Great Room and halted, clearly stunned at the site of Schooner Moore standing there.

Silently, Schooner stood there. Damned if he’d be the first to speak and relinquish power to Beau.

“Schooner,” Beau stammered, noticeably shocked, “what are you doing here?”

Outwardly, Schooner appeared very calm. Cocking his head, he drew his brows together, giving Beau a look that said, “What a strange question?” and nonchalantly, with an even, controlled tone, answered, “It’s my house. I own it. I pay all the bills. What are you doing here?”

The level of awkward continued to escalate as Schooner strode into the room and stepped behind the bar. Pulling out a single rocks glass and placing it on the slate-topped bar, Schooner began to pull out bottles, one-by-one. First, a bottle of 21-year old Courvoisier, which he held up and examined before placing it on the bar. Bottles of Glenmorangie and Glenfiddich followed, with Schooner performing the same inspection prior to placing each bottle onto the bar with an unnerving thud. All three bottles had the same thing in common, only an inch of liquid remained covering the glass at the bottom.

Schooner looked up, “You still haven’t answered me. What are you doing in my house?”

Beau had not moved from his spot. “CJ and I are together now.”

Glaring, Schooner nodded slightly and reached down to pull out a bottle of Hennessy Paradis cognac. The deep amber liquid barely covered the bottom of its distinctive bell shaped bottle.

“Bad enough I’m supporting you now too, and frankly I don’t give a shit that you have access to my almost-ex wife, but whatever gave you the impression,” he lifted the bell shaped bottle, “that you’d be permitted to touch an $800 bottle of my cognac? You will be replacing this, right?”

“Look Schooner, I know you are upset about me and CJ.”

Schooner cut him off, “No Beau, I am definitely not upset about you and CJ. That was clearly a long time coming.”

“What do you mean?” Beau looked like he’d just gotten caught with his pants down.

“Mia called me early in our sophomore year. You spoke to her. But you never told me she called. Now why would you not tell me that she called?” Schooner put the rocks glass back under the bar and pulled out a brandy snifter and poured himself the remainder of the Paradis and then let the bottle crash into the garbage with deliberate disregard.

Beau’s eyes were darting around, “She said she didn’t want to leave a message.”

There it was, the admission that he knew it was Mia who had called, who had reached out to him. A phone call he had not forgotten after all these years. “And you didn’t think it was important to tell me that she called? You knew the hell I was going through.”

When Beau didn’t respond, Schooner just shook his head, “You were her lap dog even back then.”

“She was my friend. I was trying to protect her from getting hurt anymore by you and Mia.”

“I was your friend, Beau, and it wasn’t up to you to make those decisions for me.” Schooner threw back the rest of the cognac. “So, did you seek out Mia on Facebook purposely knowing it might open the opportunity for you and CJ?”

“It wasn’t planned, Schooner, but I certainly was going to fully support CJ in any way I could after you left her.”

“She lied and deceived me. You lied and deceived me.”

“You should be thanking me. First mention of that guttersnipe and you were on a plane to New York.”

“What did you just call Mia?” Schooner was around from the back of the bar and inches from Beau in a quick fluid motion. “You did not just call Mia a guttersnipe.”

Grabbing Beau by the collar of his polo shirt, Schooner backed him up against a wall. “Plotting with CJ so that she would notice you, lying to me to please her, here,” he swept his arm around, gesturing at their grand surroundings, “to take on my discards as you live rent free in
my
house. You are pathetic.”