Natural Beauty (15 page)

Leslie
DuBois lives in Charleston, South Carolina with her husband and two children.
She currently attends the Medical University where she’s earning her PhD in Biostatistics.
Leslie enjoys writing stories and novels that integrate races. Her other novels
include
Ain’t
No Sunshine
,
Nobody
Girl
,
Shadows
of St. Louis
,
The
Dancing Dream Series
,
Guardian
of Eden
and
Nothing
Else Matters
.
   

Read
an excerpt from another Contemporary Fiction Novel from Leslie DuBois

Prologue

Sex
was so much better when he paid for it. Maybe the knowledge that he could use
his money to get whatever he wanted somehow added to the excitement. No matter
who it was, everyone had a price. And the types of girls he wanted were quite
expensive, but supremely worth it.

Tonight
was going to be one of his best. Amanda had finally found him a virgin. It had
been months since his last one. He loved the challenge of virgins. He had
perfected an excellent combination of enhancement drugs and alcohol that gave
them the optimal amount of pliability.

He
wore only a towel as he sat next to her and stroked her long brown hair,
waiting for the drugs to kick in.
 
It
worked quickly.
Much quicker than the last girl.
Within seconds, she had started removing her sweater, complaining that she was
hot. This girl definitely could not hold her liquor.

“How
would you like to take a bath with me? It will help you relax,” he asked.

“Okay,”
she giggled.

He
stood and went to the bathroom to run the water. This would work out perfectly.
They would sit together naked in a warm bath becoming more and more aroused by
the touch of each other’s skin, then make love repeatedly in every room of the
suite.

He
slipped off his towel then walked to the bed to find her passed out. He lifted
her arm and tapped her cheek, but she was out cold. This wouldn’t do. He wanted
a willing participant, not this. He was too good for rape.

He
sat next to the passed out teenager on his bed, stroked her hair and whispered
in her ear hoping to awaken her, but she didn’t move.
 

It
was getting late. He needed to get home to his wife.

He
felt for her pulse. It was really weak.
Too weak.
What
if he had given her too much of the concoction? His pulse quickened. He
couldn’t deal with a dead girl. He picked up his phone and called his
bodyguard. He would know how to handle this situation discreetly.

Delia
stood in the center of her living room clutching her carry-on to her stomach
like a nervous child about to be punished. She’d tried waiting for her husband
on the lush leather couch, but it didn’t feel natural. She hated that couch
anyway. She hadn’t used it since she caught Jason making out with Maria on it a
year ago.
 
Why she didn’t leave him then
was a mystery to her.

She
looked at the gold and ivory grandfather clock that stood next to the archway
separating the living room from the formal dining room to make sure the time
matched what her watch said.
 
He should
have been home hours ago.

Delia
grabbed a tissue out of the pocket of her jeans and sneezed into it as she
wondered what his excuse would be this time. “Baby, I’m sorry I had to work
late. Didn’t you get my message?” “Baby, I had a flat tire and my cell phone
died.” “Baby, I saw an injured puppy on the side of the road and I just had to
help it.” “Baby, that’s not lipstick on my collar, it’s …
it’s
tomato soup!”

Sure,
those lines sounded stupid now, but they’d worked in the past. There was just
something about Jason James she couldn’t resist. Something about his sensual
brown eyes and luscious lips made him like air to her. He was irresistible. She
needed him, his touch,
his
reassurance to feel whole.
The problem was he also seemed irresistible to Maria, Patricia, Claudia,
Vanessa and Linda. Either that man was a nymphomaniac or he couldn’t resist
women whose names ended with ‘a.’

Delia
dropped her bag next to the rest of her luggage and began pacing the marble
floor. The longer time ticked on, the more her resolve waned. She sneezed three
times into her tissue. She always sneezed when she was nervous. And what could
make her more nervous than the idea of completely restarting her life?

Could
she really walk out on her marriage? Could she really leave Jason, the only man
she’d ever been with?
The catch of George Washington
University.
The man that all the girls wanted.
He had chosen her. Out of all the women he could have had, he’d chosen her to
marry. Maybe he really did love her. Maybe they could go to counseling. Yeah,
she could make it work.

Just
as Delia was about to drag her luggage back toward the bedroom, the phone rang.

“Did
he come home yet?” Donna Lee asked without a ‘hello.’

“Look,
I’ve been thinking. Maybe I just didn’t work hard enough at our marriage. Maybe
we could get counseling and be happy
... ”

“Dee,
don’t wimp out on me now. Jason is a dog and he will never change. We’ve been
through this before, okay? Just because he looks like Johnny Depp and has more
money than Oprah doesn’t give him the right to treat you any way he wants. How
long are you going to let him play you? He’s eating away at your
self-esteem.
 
You need to get away from him
before there is nothing left.”

Deep
down, Delia knew her sister was right, but she didn’t want to be a failure
anymore. She wanted to be a better person and wife. The type of wife that could
keep her husband satisfied.

Delia
wandered into Jason’s dressing room. It was identical to hers, found on the
other side of the bedroom, except that Jason had added a few extra features.
Besides the wall-to-wall mirrors, he had special compartments for his shoes
that slid from the walls at the press of a button, and a rotating closet. He’d
offered to make the same upgrades in her room, but she didn’t see the need. She
didn’t own half as many clothes as he did.

Staring
at her reflection in one of the many mirrors, she twisted a lock of hair around
her finger and listened to her sister ramble off the reasons why she needed to
leave Jason.
 
She was beautiful once. At
least that was what Jason told her four years ago as he stared into her green
eyes and stroked her dark curly hair on their first date.
 
She had been a senior in college and had
never even been on a date, being too busy trying to finish her math, computer
science, and physics triple major.

In
a matter of hours, she was madly in love. She thought he would dump her the
moment he found out she wouldn’t sleep with him until they were married, but
instead he married her.
 
They eloped
graduation night, making Delia possibly the happiest co-ed on campus. But her
bliss had been short-lived as she began to realize that Jason had wandering
eyes … and hands … and other body parts.

As
she looked in the mirror, she focused on her eyes and the bags that had begun
to develop underneath them. Bags that came from the countless sleepless nights
of wondering where her husband was and whom he
was
with. She didn’t cry anymore over it. She’d given up crying about two years
ago. It did no good.
 
Delia reached for
her purse and began applying some foundation, the new Queen
Latifah
brand for dark sisters. Maybe if she were prettier, she could be enough for
him.

“Are
you listening to me, Dee?”

“What?
Huh? Yeah, um, I think I’m
gonna
give it one more
shot. I mean he’s the love of my life. I can’t just give up on us.”

Donna
Lee sighed on the other end of the phone.
 

“That’s
it! I’m coming over and dragging you out of that million dollar nightmare
myself.”

“Donna
Lee
don’t
. I’m fine really. I can make it work.”

“But
that’s just it, Dee. You don’t have to make it work. You don’t have to live
like this. I know you don’t believe me, but you deserve better.”

Delia
didn’t respond.

“This
all goes back to being adopted, doesn’t it? I was adopted, too, you know.
 
You don’t see me settling for scumbags like
Jason. I wish Mom had never told you about your biological parents.”

Tears
welled in her eyes as she thought about her parents. She always knew she was
adopted, being that she was black, her sister was Korean, and her little
brother was Hispanic, but it wasn’t until she was in high school that being
adopted really affected her. That was when her mother, Jolie, told her that she
was found in a dumpster at four months old.

She
would’ve felt better about the situation if her biological parents had realized
they couldn’t take care of her and taken her to an adoption agency or
children’s home. But, instead, after caring for her for four months, they
realized she wasn’t worth anything and threw her out like trash, like she was
a nobody
.

Jason
didn’t think she was trash. He had married her. He had to love her at some
point. And that was enough for her.

After
hanging up with her sister, she put her luggage into her dressing room so Jason
would never know she’d considered leaving. She eyed a black see-through nightie
that she hadn’t worn in years and considered surprising him with it as he
opened the door. No, she thought, we need to talk first.
 

She
looked at the clock over the bed they rarely shared together.
Nine-thirty.
Even though Jason got off work at five, he
usually didn’t come home until ten. If she hurried, she could make a nice
spread on the dinner table using the leftovers from last night.

Last
night.
The night that should have been their four-year
wedding anniversary.
The night that had turned into
the final straw.
Delia spent the day preparing his favorite meal,
lighting candles and covering the house with rose petals, only to have Jason
not show up. At eleven, Delia blew out the candles and put the food away. Then
she climbed into bed sullen and empty. She couldn’t even eat the rack of lamb,
rosemary potatoes, and strawberry soufflé she’d slaved over.

Sometime
during the night, Jason crawled into bed next to her and wrapped her in his
strong arms.
 
She should have kicked him
out then and there, but instead, she pretended she was asleep and nestled
herself further into his warm, masculine body. She pretended they were still in
love even though he smelled of women’s perfume.

The
morning after the failed anniversary surprise, Donna Lee came over and helped
Delia pack her bags, trying to convince her to leave immediately. But Delia
wanted to stay and at least give him an explanation. Not that he had ever
bestowed upon her the same courtesy.

After
setting the table … again, and lighting the candles … again, she reconsidered
the nightie. Maybe that’s what they needed to rekindle their relationship. He
always wanted her to explore her sexuality more. She was always much too shy
and timid to try the games he wanted to play in the bedroom. The occasional
dirty movie and slinky lingerie was as far as she would go. Maybe that’s why he
found it necessary to go elsewhere. Yes, the nightie was what she needed. The
nightie was the key.

As
she slipped the silk nightgown off the hanger, her cell phone rang again. This
time it was Jason.

“Hey,
Baby, sorry I’m late. I had to help out a friend.” His voice sounded tired and
far away, yet still sexy as ever.

“It’s
okay. When will you be home?” Her voice sounded hopeful to the point of
desperate and she hated that but didn’t know how to change it.

“Actually,
I’m turning on to our street as we speak. I’ll be up in a minute.”

Delia
clicked off the phone then hurriedly undressed. She slipped on the nightie, dabbed
on some perfume then dashed to the living room in order to see his face when he
opened the door. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror above the couch.
She looked good, really good.
Large chest, delicate waist,
and firm behind.
She stared at her oversized breasts for a moment. They
were a wedding gift from Jason. She never thought anything was wrong with her
size before, but he had insisted that going two sizes larger would make her
feel better about herself.
 
In reality,
they just made Jason feel better about her. All she got out of them were
painful shoulder indentations from piercing bra straps.

As
she heard Jason’s key turn in the door knob, her heart began to race. What if
he laughed at her? What if her body wasn’t up to his standards anymore? But the
look on his face when he got a glimpse of her told her that wasn’t the case.

“Wow!”
he said, putting down his briefcase. “You look amazing. You haven’t worn that
in years.” He embraced her and placed a passionate kiss on her lips. A kiss
that made her whole body
ignite
. No one could kiss
quite like Jason James.

“I
was hoping you’d say that.” Delia smiled and licked her lips seductively.
“Look,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the dining room, “I
made a romantic meal for us. I’ve already eaten, but I thought you could eat
and then we could go to the bedroom for … dessert.”

Delia
sneezed. She didn’t know why she was nervous. This was her husband. She
shouldn’t be nervous in front of her own husband. But the increasingly uncomfortable
expression on Jason’s face worried her. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“Nothing,”
he said as he scratched his head. He let go of Delia’s hand then rubbed the
back of his neck. “It’s just that, I had no idea you were planning any of this
and I kind of brought company over.”

“Company?”

“Yeah,
the friend I was helping out, well, she needs a place to stay.”

“She?”

“Gina,”
he called out into the hallway. In walked a beautiful, leggy, redhead carrying
a suitcase extremely similar to the set Jason had bought for Delia on their
second wedding anniversary.

Tears
stung behind Delia’s eyes, but she didn’t have the energy to cry. It took all
of her strength and thinking capabilities to just keep breathing. She felt cold
all over as she stood nearly naked in front of a painstakingly arranged dinner
table facing what was most likely her husband’s latest conquest.

“Are
you okay, Baby? You look a little ill.”

“Do
you want me to get her some water, Jay?” Delia’s eyes expanded as she watched
Gina walk straight to the
kitchen,
open a cabinet and
retrieve a glass.
 
How did she know where
the glasses were? “Here you go,” she said cheerily as she held out a glass of
water to Delia.

She
wanted to smack it out of her porcelain white hand, but she couldn’t move. She
couldn’t even blink. She just stared. She stared at the beautiful redhead
standing in her living room. And she really was beautiful. Delia touched her
own mass of dark brown curls as she enviously noticed the perfectly coiffed
cherry colored hair of Gina. She wondered what her own hair would look like in
that color. She wondered if Jason would love her if her hair were that color.

Somehow
she ended up on the dreaded couch wrapped in a blanket listening to some
ridiculous story about how Jason and Gina were friends from work and Gina’s
roommate failed to pay the rent so she was being evicted and needed a place to
stay. Delia stared at the lavish furnishings of their apartment. The coffee
table trimmed with gold and crystal, the baby grand piano in the corner that no
one played, the plasma television that rose from the floor. Everything seemed
so hollow and empty.