Over. (This. Is. Not. Over. #2) (35 page)

Jacob 6:34 pm:
Drinks @8…Piranha.

Jacob: 6:50 pm:
You’re not answering … Laura still there?

Blair 7:01 pm:
Just calmed her down and got her to leave.

Jacob 7:01 pm:
Damn dude, she’s obsessed

Blair 7:02 pm:
Be there at 8, I need a fucking drink.

Admitting that I dropped the ball that night in Jacob’s office is an embarrassment. I let him down, I could have prevented this. I usually have eyes in the back of my head but I didn’t see Laura take that picture. She’s the one person I couldn’t save, she’s the one person who found my blind-side. Laura, as it appears, is the only person alive who can verify that I’m simply human. I have to believe that she was destined to come into my life to keep me humble. Laura is my humility.

While the picture would have been an embarrassment, the real issue for me was the diary. I read it and let me just say, Laura has a bestseller on her hands. The diary would have ruined the Family. I ended up getting the entire story from her ‘Agent’ once I returned to Boston. (I also read those creepy ass notes that she wrote to Red. Laura was almost on the verge of snapping.)

              To me, Laura’s motives were simple. She wanted someone to feel how she felt. Humiliated. Ruined. She therefore resorted to blackmail. But Laura knew that both Winnie and Jacob would have shut that blackmail shit down
immediately
. So she went for a weaker link.

             
But the weak link wasn’t as weak as she thought. Not everyone is strong in the traditional sense of the word. The weak link was strong enough to hand over a half a million in cash, without hesitation. Bold enough to take a chance on flying Laura down to Hilton Head so that she could drive our asses crazy. And (and this is my favorite reason) this supposed ‘weak link’ was determined enough to shut this shit down, before the media found out. He’d do anything for his woman. Just like me. Even when she was wrong. Just like me.

Friend

9:45 p.m.

             
There really isn’t much to say.

             
I tried my best to get Laura and Danielle together. While Jasmine and I were in Hilton Head last Christmas, I would say little things to her like:

              “This whole fire story is bad for Danielle. I know she likes Malcolm but he did own Laura’s house. I don’t want to start trouble but don’t you think it would be interesting to hear Laura’s side of the story? I’d hate for Danielle to be involved with a guy who’s no good.” Jasmine agreed and even mentioned it to Danielle one day while they were at lunch.

             
“Didn’t go well at all.” Jasmine said to me once she returned. “Danielle just refuses to listen to reason.”

              See, I wanted Danielle to go to Laura on her own. I wanted her to look for Laura, I didn’t want to be the one to bring Laura to her. I didn’t want my name involved in this at all. From the way Laura was acting I knew it was only a matter of time before she cracked. She was off, that much was obvious. I had to think of something.

             
“Let’s go.” I said to Jasmine that night at Italiano’s after dinner. “We don’t belong here, this isn’t our crowd, it’s Danielle’s. Jon’s already heading back to Marla, let’s leave and join them in New York for a few days.” Jasmine agreed, she of course, was feeling uncomfortable around Jacob. But I was sick over Laura. I was so desperate, I was thinking crazy things. I was thinking of hiring a hit man, going to the police, even going to Jon and Matt so that they could help me in some way. But I just couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else knowing about Jasmine and Jacob. I couldn’t stand the thought of Jasmine cheating on me with a Blair. I couldn’t stand the thought that all of our women seemed to prefer Blairs over us. It’s embarrassing. Jasmine would have never taken a picture like that with me. Never.

I knew that things were about to come to an end when I left Laura outside of Italiano’s and walked back inside. Jacob was staring directly at me. He knew. Malcolm was heading right for Danielle. He knew too. Winnie shot me an icy look before looking at Jacob. She knew. When Malcolm, Jacob and Winnie all went outside with Danielle, all doubt was settled. They were about to end this nightmare of mine. Thank goodness.

I have to admit, I’m like the rest of Boston, I assume that the Blairs are programmed to fix things. After all, that’s their job. That’s what they’re known for. I prayed they’d fix this for Jasmine and when they did, I didn’t want to be anywhere around. So you can call me a punk but I decided to take Jasmine and run. I figured at that point that if something happened in Hilton Head, at least Jasmine and I wouldn’t be there. I just knew that things would implode soon and I wanted Jasmine and me far away. I wasn’t thinking about the future, I was just thinking about the here and now.

And everything did implode.

Malcolm called me a week later asking to meet for drinks. Of course I obliged. We sat at a bar and he told me that Laura had written letters that he read along with her diary. He wanted to know my take on the whole thing. I told him the entire story of how Laura found my real estate office on the internet, called my work cell, showed me the picture, blackmailed me and began forcing me to arrange a meeting with Danielle. I made sure to let Malcolm know that I refused to arrange it because I was scared for Danielle’s safety. Laura was clearly unstable and I wasn’t sure what she would do if she got Danielle alone. He warned me that there were probably copies of Jasmine and Jacob’s picture, though he went through every PO Box and safe deposit box Laura owned. He even looked through the rubble to see what he could come up with, though he came up with nothing. The last thing he told me was for me to come to him if something like this happens again. I told him that I would. He thanked me for never arranging the private meeting, told me that he understood why I did what I did, and then slipped me a check for $250,000.

All is well.

The past is now behind me. Right now, I’m swinging Jasmine around on this ballroom floor because she and I are happy. We were made for each other. Jacob may be a Blair, but he wasn’t born to be the husband of Jasmine Harlow. I, Marlon Kyles, was born to be the husband of Jasmine Harlow. That means that I was born to guard Jasmine Harlow with my life. No matter if she’s right or wrong. No matter if she was fooling around on me while we were dating. That was the past, that’s over. What’s done is done. So there was no need to tell her about the picture. There was no need for me to mention it. What would have been the point? Why would I have handed over a quarter of a million dollars to keep that picture a secret and then fight with her about it? No. I’ll never mention that picture to Jasmine. One of my main priorities is to always protect her. Even if it’s from herself.

“I can’t believe I’m actually enjoying myself.” Jazzy says to me as she smiles and smooths over my tuxedo jacket.

“Admit it baby, the Blairs can throw a party.”

“Eh,” she shrugs and glances around as I spin her. “I liked our reception better. It was just you, me, friends and family. Everyone who really matters.”

“Simple.” I say as I lean down and kiss her lips.

“Yep.” She says against my mouth, with her eyes closed. “And that’s just the way I like it.”

Danielle             

9:50 p.m.

             
As I stand here, in Malcolm’s arms, swaying to this music, let me try to explain some things.
First, let me say, that I haven’t read the diary or letters. I prefer to be blissfully ignorant; we all know I get paranoid easily. Second, let’s just be honest here, this whole thing is my fault. Laura went on a rampage because I burned her home down and froze her accounts. It’s as simple as that. Malcolm refuses to acknowledge that any of this is my fault but we all know it is. The only thing that wasn’t my fault was that picture.

             
I won’t be mentioning to Jasmine that I saw that picture, I’m not sure if she could bear knowing that her and Jacob’s love story was made public. I do feel sorry for her though. Jacob isn’t perfect but, from the stories Malcolm has told me, she seemed to love him. Yet, I do think that Marlon is a better match for her, he’s simple and sweet. There’s nothing wrong with simple and sweet. I can remember, there was a time when I slept in my bedroom last year, when I was in the middle of being stalked and I dreamed of New Orleans, college days and beignets:

              “Here, Danny.” Jon said, he already had my beignet. I ate it and then looked around. I love it here. I love Louisiana. I always want to stay here. It’s simple and sweet here. I took another bite of my beignet. Simple and sweet…

              Jasmine is a lucky girl in a way; she gets to live with simple and sweet for the rest of her life. Jacob is charming but he isn’t always guided by his conscience, that much is obvious … after all, he
is
a Blair. He, like Malcolm, is a bullshitter. While I can handle such a man, I’m not sure if Jasmine had the vision of marrying a Blair Bullshitter. I don’t think she would have had the stomach to do what Winnie and I did. As a matter of fact, I know she wouldn’t have.

             
But for the past ten months, I can’t help but remember a conversation that Jasmine and I had last spring in Boston, while she and I rode in a cab back from Roxbury and away from the shitty dive with Taye Diggs, the bartender. Remember that? I was sick over the fact that my marriage was crumbling. It was the night that Lola called and asked me to come to Piranha Sushi Bar. If I would have gone, I would have been reacquainted with Malcolm that very night. Jasmine knew that I had met a new friend named Lola and she knew that Lola was a Blair by marriage. Jasmine heard Lola speaking through the phone, begging for me to come hang out with her and a few of her friends. I agreed to go and then changed my mind at the last minute:

             
“Earth to Danielle.” Jasmine giggled and leaned her head back on the seat. Jasmine, with her neck full of pearls and her polka dot A-line dress, the quintessential 1950’s housewife.

             
“Cabbie, can you drop me off in Beacon Hill before you head to Watertown.” I said before I closed my eyes, tears threatening to fall. I just wanted to go back to my condo and feel utterly sorry for myself.

             
“I thought I heard your friend ask you to come to a sushi bar?” She said as she looked at me and then bit her bottom lip.

             
“What’s that look about?”

             
Jasmine stared for a moment longer and then slid her mouth into a smile.

              I thought about that moment plenty of times after I was reconnected with Malcolm. I just assumed that in the cab that night, Jasmine was on the verge of telling me about
my
secret love story. Yet, now that I’ve seen that picture, perhaps, in the cab that night, Jasmine was on the verge of telling me about
hers
.

Danielle

Epilogue

4
Crazy Ass Years Later

              Carlo Rossi became the President of the United States, his wife Eva our First Lady and Cynthia our Mistress. There isn’t anything exceptionally wonderful about Rossi, other than his crew. As it was before, so it is now that Rossi’s connection with the Blairs, Marchs, Rouges and Yates (Winnie’s family) is the reason America’s so enthralled with him. As a journalist for The US News once wrote:

              “President Rossi has ushered America into a glamorous and decadent stage of its existence. Capitol Hill is now filled with velvety Danes, cinnamon-haired Creoles, nasally New Englanders, gold medal heroes and brooding Catholics. The men are as tall as Goliath and as handsome as David, the women are as faithful as Sarah and as alluring as Bathsheba and all the kids are bad as hell.”

             
Eva Rossi is actually becoming quite a star here in America especially with her First Lady cause. She champions elderly Americans in making sure that they stay healthy and active until the day they die. First Ladies having a cause is a time honored tradition: Nancy Reagan told druggies to
Just Say No!
Laura Bush told dumbasses to
Read!
Michelle Obama told porkers
Let’s Move!
Eva Rossi’s telling old folks to
Come on!

             
But when Rossi left his Senate seat, there was a vacancy. Guess who filled it.