This Life: A Novel (23 page)

Chapter Thirty-Six

September 2

Miami
,
FL

Kenton met Blake for
dinner at a quiet, tucked away restaurant that didn’t have a name or an awning.
There was no phone number listed. It was exclusive and private—exactly what
they needed.

“So how many women have
you brought to this little hideout?” Blake said, smiling and nursing her glass
of red wine. They sat outside in the garden area staring at the shiny, black
lagoon in front of them.

Kenton looked into her
eyes. “I figured with all the press and such that you didn’t want any more
attention. And no, I haven’t brought anyone else here. It just opened.” He
smiled back.

Blake smirked coolly. “So
glad things went well the other night. I wasn’t sure how it was gonna go down.”

“Neither was I,
honestly. Lionel did well. I’m proud of him, and you…and your mom.”

Blake laughed. “She
thought she would never see the day when Lionel and I reunited. I’m glad she
did,” Blake said, gazing back at Kenton. “And thank you, for making this work.”

“Ahh, no big deal. Plus,
if it means I get to see you more, I’ll do
anything
,” he said, arching a
brow.

“Well, you can start
with telling me why are we alone tonight? Dinner? Fancy restaurant?”

“Because I want to be
with you. Or get to know you better,” he said, self-correcting.

“I like both answers.”

“I want you to know
that this isn’t about Lionel,” Kenton said, loosening the collar of his
perfectly pressed, buttoned white shirt. He leaned his back against the chair. “This
is about me and you. If we had met under other circumstances, I would still
feel the same. You?”

Blake’s eyes scanned
his handsome features, the broadness of his shoulders, his thick, bushy
eyebrows that shaped dark, deep-set eyes. She stopped at his lips, and slightly
parted hers at the thought of kissing them.

“Blake?” he said,
breaking her concentration.

 “Our connection isn’t
all about Lionel. I know.”

“It isn’t. When I first
laid eyes on you, I just knew it. Damn, if I had met you at an after-work bar,
I would have kicked it to you there. Anywhere.”

They laughed.

 “When should I tell
Lionel everything? You think he can handle the full truth about his father?”

“I don’t know, Blake,”
Kenton said, shrugging. “I know the boy, but he’s growing up and it may hit him
pretty heavy. I say do it when it feels right. That can be anytime. I’m sure he
has questions too.”

“I wish I didn’t have
to let him down. I don’t know who his father is, there’s nothing I can really
say besides how it happened.”

 “Blake, you gotta let
the gates fall open. Everyone knows. Do you want him to find out some other way
about the rape?”

“I don’t,” Blake said,
her heart beating fast.

Kenton reached for her
hand. “You’ll make a great mom. You have so much to teach him that I can’t.
Take it one day at a time.”

Blake nodded, holding
back tears.

“And there’s another
thing. I’ve thought long and hard on this, Blake. I don’t plan to be lawyer my
whole life. I have plans to run for the Senate. Lionel knows this already, and
he’s okay with being in the limelight for a minute. And if you’re in our lives,
you would be too.”

Blake laughed and
reached for her wine. “I’m no stranger to that.” She could only imagine how her
background and dramas could hurt his chances, but she didn’t want to defeat his
dream. “I’m fine with that, since we don’t know where this is all going.
Us
,
I mean.”

“I know where I want
us
to go.” He looked at Blake intently, his eyes saying more than words could.
Their plates sat cold, but the words heated up. “I want you in my life.”

“Senator, though?”

“Don’t worry, I don’t
plan on running for president later,” he said, picking up his fork.    

“I’m fine with being
Blake’s mom, even you and I exploring what we’ve got here. I’m feeling you as
much as you’re feeling me, Kenton. But I’m not so sure about playing the good
girlfriend if you’re running for office.” Blake shook her head in refusal.

“Listen to me,” he
whispered in her ear. The diamonds in her ear tickled his lips. He moved them
to the side and kissed her lobes.

“I’m listening,” she
purred.

“I do good as a lawyer,
but as Senator, I will have relationships that can last a lifetime. It’s legacy
making.”

Blake liked the sound
of it, but she wasn’t used to being a part of anyone else’s dreams. She was a
lone soul in the world. But she too felt that need to change.

  “Kenton, I think it’s
great what you’re doing. But think carefully. I’m not exactly political
material. I have some dirty laundry.”

“Don’t we all?” he
said, low and heavy.

Their eyes locked, and
Blake felt
that
conversation was for later. Kenton intrigued her, and
she liked that.

“I can win this
election coming up in a few years. You just have to promise you’ll stand by me.”

Blake nodded; she was
always up for a challenge. Kenton leaned in and touched her soft, glossy lips with
his.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

September 21

Miami
,
Florida

Weeks passed and Blake
hadn’t thought for one minute to return to
New York
. She had Charles to take care of the
financials, and an expert legal team on call to handle her case via phone or
email. Her life in
Miami
had gotten wrapped up quickly with Kenton and dealing with
the Margot-Thomas drama.
It just never seems to end,
she thought as her
eyes glided over a distraught text from Margot.

believe this.>

It didn’t take long
before Blake found herself in the driver seat of her black Lamborghini heading
over to Margot’s. Her brain spun with what could be next. She was pretty sure
Margot knew about the pregnancy, and was hoping that Thomas did the right thing
and told her. There was no way she was going to keep being the bearer of bad
news in Margot’s life.

Blake ascended the
winding driveway of Margot’s lavish home, parking right in the front next to
the Margot’s white Mercedes. She lightly dabbed her lips with a peach-colored
lipstick in the mirror, hopped out of her car, and took a deep breath as she
walked up the steps.

“Honey!” Margot said,
before she could even ring the bell. Margot wrapped her arms around her.

Blake let her body fall
into Margot’s embrace and inhaled the sweet rose-scented perfume she wore.
Whimpers followed.

“Why are you crying?
You were just smiling from ear to ear,” Blake said, lowering her head to look
into Margot’s tiny brown eyes. She took Margot’s hand as she led her friend
into the private den.

“What is going on?”
Blake said in a demanding but kind tone.

“It’s Thomas.” Margot
grabbed a napkin that sat on a glass table between them.

Blake listened.

“He wants to come back.
He doesn’t want to divorce.”

The tears kept flowing
from Margot’s eyes as she continued. “She’s pregnant and he wants us to raise
the baby.”

Blake’s stomach
plummeted to her stilettos. “What? Huh?”

“I’m done with him! How
can he have the audacity to do this! To get a whore pregnant and expect me to
raise the baby? Is he insane?” Margot said, squeezing the tissue for dear life
between her dainty hands.

“Breathe, Margot. Think
through this. Are you sure you want to divorce Thomas?”

“Yes, yes, oh, hell
yes!” Margot raged. “What else can I do? I have to show him I mean business. He
has ruined our lives.”

Blake looked intently
at Margot, who seemed more hurt than angry. No matter how many times Margot
said yes, just by the sheer look of lost in her eyes, she could tell her best
friend was not ready to throw away twenty years. She was hurt, and hurt was
okay.

“Sounds to me like you
are holding all the cards, Margot. I wouldn’t fret. Thomas is putty in your
hands now.”

Just then, Margot’s
eyes transfixed on Blake’s relaxed face. “What do you mean?” she asked, wiping
her face dry.

Blake stood up, folded
her arms against her chest, and paced the room, thinking. She stopped near the
sun-drenched bay window. “If Thomas wants to come back,” Blake said, “he’s
probably willing to do what you want to make this all go away. Does it matter
to you why he’s coming back?”

“I bet it’s to keep his
money. He can’t afford to pay me in a divorce settlement and take care of that
wench with his baby.”

“Let’s face it, Thomas
probably could. I’m sure he’s coming back because he genuinely wants to be with
you. Sometimes a man has to hit a wall before he can look back to appreciate
what he had. You and Thomas always wanted a child. Robin wants money. She couldn’t
care less about the baby. Work something out.”

Margot looked up at
Blake. “Are you saying pay Robin off?”

“You said it, not me.”
Blake grinned.

“Oh, no, I’m divorcing
that scum bucket,” Margot said, pointing in the air. Her eyes burst into tears
again.

“Margot.” Blake held
her shoulders. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. I won’t judge you if
you stay with him. No one will.”

Margot shook her head. “I’m
just so embarrassed. He hurt me more than he could ever know.” She took another
tissue. “But I do love that man. We have over twenty years together. He has
been there for me even when I hurt him the most.” She smiled to herself. “I
haven’t exactly been the perfect little angel wife.”

Blake smiled with her
eyes about the time Margot told her about an affair she had had with her
masseuse, Lau, a thick, muscled Malaysian man who was twenty-five years her
junior. Thomas found out and fired him, but not before Thomas beat him to a
pulp. Things were never the same, but they made it work. Blake was convinced
that this was an unusual marriage of love and convenience that Thomas and
Margot unconsciously worked out between them.

“Make a deal with
Robin. Have Thomas talk to her. I guarantee you she will hand over that baby
faster than a Serena Williams serve.”

Margot sighed deeply. “I
would love my own child, but I would be happy with any child, especially one
born from Thomas. Maybe in some strange way this is a gift?” Margot asked, her
eyebrows raised.

“Maybe,” Blake said,
sitting back down across from her. “Don’t let Robin win. Thomas and you belong
together. I see this working out for everyone. Are you willing to see that
Robin has some kind of monthly allowance?”

“For what?”

“I’m just saying women
like that tend to get ideas. Maybe write her a nice check. I’m sure she knows
some secrets by now you don’t want told.”

“Well, I hope Thomas wasn’t
that stupid.”

“Anything’s possible. But
I always believe every woman should leave a situation stronger, better, no
matter what it is. Though I may not talk to Robin anyway, I did have a
friendship with her, and I don’t want to see her discarded or out on the
streets because of this. You will need Robin on your side for this to work.”

Margot nodded. “True. We’re
gonna handle it like real women. I knew what I was signing up for years ago
when I married Thomas. Scratch that, when we started dating. Wives all over in
my shoes know we have to deal with a lot to enjoy this lifestyle. I’m not
willing to give up my life for anyone. I won’t be a victim to anyone’s bad
decisions.”

“You control your own
destiny,” Blake added. “We all do,” thinking of her own woes.

“I also plan to keep
pursuing my own ideas, maybe even start my own business.”

“That’s right, Margot. Tell
Thomas. Tell him what you need. Demand it. Like you said, you both made
mistakes.” Blake rose and headed to the door. “If you need anything, let me
know, but I know you can handle this.”

Blake walked out into
the shiny Sunday afternoon with the brightest smile she had all day. She wasn’t
so sure what she was happy about. Maybe it was because she helped instead of
destroy Margot’s marriage or that love and companionship still reigned at the
end of the day. Margot and Thomas were, to her, the Black power couple trying
to make it work in the hectic, crazy life they all shared. It kept the light
burning in her own heart. It wasn’t about who was right or wrong. It was about
winning. Today, Margot was her hero.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

September 22

Miami
,
FL

Up the next morning as
she puttered around her
Miami Beach
home, Blake felt a familiar restlessness rising in her
chest. She helped Margot, hell, maybe even Robin with a nice fat check, but was
she helping herself enough? The idea she had for Margot was pretty genius, she
thought. Just having the guts to suggest it without Margot cursing her out a
second time was a risk. Blake held the warm cup of tea in her hand, and an old
name from her past came to mind.

Jake Jones. He was a
private investigator she hired many years ago to find some dirt on a competing
real estate firm that had sabotaged a few of her early purchases in
Harlem
. He was able to dig up
the clandestine second life of Mark Spencer, one of the managing directors that
Blake threatened to expose. Mark backed down, and slowly Blake began building
her portfolio to turn abandoned, burnt-out brownstones in
Harlem
into valuable family
homes. It was something Mark and his agency never did, only buying and holding,
never fixing. Blake was credited as one of the first buyers to make
Harlem
the real estate hot pot
it turned into during the early 2000s.

Blake’s cell phone was
at the far wing of the house, and she took a few steps downstairs to her
office, flanked in gorgeous, clean lines of steel blue and silver. Her sturdy,
shiny steel-colored desk was neatly arranged with a phone, MacBook, and a few
pens. She never did business here, only in emergencies.

“Jake, this is Blake
Bertrand. It has been forever, but I need a favor. Call me, if uh, this is you,”
she said, hanging up the office phone in hesitation. She wasn’t even sure if
this old number worked, and beat herself up for a few seconds for giving her
full name. What if it wasn’t Jake, and a freak stranger who would call her back?

But before she could
even let that thought settle in, her office phone rang.

“Long time,” said Jake
in his light, quippy voice. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you,” he teased.

“I’m sure you have,”
Blake laughed, relieved to hear from him. “It can’t be any better than what
these tabloids are pulling out their asses.”

“Congratulations on
everything you’ve been doing. Forget those fuckers, they deserve to die.”

Blake gulped. She
remembered Jake being quite the eccentric, and scary. She was glad to know some
of the old Jake was still there. “Speaking of fuckers…”

“I know you need
something,” he interrupted. “I’ll do anything, and if I can’t my guys will.”

Blake gulped again, but
inside she felt excited. Jake could really do anything she wanted. That was
good to know. “Well, I don’t need anything that can get your hands too dirty,
and I hope I never will. But you know I got a case, right?”

“Yup.”

“I need it to disappear.
My lawyers got my financial papers to the FBI that cleared me, but they are
sweeping it under the rug. There has been no public declaration of my
innocence, making me look like I’m still a criminal,” Blake said, breathless. She
took a pause. “They are screwing me over, probably embarrassed that they
screwed up this investigation looking at me, when all the resources should have
gone to investigating Lang—”

“Blake, they hate you. Everybody
hates everyone in this world,” Jake philosophized. “You’re young, successful,
gorgeous, and they want to stop you from getting to that next level. Don’t let
them.”

“Exactly, I can forget
this and move on like nothing happened, standing judged by others for the rest
of my life. Or you can do something for me.”

“All ears.”

“Dig some dirt up on
the DA handling my case. That
fucker
has more dirt in his life than a
Dyson. If he can’t do his job, I’ll have to make him do his job, and do it
right.”

“Send me the deets now,”
Jake commanded. “I like this one.”

“Me, too,” Blake
grinned. “Email address still the same?”

“Indeed.”

Blake pulled up her
computer and sent Jake the DA’s name and anything else about him.

Jake replied three
hours later.

#

September 28

Miami
,
Florida

Blake and Kenton sat in
his living room to catch the evening news. Lionel was in his room doing
homework, which Blake thought was just fine. She didn’t want him to see what
was coming up.

“I can’t wait to see
what that DA has to say about all this. What an asshole,” hissed Kenton as he
shook his head.

Blake melted into his
arms. She didn’t reveal that she already knew what the district attorney had to
say. She learned to always keep some things to herself. Blake smiled as she
sipped her glass of red wine. Actually, she hadn’t said a word for the last ten
minutes they had been together. He knew she was tense, and she hoped he wouldn’t
press her. If he did, she’d have to lie.

“Here it is,” Kenton
said, turning up the news.

Blake put her drink
down. Jake had assured her all was taken care of. As the DA spoke, a slim grin
ran across Blake’s lips.

“—So, I stand here now
to say that we have closed the case against Blake Bertrand. She is innocent,
the charges have been dropped. We will now proceed with the further
investigation of other persons of interest—”

Blake clapped, and so
did Kenton. “Hear, hear,” Kenton said, holding up his glass of wine and handing
Blake’s to her. “Congratulations. You are finally a free woman.”

They both clinked their
glasses to a quick toast. “Well, I figured it was about time they made this
public declaration. I can go on with my life.”

“How long will it take
for them to unfreeze your assets?”

“Oh, it’s done already.”
Blake slipped, then clenched her jaw.
Oops
, she thought.

“How? He just made the
declaration today. I’m sure there’s some paperwork?”

Blake didn’t answer,
and brought her glass to her lips.

Kenton lowered his eyes
on her, arching his right brow. “What did you do?”

“Nothing anyone else in
my shoes wouldn’t do. Let’s just say all is well. It was just this public declaration
that had to be done. I’m fine. All is fine. Okay?” Blake said, looking at him
sternly. She hadn’t had to answer to a man since being married, and she was in
no mood to start today. No way, she thought, she was going to tell Kenton about
Jake, or that he discovered that the DA led a second life picking up male
prostitutes. Jake took explicit photos, showed it to the DA, and gave him twenty-four
hours to confess or he would send them to the local newspapers, and TV stations.
It didn’t take but a second for the DA to comply and wipe Blake clean like a
whistle.

If I only knew that
was all I had to do,
Blake said to herself as she shook her head.

“So you ain’t gonna
tell me?” Kenton still eyed her curiously, inching closer to her.

She inched back. “Nope,”
she said, picking up her bag. She gave him a light kiss on the lips. “I’m gonna
say good-bye to Lionel. Then,” she said, brushing his neck with her fingers,”
when I see you tomorrow, you’ll forget these silly questions, and I’ll forget
to answer them. Okay?”

He nodded and looked at
her like a puppy in distress. “Good,” she said, planting another kiss on his
lips. This one was decidedly more intense than the first. She wanted to stay,
in his bed, but she wasn’t quite ready yet.

“Good night, Lionel, I’ll
see you next weekend,” Blake, said, creeping her son’s bedroom door open. She
walked in and hugged him tightly.

Lionel looked up, tight
coils of hair covering his head. He put his pen down, hugged her back. Each
time his hug got a little tighter. He smiled widely and nodded, “Good night,
Mommy,” he said, and turned back to his book.

Mommy.
Blake’s
heart warmed as she closed the door softly and stood there like she never
wanted to leave.