Idlewild Page 5

  As she lay on her bed, she realized that it wouldn’t be long before the news traveled home to Chicago, where her family would head once the summer ended and everyone closed up their Idlewild hideaways and went back to their high-priced stone mansions on the edge of Lake Michigan. The thought of what people in Chicago would say about her caused Desiree to shudder and gag. Loose girl, slut, unworthy were only some of the monikers Desiree imagined people would call her after her pregnancy was revealed.

  She had ignored a bunch of calls from friends and family members who had heard about everything through the Idlewild grapevine. Desiree had ignored every single call. Especially since not one call had come from Tyson himself. After Mrs. Blackwell had all but called Desiree a future-ruining slut, Tyson had locked eyes with Desiree and mouthed that he was sorry, but Desiree didn’t believe him. She had seen the look on his face when his mother had called her a slut. His eyes had gotten glassy, and his mouth had turned downward. But still, he hadn’t spoken up. In that moment he had reminded Desiree of a scared little boy, not the man he’d always promised her he would be.

  And Desiree had noticed the pain and conflict in his eyes. She’d gotten a funny feeling that maybe this wasn’t the first time Tyson had done something like this. Desiree was devastated by the thought that she was nothing more than another one of his conquests. She had known all along that she was playing with fire by messing with a gorgeous and popular guy like Tyson, but the attraction she had felt for him was so magnetic that she’d lost sight of the consequences. Now, safely ensconced in her bedroom, she tried to erase all thoughts of Tyson, but it was useless. It was all too much to deal with. She wanted to bury her head and never come back out, but then something suddenly got her attention.

  A knock on her bedroom door drew Desiree up off her bed. She padded over to the door, barely wanting to pick up her feet. Her usually vibrant face was drained of color. Her always perfectly coiffed hair had turned into a tangled bird’s nest atop her head, her eyes were red from crying, and she could surely use a shower. Wrapped in a soft pink chenille robe, she swallowed hard and exhaled as she put her face close to the door.

  “Who is it?” Desiree called out from behind the locked door. She was silently praying it wasn’t her mother again.

  Carolyn had been driving Desiree crazy with her efforts to cheer her up and get her out of bed. Carolyn had even offered her a day at the spa, car shopping, and shoe shopping, which Carolyn knew were some of Desiree’s favorite pastimes. Desiree had refused all her mother’s offers. She couldn’t imagine going out in public right now. The thought made her cringe and feel nauseous. There was no way Desiree could deal with her mother right now.

  “It’s me, Rebecca,” a soft, melodic voice whispered in return. Desiree could tell from the muffled sound of her voice that Rebecca had her face up against the door.

  Desiree’s shoulders slumped with relief. She was glad it wasn’t her mother, for a change. She unlocked the door and twisted the doorknob. She opened the door a crack and looked out in the hallway suspiciously. Then Desiree grabbed Rebecca’s arm and pulled her through the doorway and closed the door again. Desiree locked the door behind them. Though she was nervous as hell, she was glad to see Rebecca.

  “Thanks for not bringing my mother with you, Rebecca,” Desiree said, on the brink of tears for the fifth time that day.

  Rebecca’s eyes were wide with fear, like she’d committed a crime. She swiped sweat from her forehead and let out a long, pained sigh. Rebecca had prayed all the way to Desiree’s room. Desiree could tell something was off. One thing Rebecca was not was a good liar.

  “I need to tell you something, Desi,” Rebecca said. “First, let me just say, they love you . . . no matter what they’re feeling right now.” She wiped at invisible sweat again. “I’m sure they just want what is best for you, Desi. I’m sure,” she added, fanning at her face.

  “Just say whatever else you have to say,” Desiree snapped, feeling as if she might throw up.

  “They . . . they want you to go to your mother’s private doctor and take care of it,” Rebecca said, shame making her cheeks flame.

  “No,” Desiree rasped, feeling as if the word had lit her mouth on fire as she uttered it.

  “Listen, Desi—” Rebecca began, putting her hands up in front of her, but Desiree cut her off.

  “No!” she barked. “It’s my body and my baby! I won’t do it!” Desiree brushed past Rebecca, stormed out of her room, and stalked toward her parents’ suite. Rebecca was hot on her heels, but she couldn’t catch up, because Desiree was moving so fast.

  Carolyn jumped and turned on the balls of her feet when Desiree barged into her bedroom suite. Ernest looked over his wife’s shoulder at his daughter.

  “I’m not getting an abortion,” Desiree blurted, and she immediately felt like a weight had been lifted from her chest. She would never be able to live with herself if she didn’t at least get that off her chest. Desiree believed the life of her baby was sacred. She believed that the baby deserved to live, and whatever she had to endure, alone or not, she would endure.

  Carolyn shook her head and looked at Rebecca for help. Rebecca shrugged; she had never believed in abortions herself. She had suffered the loss of her only child before she started working for the Johnsons. Rebecca had also seen the psychological pain Carolyn had suffered when she miscarried at least four times between the births of her three children.

  Ernest stepped forward. “You think you can have a baby out of wedlock with a boy who doesn’t want anything to do with you?” he asked in the serious, businesslike, unloving way he sometimes spoke to his children.

  Desiree swallowed hard and swayed on her feet when she registered the disgust in her father’s tone.

  “No one wants to see you in pain and hurt. And the child . . . What type of life would the child have with no father?” Carolyn said, continuing where her husband had left off, not caring to choose her words wisely.

  “You can’t stay here with a baby out of wedlock, and that’s final,” Ernest said sternly and dismissively all at the same time. “We have the family name to consider, and we’ve worked hard to maintain it. This is not what we do.”

  “So, you’d throw me on the street?” Desiree asked indignantly, scared to death of her father’s response.

  “Why can’t we all sleep on this and talk about it tomorrow?” Rebecca interjected, as if this was her last chance to keep the peace.

  “There will be no more discussion about this after today. Either she does what we have asked or she leaves. Period,” her father said without blinking or flinching.

  Carolyn gasped and looked between her husband and her daughter, pain evident on everyone’s faces.

  Desiree felt her chest swelling and heat rising to her face. Her cheeks flamed red as she bit her bottom lip, drawing her own blood, before she spoke.

  “You have made your choice! That’s how it is?” she muttered. She put her hands on her face, in mock surprise. “Oh, no, not the precious Johnson name. There is no way I can have this baby and bring shame to my family, right?” she mocked through her tears. Then her tone turned serious, and she narrowed her eyes into slits. “I guess what people think is more important than me and what I want. I get it!”

  Her father didn’t budge, his arms folded across his chest and his face stoic. Her mother sobbed but didn’t take up for her.

  “My mother won’t even stand up for me,” Desiree growled through clenched teeth as she gave Carolyn an evil look. Then she turned toward Rebecca. “I guess you’re the only person who truly cares about me!” Desiree screamed.

  Rebecca shook her head from side to side helplessly.

  “Well, then, you’re the only one I’ll ever care about from this day forward too,” Desiree said with finality. She just wanted the day to be over. She wanted to get away from around her father’s judgmental words and disproving eyes. “I guess this is good-bye,” she said to her mother.

  Carolyn grunted and began mouthing a silent prayer. That was it! Desiree couldn’t hold back anymore when it came to her mother’s hypocrisy. There was but so much she could take.

  “Oh my God, Mother! Praying now! You, of all people. You can’t be serious! First, you were trying to convince me to kill my baby, and now you’re praying for me! I don’t need all your Jesus talk! I thought you would understand and be supportive!” Desiree barked, on the verge of tears again.

  Her emotions had been all over the place lately. No one could imagine how she felt being pregnant by a boy who had been a family friend for years, on top of the entire world knowing about it. Desiree was annoyed that her mother was giving her such a guilt trip after promising her that she’d be supportive. Desiree didn’t believe in abortion. And although she knew that she had her entire future ahead of her, and having a child under these circumstances was just not how she had pictured her life ending up, she had to protect her baby. Deep down inside, Desiree knew that her parents would probably accept the child eventually, but Desiree wanted her first child to be the joy of her parents’ life . . . not a shameful embarrassment. Desiree’s mind raced with all these things.

  Rebecca fell silent after Desiree’s outburst. She knew all too well how tenacious Desiree could be when she was upset. She followed Desiree back to her bedroom.

  “Desi, this will blow over. I promise,” Rebecca said, trying to comfort Desiree.

  But she was wrong. The next morning, Rebecca was the one to break the news that Ernest and Carolyn had arranged for her to take Desiree away. They didn’t even come to see her off.

  An eerie silence enveloped the interior of the luxury car as it whizzed down the highway, probably going well over the speed limit. Even the sparkling afternoon sun couldn’t change the dreary, almost funeral-like mood that hung over the car. Rebecca cleared her throat, breaking the heavy awkwardness that surrounded her and Desiree. Desiree put her hand up to silence Rebecca before she could start. It was all she could do to keep herself from screaming, crying, yelling and, worse, jumping out of the moving car in protest. Desiree shot Rebecca a glance out of the side of her eye and gripped the door handle tighter, so tight her knuckles paled.

  Please don’t let her start up again. I really don’t feel up to this. Why is she staring at the side of my face like she wants to say something? Please just keep your mouth shut, Rebecca. I’m not in the mood, Desiree thought. She was having a hard enough time coping with the situation.

  Desiree had thought Rebecca, of all people, wouldn’t judge her and would just give her the support she needed at a time like this. Desiree could feel the heat of Rebecca’s gaze on her even more intensely. She just wanted the driver to pull the car over and let her push Rebecca right out the door on the side of the damn road. Desiree kept her eyes forward and flexed her jaw in anticipation. Rebecca looked at the side of Desiree’s face one more time before she finally mustered up the courage to speak. Desiree braced herself.

  “Desiree, your father is a man of very few words, you know that, right? I mean, maybe you can forgive him one day. Find it in your heart to understand him as a parent. I don’t know . . . something . . . ,” Rebecca said. “I . . . I just want everything to be normal again. I just wish this had never happened.” Rebecca squeezed a tissue in her hand. There. She’d finally said what she had been thinking for the past week.

  Desiree remained silent.

  Rebecca let out an exasperated breath. “You hear me talking?” she asked softly, being careful not to nag. She could feel the heat of Desiree’s gaze fall on the side of her face. Rebecca knew she was stepping on sensitive ground with Desiree.

  “I’ll never speak to him again. He threw me away like trash, and I’ll never speak to him again. I don’t care if he’s on his deathbed. Don’t call me,” Desiree said with feeling.

  The thought of her father’s deathbed snapped Desiree out of her thoughts. She jumped at someone’s touch. The memories of the past quickly faded as she looked over at her mother now.

  “Hey, baby girl,” Carolyn whispered, rubbing her hand up and down Desiree’s back.

  “Mother, why didn’t you call me home sooner?” Desiree croaked, her red-rimmed eyes barely able to focus on her mother’s face.

  “For a while he didn’t want anyone to know. He was dealing with a lot,” Carolyn said, lowering her eyes to the floor.

  “But I would’ve come sooner. I feel like it’s . . . it’s . . .” Desiree’s words trailed off, and she sucked in her sobs.

  Her mother pulled her into a tight embrace. “Shh. He’s going to make it through this. He’s the strongest man we know,” Carolyn said, doing what she did best—pretend.

  Chapter 5

  Is This Love?

  Junior let out a series of animalistic grunts as his newest sexual conquest, Bella, roughly bounced up and down on his dick. Bella had skills, that was for sure.

  “Shit!” Junior belted out as he felt himself reaching a climax. Junior had never had such earth-shattering sexual experiences before he started seeing Bella. Just as he let out another series of passion noises, Bella leaned up a little and balanced her weight on her shapely legs. With one hand, she swiped her sweat-drenched locks of long auburn hair from her face.

  “Is it good? Is it the best?” Bella panted, her thick Colombian accent making her seem to Junior like she’d just walked out of heaven.

  “Oh! Oh! Oh!” Junior screamed as his body quaked all over.

  Bella smiled, and then it was her turn.

  “I guess it was good,” Bella said, satisfied, as she looked down into Junior’s smiling face.

  “Damn, baby. You have no idea,” Junior panted as his body began to relax. Bella eased off Junior and flopped next to him on the bed. They were both winded and satisfied.

  “I’ve needed that all week. I couldn’t wait to sneak away from all the crap I have going on,” Junior said, still reeling from the explosive orgasm.

  Bella laughed. “Glad I could help,” she told him, her accent making her words sound heavy but sexy as hell.

  She turned on her side and stared at Junior’s profile. Then she reached up and moved a cluster of sweat-drenched strands of hair from her forehead. Junior placed his hand over Bella’s, halting her movement. He inhaled deeply and brought Bella’s hand to his lips. He closed his eyes and kissed the top of her hand as he clutched it close to his face.

  “You’re so sweet,” Bella commented.

  Her beauty, her melodic voice, and the accent made Junior’s heart flutter. He was falling in love . . . a dangerous idea for someone like him. Junior had been hurt before, and he’d vowed that women would just be for his own personal pleasure and nothing more. But here he was, totally smitten with this woman.

  “No. You are so sweet, and you have no idea how much I appreciate you,” Junior told her with sincerity.

  He meant every word. His trysts with Bella had come just in time. Moments spent with Bella had been the one thing that had saved Junior from going off the deep end when he found out that his father was dying and possibly wanted to make his sister Desiree his heir. It was a betrayal that had cut so deep, Junior had contemplated putting a pillow over his father’s face before anything could be set in stone.

  Bella had changed Junior’s mind. When he’d met her, Junior had decided he would work slowly and methodically to get what he wanted. If his family believed he was distracted by a beautiful woman, they would all let their guard down, enabling him to work on things in the background. After all, Junior considered his meeting Bella as fate anyway. It was the one time he hadn’t pursued a woman and the woman hadn’t been some moneygrubbing groupie. Everything had happened so organically. To Junior, this was a clear indication that they were meant to be.

  Junior had been storming through the lobby of the Gold Coast building that housed the Johnson family’s condo when he ran smack-dab into Bella—literally.

  “Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” Junior had exclaimed when he realized the cup of hot black coffee the beautiful stranger was carrying had spilled all over her white shirt. “Please. Let me pay for your shirt. I . . . I can buy you ten new shirts,” he had rambled as he used his bare hands to wipe the coffee off the completely ruined shirt.

  Bella had grabbed his hands, stopped him, and smiled at him. Her smile had given Junior pause, and he had had no choice but to stare into her eyes. Junior had felt something inside him move. It was like nothing he’d felt before in his life.

  “It is okay. This shirt is old,” Bella said, waving her hand like it was nothing and flashing a gorgeous smile.

  “Well, at least let me buy you another cup of coffee,” Junior said. He blushed, and fine beads of sweat lined up at his perfectly straight hairline. No other woman had ever made him flush like that.

  “This was already my second cup,” Bella replied, winking. “It is okay. Really. I am fine. Maybe I needed to throw out this old shirt. With clothes this white, it was like I was asking for it,” she joked, her accent making the situation all the more amusing.

  They both burst out laughing.

  “I’m Bella,” she said, introducing herself, as she extended her hand toward Junior.

  “That’s a pretty name for a pretty lady,” Junior replied, feeling something in places he shouldn’t have. Bella was perfect. Perfect skin. Perfect teeth. Perfect eyes. Perfect hair. Most of all, perfect timing.

  “Junior, um, I mean Ernest . . . Ernest Johnson, Jr.,” Junior added sheepishly as he wiped his wet, coffee-stained hands on his pants and accepted Bella’s invitation for a handshake. Junior’s head swirled with all sorts of thoughts. He had a lot going on at the time, but for just one minute, it all stopped. Time seemed to stand still in Bella’s presence.

  “I like that name. Ernest. Sounds like a strong name,” she complimented, flashing the most gorgeous smile Junior had ever seen.

  Looking at her beautiful green eyes, shoulder-length auburn hair, and perfect facial bone structure made Junior feel flushed again. He knew Bella was much younger than he was, but she still made him feel tingly inside, like he had a middle-school boy crush. “Where are you from? I mean . . . the accent?” Junior asked, still wearing a goofy, coy smile.