His Betrayal Her Lies (7 page)

Libby turned up her mix tape jam and started
singing along. Taylor looked out the window, still wondering who
and why someone attacked her car.

Libby’s bad singing stopped at once when
Taylor reached over and turned down the music.

“Hey, hey, what are you doing? That’s my
jam.” The song exploded through the SUV again after Libby thumbed a
volume button on her steering wheel.

Taylor punched the off button on the
radio.

Libby took her eyes off the road, starred her
down as she hissed, “What the hell is wrong with you, Taylor? Why
the fuck did you punch my damn button like that? This is a Rover.
This shit is expensive if you break it.”

Taylor looked over at Libby, tears rolling
down her face.

“Oh my God, girl, why are you crying?” Libby
asked pulling up and parking in front of Taylor’s home.

A look of disgust was the answer Libby got,
followed by harsh words. “You know what? You are a very insensitive
bitch.” Taylor kind of regretted saying that but she was so mad she
just kept talking. “My car window just got busted out and you don’t
even ask me what happened. On top of that, it took you an hour to
get to me when you only live fifteen minutes away from Mr. Chow’s
cleaners. I’ve had a long day and all I needed was my friend to be
concerned about me.”

“Look here,
friend
. Did you just call
me bitch?” Libby scooted around in her seat to look Taylor squarely
in the eye. “In the fifteen years we have been friends, we never
called each other names.” She rolled her window down and spit out
her gum before continuing. “Okay, Tay, I can see you are really
upset about something and I’m not the person you really want to
lash out at. So I’m going to act like I didn’t hear you call me a
bitch. Get out of my car, go into the house, and calm down. Your
head needs to be clear for tonight’s event.”

Taylor jumped out of the SUV without saying
goodbye and started storming toward her house. She did an
about-face when Libby let the passenger window down and yelled,
“Come get this stupid dress before I drive off with it.”

Fuming, Taylor ran back, reached in the back
seat, and snatched her gown.

It took three tries before she punched in the
right code to get inside the gates. She stormed up her driveway and
entered the house.

* * *

Smelling good, looking good, and feeling
somewhat calmer in the back of the limo, Taylor pulled her compact
mirror out of her Chanel clutch to check her lipstick and eye
shadow. She rotated the compact to get a better view of her hair.
One of the bobby pins that held her locks in a tight bun was
sticking out. With her pinky, she nudged it back into place. Her
red nails raked through her Chinese bangs. She looked around,
taking in the beauty of the Stan Mansion coming into view.

The limo driver, a young man who looked like
he was next in line to be on Newsweek’s sexiest man alive cover,
left the engine running while he came around to open her door. His
eyes flashed his approval at her appearance.

She gave him a somewhat flirty leer and
joined three other women who were walking toward the mansion.
Taylor admired the grand façade and the illuminating candles that
lined the stairs leading to the foyer. The mansion used to be a
Masonic Temple in the early 1900s.

As the group approached a set of double
doors, a skinny older man asked for their invitations. “Ma’am,” he
informed Taylor, “you are at table ten.” With one bony hand he
reached for the next person’s invitation, while raising the other
to signal a nearby usher to escort Taylor to her seat.

Wall-to-wall reporters, CEOs, and editors
made her feel a little intimidated. These people were highly
recognized in the city. Taylor was seated in the last vacant chair
at her table for twelve. She looked around and didn’t know anybody.
The woman next to her extended her hand. “Hi. I’m Felicia Paris of
Paris Magazine, and you are?”

Taylor took her hand and gave a firm
handshake. “I’m Taylor Gallagher of Dynasty Magazine.”

The chubby, freckle-faced white woman shook
her blonde, curly hair out of her face, raised her eyebrow, and
twitched her lip to the side. “Oh honey, I’m sorry but I never
heard of your company. Are you new to the magazine industry?”

“Um, yes, we have only been up and running
for a year now.”

“Well, always glad to meet my competition. I
wish you great success.”

Taylor smiled at the older woman and turned
her attention to the speaker who had just approached the podium.
Even from eight feet away, he had captured her attention. The way
he moved when he spoke, his mannerisms, his dark, deep-set eyes,
and the way his six-foot frame looked in that gray pinstriped,
double-breasted suit bewitched her. She let her eyes roam around
the other tables. He had mesmerized the entire audience. All Taylor
could do was zoom in on his full, chocolate lips and muscular
build. This man was beyond handsome; he was gorgeous. His wavy,
low-cut hair emphasized his dark brown eyes.

There was applause after his speech ended.
Taylor had no idea what he had talked about. The announcer came
back on stage. “Everyone, Mr. Kalon Knight.” As the speaker took a
bow and left the stage, the announcer was still singing his
praises. “We would like to thank him for the generous donation on
behalf of his company, Angel Kids, to ensure that we continue to
have this great function. Mr. Knight’s organization helps kids
across the world buy reading materials. So please enroll on his
company website. For every magazine that you sell through his
website, ten cents will go toward a child receiving reading
materials in his or her home to enhance reading skills.”

Taylor was impressed with Kalon Knight’s
mission. She made a mental note to check out his website later. A
small crowd had gathered across the room, women throwing themselves
at Kalon, no doubt under the guise of being interested in his work.
He might as well have been the pied piper, the way they followed
along after him as he glided across the room in long strides,
stopping every few steps to shake hands or engage in
conversation.

Taylor took a few sips of her wine and tried
to look interested in the small talk going on around her. Inwardly,
she was trying to understand the intense enchantment she felt
toward this man.
For Pete’s sake, I’m a married woman.

“Look, I pulled up his website,” a
barrel-chested man two seats away called out. “Here,” he said
handing his smart phone to the brunette next to him, “pass this
around the table.” The table came alive with activity. Some
searched for their own smart phones to pull up the website. An
older lady peered over the shoulder of the brunette, her elbow
swiping a couple of cocktail napkins to the floor as she
repositioned herself to see the small screen. Taylor bent down to
pick them up, and raised her head just in time to lock eyes with
the hunk, who was preparing to take a seat at the next table.

“I really enjoyed your speech,” one of the
groupies surrounding him gushed. “Can you tell me more about your
company goal?”

No response. Kalon was focused on Taylor.

The woman repeated her question.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry,” Kalon responded
absently. “Here’s my business card. Please call my office if you
have any questions.” The tall, slim, dark-haired lady was smiling
from ear to ear as she leaned toward him cleavage first and plucked
the card from his hand.

Instead of sitting down, Kalon pushed his
chair back in and cleared the few feet between his table and table
ten. He was amused when the older lady beside Taylor divulged that
she had just seen his website. “You need to change your picture on
it,” she said, “because you look way better in person.”

He promised her that he would take that into
consideration, then turned to greet everyone else at the table,
saving Taylor for last.

“Hello, I’m Mr. Knight, Kalon Knight. And you
are?”

Taylor detected nervousness in his voice.
Taylor’s internal antenna went up. He didn’t come off as a man who
was shaky about talking to women. “I’m Taylor. Nice to meet
you.”

Kalon extended his hand and when Taylor put
her hand in his he turned her palm over and kissed it. “The
pleasure is all mine. Would you like to dance?”

Up until this point, she hadn’t even realized
that there was a dance floor and people were dancing. She knew this
man could make her lose her sensibility so she opted out. “No,
thank you. I think I’ll sit this one out.”

Kalon rubbed his chin then took a different
approach. “Well, Ms. Taylor with no last name, can I get you
something to drink?”

Again Taylor wanted him to just go away. She
couldn’t breathe with him being so close. “No, thank you. Excuse
me, Mr. Knight.” Taylor stood and walked off toward the lady’s
room.

Once inside the bathroom, she let out a long
breath.
Get a grip, Taylor.
No man besides Ari ever had this
type of control over her body.
All I have to do is go back out
there, connect with these reporters, avoid Mr. Knight, and get out
of here.

Her hands felt sweaty, probably a side effect
from her encounter with Mr. Gorgeous. She washed her hands and
applied more fire red lipstick to her luscious lips. When she
walked back to her table, Mr. Knight was gone.

* * *

Kalon had never been turned down. Here he
was, the most eligible bachelor in Chicago, and he’d had to gather
up his confidence before he approached table ten. When he finally
approached the beauty that had him spellbound since he first laid
eyes on her from the podium, she seemed to stare straight through
his womanizing soul. His mouth had become dry and he couldn’t
deliver his usual smooth rap. This had never happened to him. He
bedded a different woman every night. He would have to take a
different approach.

Just the sound of her name aroused him. This
woman was like no other. When she walked past his table, he had
been immediately drawn to her scent. She smelled like she bathed in
peaches. How such a full, petite frame could walk with such
confidence fascinated him. That extra bounce in her backside didn’t
hurt either. Her features made him think she had to be from
Barbados or the Hawaiian islands.

“Well, Kalon,” he asked himself, “What are
you going to do about this Ms. Taylor with no last name?”

Chapter 7

The rest of the night, Taylor talked to the
media and reporters about Dynasty Magazine. She told them about
which area of the community she was trying to attract. There were
countless interviews; in the end she felt pleased with her
performance that evening. It was time to leave. She had done what
she came to do.

She was kind of happy she didn’t run into
Kalon again. Once she noticed him standing by the bar talking to a
young woman. He looked her way, and she quickly turned her head. It
dawned on Taylor that he probably thought she was available because
she forgot to put on her wedding ring. After the broken windshield
and the drama with Libby, she was a little discombobulated when she
went home to get ready.

She walked outside and stood with a long line
of others who were waiting for their limos to pull up to the
entrance. “Pardon me.”

Taylor turned to see a distinguished older
gentleman standing behind her.

“Mr. Knight asked me to give this to
you.”

Taylor took the card out the man’s hand; it
was a business card. “Oh, well you can give this back to him.”

The man backed up with both of his hands in
the air. “Oh no, no ma’am. I was supposed to deliver this to you
and I have to do my job. Good night.” He walked briskly through the
crowd.

On the ride home, Taylor toyed with the
business card in her hand. Kalon’s office number, cell number, and
email address were on the front of the black and tan card. This man
was bad business. She knew nothing good could come out of talking
to him. She was a married woman, even if she was living with a man
who cheated on her and had a daughter with another woman. The part
that bothered her the most was that he betrayed her trust.
Two
wrongs don’t make it right.
Taylor rolled down the window in
the limo and threw the card out.

* * *

Beep, beep, beep. Taylor rolled over and hit
the off button on her alarm clock. The LED display flashed 5:00
a.m. Time for her Saturday morning jog. Not one to hit the snooze
button, she got up, slipped on her jogging outfit, and went into
the bathroom. Splashing water on her face, brushing her teeth, and
putting a sweatband around her forehead was all the primping called
for this morning.

In the kitchen, she poured a quick glass of
orange juice. It always had a peculiar taste when she drank it
right after brushing her teeth but she kind of liked that. Putting
the dirty glass in the dishwasher, she grabbed her watch and keys,
which she’d left on the counter. Out on the porch, she set her
watch to time her jog, then took off down the street.

Barely two blocks into the jog, her mind
conjured up Kalon’s face.
Wasn’t it enough that he had haunted
her in her dreams last night?
She sped up, as though she could
outrun the image in her head. After a short distance, thoughts of
Kalon did leave her mind—only to be replaced by reminders of the
fight she had with Libby the other day. She owed her best friend an
apology. She shouldn’t have taken out her frustration on Libby.

The truth was, she was mad at everything else
in her life. She was mad that Ari was always gone. When he first
told her in college he was going to major in engineering because he
wanted to be a pilot, she thought it was great. That was a good
career. She hadn’t taken into account that with him being a pilot
meant he wouldn’t be around as much. She felt lonely and alone in
her marriage.