The Black Door (24 page)

“Yeah, it’s me, you asshole!” she shouted. “I knew you were fucking somebody, but I didn’t think it was your father’s fiancée. How could you, Trey?” she asked, with tears forming in the corner of her eyes.

He took two steps away from Ariel. “Wait a minute, Michele. It’s not what you think!”

Ariel didn’t say a word; in a way she was glad that they had been caught. Now she wouldn’t have to tell Preston, because she knew that his eager-beaver assistant would run screaming over to his town house and fill him in blow-by-blow on what she had just witnessed.

Michele turned away in disgust and took off down the hallway.

“Wait!” Trey screamed after her.

“Let her go,” Ariel said, grabbing hold of his arm.

“No.” He broke away. “I can’t let her leave, not like this,” he said, as he chased after Michele.

Ariel stood in the doorway and watched the two of them talking. Trey wrapped his arm around Michele to console her as she put her head on his chest. Ariel couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she had a hunch that he was coaxing Michele to keep her mouth shut.

“Well, if she won’t spill the beans, then I will,” Ariel said underneath her breath and slammed the door.

She was sick and tried of playing second string. First Preston had put her off, and now Trey was doing the same thing. She couldn’t believe that both father and son were putting her on the back burner. Well, she’d be damned if she let that happen to her twice. Ariel needed to get her power back, and she would start by telling Preston that it was over, and then deal with Trey.

TREY HADN’T
been busted since college. He didn’t like it then as a teen, and he sure as hell didn’t like it now that he was a grown man. He should have never broken his cardinal rule by fucking a client, but that was in the past; now he’d have to deal with the present. Luckily for Trey, he was used to putting out fires on a daily basis and was able to extinguish Michele’s fiery temper. He calmed her down long enough to convince her to come over to his apartment. Trey knew that he would have to do some fast talking to persuade her from going to his father with her discovery. And he was willing to do or say whatever it took to get his way. Trey had always been as smooth as Teflon, and prided himself on getting out of sticky situations. He wasn’t an angel by any means, just careful; that was, until now. Now he had a major mess on his hands, but it wasn’t anything that he couldn’t clean up.

“Sit down, baby.” He led Michele to the sofa. “Can I get you something to drink? Green tea, brandy, or maybe some port?” he offered.

She averted her eyes from him and shook her head no. In her haste to flee Ariel’s building, she had forgotten to return the cap and jacket to the delivery guy, and sat wedged in the corner of Trey’s couch looking disheveled in the oversized uniform.

He sat down next to her. “Come on, baby, take that off,” he said, removing the cap from her head. He gently ran his hand through her hair and fluffed it out. “Now that’s better.”

Michele jerked her head away. “Trey, don’t.”

This is going to he harder than I thought
His plan was to sweet-talk Michele right into bed, fuck her brains out, and make her forget about blabbing to his father. If anyone was going to tell his business, it was going to be him. He realized that he would have to work a little harder, because he wasn’t about to scrap his plan of seduction. “Michele, please let me explain,” he said, almost pleading.

She didn’t say a word, just looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, and defensively folded her arms in front of her chest. She had heard her fair share of sob stories over the years, and wanted to hear Trey try and talk his way out of this.

“Remember the night of the engagement party?”

Michele shook her head yes, and waited for him to continue.

“Well, that’s when Ariel came on to me.” He paused for a response, but she didn’t say a word. “Anyway, I went over to ask her why she was crying, and she told me that things between her and Dad were not going well.” Trey looked at Michele for a reaction, but her face was blank, so he continued with his lie. “I
innocently
put my arm around her shoulders to comfort her, and that’s when she reached up and kissed me lightly on the lips. She said it was just a thank-you kiss and, to be honest, I really didn’t think much about it.”

“That’s when you should have told your dad,” she said, finally opening up, “because he has the right to know that he’s engaged to a two-timing skank.”

Trey hung his head to hide the slight smirk spreading across his face.
Good, I got her now.
“You’re right. I should have told him, right then and there.”

“Why the
hell
didn’t you?” she shouted, and slapped him on the back, now back in full Michele mode.

Trey jerked his head up. He hadn’t expected her to raise her voice, let alone hit him. “I, uh—” He stalled, trying to come up with the right answer.

She cut him off. “And furthermore, what the
hell
were you doing at
her
apartment, sucking on
her tits?”

“She called me and said that she wanted to talk about my dad, and when I got there she was dressed to seduce me in that see-through number.” Trey forced a lone tear to drip from his left eye, and dropped his head into her lap. “I. . . I. . . was just weak.” He sobbed, making more noise than actual tears.

Michele had never seen a grown man cry, and his vulnerability tugged at her heartstrings. She rubbed his back, on the exact spot where she had slapped it a few minutes before. “Don’t cry, baby. I’m sure
she’s
been after you from the start. I mean who wouldn’t? You’re such a good catch.”

With his head buried deep in her lap, Trey smiled a smile of victory.
Jackpot!
Now he knew that he had Michele exactly where he wanted her—back under his control. He sniffled for effect, slowly sat up, and wiped the lonely tear from his eye. “I’d been working too hard and missing you, and my hormones got in the way of my thinking and I lost control.” He sniffled again. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“I’ll forgive you on two conditions,” she said, sounding like she was calling all the shots.

“Anything, just name it,” he said, playing right along, knowing good and well that he had no intention of letting her direct his program. He still planned on ending their relationship, but now he’d have to prolong the inevitable until the timing was right, and it wouldn’t be right until after the nomination was secure.

“One, you promise to never see that
bitch
again, and two, we tell your father what she did to you,” she demanded.

Damn, not that again,
Trey thought. He had assumed that Michele would be a pushover and that he could sway her with his fake waterworks, but he was sadly mistaken. Now he would have to pull out the
big
gun, and fire at her with both barrels. “We will, baby, but I need to take some time to wrap my mind around what happened. I think we should go away to de-stress. This ordeal has been traumatic for both of us, and I know this great little resort in the Cayman Islands where we can sort everything out in peace and quiet.”

She perked up like a peacock. “Oh, Trey, I would love that!” Michele had never been whisked away before; it was always her sister who went on exotic trips. Now it was her time in the sun and she was ecstatic—even though the trip was under these circumstances.

“Okay, I’ll book the reservations this evening and we can leave tomorrow for a long weekend.” His plan had worked brilliantly, although he hadn’t expected on spending a small fortune on last-minute reservations; but considering what was at stake, the money would be well spent.

“So soon? I’ve got a million and one things to do before we leave, I’ve got to—”

He kissed her lips to stop her chatter. “Baby, the only thing you need is your passport. Everything else we can buy once we land.”

“But—”

“No buts.” He kissed her again. “We’ll stop by your apartment in the morning on the way to the airport and get your passport.”

“Trey, I need to at least go home and change clothes,” she protested.

He put his hand on her breast and began massaging it. “You can change in the morning. Please, don’t leave me tonight. I need you.” Trey wasn’t about to let her out of his sight for fear that she would hightail it over to the town house and fill his father in on the sordid details.

Michele’s mind was reeling, and she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to skip out on Preston without notice, but things were going smoothly with his nomination and he could hold down the fort until she came back. As she was weighing the pros and cons of going on a dream vacation with her dream man, Trey was nibbling on her nipples, making it easier and easier for her to say yes.

She knew that he was manipulating her, but she didn’t care; she wasn’t about to push him away in case he went back to that
bitch,
so she did what came naturally. Michele began unbuttoning her blouse so that he could have easier access to her nipples.

Trey unsnapped her bra and eagerly sucked away, hoping that he could make her forget about tonight and focus on going away with him tomorrow.

“I love you so much, Trey,” she moaned.

“I love you too,” he lied, to seal the deal.

Michele eased out of the oversized jacket and took off her blouse and bra. “Wait a minute.” She stood up, unhooked her skirt, and removed her pantyhose. Now totally nude, she lay back down, and draped one leg over the back of the sofa so that she was spread eagle.

Trey knew exactly what that meant. She wanted him to feed the pussycat. He scooted down between her legs, spread her lips apart, and gingerly kissed her clit. He then stiffened his tongue and darted it in and out of her hungry pussy, while at the same time fingering her ass. He was sucking and finger fucking her at such a fast and furious pace that she screamed.

“Oh, yeah, baby, I’m cuming!”

Trey didn’t stop until her body was twitching from multiple organisms. His tongue was magical and worked like a charm and now she was once again under his control. Trey would spend a few days fucking her in the sun and by the time they got back to the U.S., he would tell his dad about him and Ariel. . . his version of the events, of course.

IT WAS
after eight thirty in the morning and Michele was nowhere in sight. She was usually at the town house before eight with two steaming cups of coffee from Starbucks—a low-fat latte for her and a double espresso with one sugar for Preston.

“Where is she?” His body was craving his daily dose of caffeine. Besides, he wanted to get the day started. He needed Michele to call the senator’s assistant and ask her if his calendar was clear for a meeting the following week. Preston hadn’t spoken to Robert in a few days, and he was on pins and needles wondering about the status of the investigation. He preferred a face-to-face with the senator and not another telephone confrontation like before.

Preston sat behind his desk and spread open the pages of
The New York Times.
His morning ritual was to read the
Times
while he drank a cup of coffee. Well this morning, he would have to deviate slightly from his habit while he waited for Michele. He had finished reading the first half of the newspaper and was on to the business section when the telephone rang. He snatched up the receiver, slightly annoyed at having to answer his own phone. “Hello?”

“Good morning, Judge,” Michele said sheepishly, using his professional title instead of addressing him by his first name like she normally did.

“Where are you? I was expecting you here over an hour ago. I need you to call the senator’s office, and . . .” Preston began barking out orders.

“I’m so sorry, but I won’t be in today,” she said hesitantly.

“Oh.” He calmed down. “Are you sick?” he asked, concerned.

“No, I’m not sick. Trey and I are on our way to the Cayman Islands for a long weekend,” she said, sounding totally elated.

“What? You’re on your way where? Did you say the Cayman Islands?” he asked, nearly running one question into the other.

“Yes! Can you believe it?” She squealed with delight.

Preston knew that Michele and Trey were having problems, and that she suspected him of cheating. She probably caught him in the act, and as a peace offering he invited her to go away for a romantic weekend. Preston knew that sly move all too well, because he had paid dearly for a few guilt trips himself. He knew that if his son had booked a spur-of-the-moment trip, the situation must be dire. He decided not to give Michele any grief about missing work. “You sound excited.”

“Yes, I am,” she gushed. “I know this is totally unexpected, and I’m sorry to leave you in the lurch, but all of your affairs are in order. And I’ll be back in the office bright and early Tuesday morning,” she said, always the efficient assistant.

“Don’t worry, Michele. It’s already Friday, and since you’ll be back on Tuesday, I’m sure I can manage by myself for two days. You just concentrate on having a good time. Let me talk to Trey,” he said, wanting to clear a few things up with his son.

“Hold on. Here he is.”

“Uh, hey . . .” Trey said nervously, wondering why his dad wanted to speak with him. Maybe Ariel had told him everything.

“I know you can’t really talk, so just listen. Did Michele catch you with your hand in the cookie jar?” he asked knowingly.

“Yep,” Trey said, but didn’t mention that it was his dad’s private stash that he had been dipping into.

“So this is literally a guilt trip?”

Trey was guilty on so many different fronts. He was guilty of seducing his father’s fiancée; guilty of cheating on Michele; but most of all guilty of jeopardizing his dad’s Supreme Court nomination. “You have no idea,” he said sorrowfully.

Hearing the despair in Trey’s voice, Preston said, “Son, I’ve been where you are. Don’t worry, things
will
work out fine.”

If you knew what I knew, you wouldn’t be comforting me, you’d be trying to strangle the life out me,
Trey thought. “I hope that you’re right, Dad.”

“I know I am. Trust me. Time and distance will make any situation better, so go ahead and have a good time. I’ll see you when you guys get back.”

“Okay.” Trey paused a second as if contemplating his next words. “I love you, Dad.”

Preston was taken aback. Trey hadn’t told him that he loved him since he was a boy. “I love you too, son.”

Trey hoped that the love that they shared as father and son would supersede all the turmoil that he had caused. “Okay, talk to you soon,” he said, and hung up.

Preston leaned back in his chair with a broad smile decorating his face. Like most parents, he was proud of his son no matter what he did. After all, Trey was the fruit of his loins and could do no wrong in his eyes.

As Preston was basking in the glow of fatherhood, he heard the hum of the fax machine, and he looked over and saw it spew out two pieces of paper forward. He got up, walked over, and retrieved the fax. Preston read the cover page.

Thought that you should see this in black and white, Robert

Preston reached for the second page, which was also written in the same script, and carefully read the brief note.

The Black Door

an adults-only club

exclusively for women.

Preston Hendricks III

aka

Trey Curtis

“What the hell is this?” Preston shouted into the empty room. He reread the fax. “An adults-only club?” He scratched his head. “Trey’s got some explaining to do.” He stormed back to his desk and dialed his son’s cell phone, but it went straight to voice mail.
“Damnit!”

Trey and Michele were already in flight. He didn’t know where they were staying, which meant that he wouldn’t be able to talk to Trey until Tuesday, but he couldn’t wait that long. He needed some answers now, so he called Robert.

“Senator’s Oglesby’s office, Natalie speaking. How may I help you?” asked his chipper assistant.

“Natalie, it’s Judge Hendricks. I need to talk to the senator right away,” he huffed.

“Actually, he’s expecting your call. Hold on please,” she said, and put him through.

“I see you got my fax,” Robert simply said.

“What is this?” He waved the paper at the phone as if the senator could see it fanning in the air.

“My investigators found out that your son is the sole owner of an adult entertainment club called The Black Door, where mask-wearing members enjoy carnal pleasures of various kinds,” he explained.

Preston’s jaw dropped wide open, and he was stunned into silence. Never in his wildest dreams did he think that his son would be involved in the sleazy adult trade. Trey never even mentioned going to a strip club, let alone owning one. His resolve about his son doing no wrong quickly dissolved, along with the fatherly pride that he had felt only moments before.

“From your response, I take it that you didn’t know anything about the club.”

“Not a thing. I swear!” Preston said defensively. “I met with Trey the other day and he assured me that he was in the equity and real estate business.”

The senator chucked. “Well, I’ve made some calls of my own, and it turns out that Trey is a very clever boy. He owns the building uptown out of which the club operates, so he didn’t actually lie about being into real estate; he just failed to tell you the whole truth.”

“I’ll just have the damn club shut down!” Preston shouted adamantly, slamming his fist on the desk.

“That’ll be nearly impossible. My sources tell me that his membership register is full of some of the most powerful and influential women in the country. There are even a few foreign dignitaries who are active members. Actually, the club is registered as a legal adult entertainment establishment so trying to shut it down would cause you more trouble than it’s worth.”

“So what are we going to do now?” Preston asked, hoping that there was a solution to this unsuspected problem.

“Well . . .” The senator exhaled into the receiver. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Preston, but with your son operating a risque business, it’ll be too embarrassing if—”

Preston cut him off. “That doesn’t have anything to do with me,” he said frantically, trying desperately to hold onto his dream before it slipped through his fingers.

“Well, actually it does. If we went ahead with the proceedings and I threw your name into the ring as a viable candidate, the official investigation would begin. They would uncover Trey’s ownership of The Black Door before you could say, “I didn’t know.’ The scandal would be headline news and spread across every newspaper and tabloid in the western hemisphere. You would be crucified in the press and would lose the nomination before it even began. You understand, don’t you?”

There was dead air on the opposite end of the phone. Preston couldn’t believe that his lifelong dream had been dashed, and through no fault of his own.

When the senator didn’t get a response, he continued. “I’m so sorry, Preston, but we gave it the good ole college try. Take care and I’ll talk with you soon,” he said, and hung up.

Preston let the phone drop from his ear, and it hit the desk with a thud. He sat motionless, trying to digest what had just happened. A neutron bomb had just exploded in his lap, and the debris from the carnage was falling all around him. He didn’t know how to put the pieces back together. After an hour of marinating in the devastation, he realized that he needed to see his woman. She could console him with a night of lovemaking, which he needed desperately to get his mind off of his troubles. Preston wearily rose from his chair and tossed the incriminating fax (which was still clenched in his fist) into the air, and as it floated to the floor, he calmly walked out, leaving his hopes and dreams behind.

ARIEL HAD TAKEN
the day off. She wasn’t in the mood for work, or much of anything else. She was still reeling from last night when Trey had walked out on her to console Michele. She tried calling him, but only got his voice mail. She was also furious at herself for practically begging him to stay. Her hormones had gotten the best of her and she realized now that she had made a complete fool of herself. To ease the pain, she had started the day with mimosas, and by lunch had tossed the orange juice aside and was drinking straight champagne.

She was on her second bottle of Veuve when the telephone rang. Ariel wasn’t in the mood to talk so she let the call go to voice mail, but it rang again, and again, until she picked up. “Hello?” she said, annoyed that someone was interrupting her pity party.

“Ms. Vaughn, Judge Hendricks is downstairs,” Pete informed her.

He knows,
was Ariel’s first thought, and her heart began to palpitate. She took a deep breath to slow her pulse.

The doorbell buzzed and she staggered to open it. The champagne was flowing freely through her bloodstream, making it hard for her to keep her balance. She flung the door wide open.

“If. . . if. . . you’re here to talk about Trey, then come right on in,” she stammered. Ariel hadn’t showered and her hair was all over her head. She looked like a madwoman as she waved him in with her arm.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” Preston said, wondering how she knew about Trey’s involvement with The Black Door. “What’s wrong with your hair?” he asked, giving her a questioning stare. In all the years that he had known Ariel, he had never seen her look so wild and out of sorts.

“I don’t care about my hair,” she spat out, and slammed the door. She spun quickly around, almost falling flat on her face. “You didn’t come here to talk about my hair. You came here to talk about Trey, and all of it is true, every single detail,” she slurred.

Preston looked baffled. “What do you know about The Black Door?”

“That’s where I made love to your son! Didn’t Michele tell you everything?” Ariel put her hand on her hip. “Well, I guess she only told you what she saw last night.” She looked up at the ceiling and then began mumbling. “Michele couldn’t have known about the club unless Trey told her—”

“What, what did you say?” Preston interrupted.

“I slept with your son, that’s what I said!” Ariel’s thinking was completely skewed. The alcohol was talking for her, mixing up her words, but at the same time saying things that she would never have the courage to confess if sober.

Preston took hold of Ariel’s shoulders and looked her dead in the eyes.
“You’re
a member of The Black Door?”

“No, I’m not a member. I went disguised as Meri, and at first I was just an innocent bystander, but then I met Trey and he rocked my world, something you haven’t done in a long time.”

First the nomination was taken away, and now his woman. Taken away by the same person—his son! The betrayal was too much to bear, and he broke out in a cold sweat. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain shoot up the left side of his body, from his fingertips to his shoulder. The twinge quickly traveled to his frontal lobe, causing a severe headache. He tried to speak, but his tongue wouldn’t cooperate, causing his words to spill out of his mouth in garbled inaudible blurbs. He staggered toward the living room, but before he could reach the sofa, he stumbled over his feet and then collapsed face first on the floor.

“Oh my God!”
Ariel screamed. “Preston! Preston!” She kneeled down beside him.
“Preston!”
She yelled at the top of her lungs while shaking his shoulders, but he didn’t respond. The alcohol surging through Ariel’s bloodstream was clouding her judgment and she couldn’t think straight. She stared at him intensely, willing him to move, but the only thing that budged was his head as it slumped slightly to one side.
“No, no, no!”
she wailed, and flung herself onto his lifeless body.