URBAN: Chosen By A Kingpin (77 page)

“You look beautiful sweetheart!” Blake said as she strolled down the staircase.

It was these times that she remembered how their love began. Blake was attending one of her shows in Paris. She was told he paid off many of the bodyguards to get backstage to see her. When she first saw Blake, her only reaction was he was very white and old. Blake was 10 years older, and yet in pretty good shape from what she could tell.

“I’m such a fan,” he said holding a bouquet of roses and a box of cookies.

She laughed. “Thank you! Oh cookies!”

“Yes, I remember your interview on Oprah and you said these were your favorite cookies. So I thought I would bring you a box.”

Tara didn’t know what to make of the strange man who went out of his way to bring her cookies, but in retrospect, she was charmed.

Blake was not a looker. Nowhere the likes of George Clooney or Brad Pitt, the two white men she swore could get it. No, he was more like Patrick Swayze minus the Footloose, or a smaller version of Dolf Lundgren with a brain.

She took the cookies and the flowers. “That was very sweet, thank you!” She attempted to close her door.

“Wait,” he said, holding the door. “I wonder if I might invite you out for dinner or a stroll. It is very nice out.

“Sorry, I can’t.”

“I promise,” he said. “It will be a night you won’t forget.”

And, it was. It was the night they married. Since then Blake went out of his way to please her, expensive gifts, trips around the world. He gave her the best of everything and she loved him so much for it. Coming from where she came from this was a dream come true and she promised herself she would have it forever.

***

“Can I get you anything Mrs. Fitzgerald?” One of the waiters asked. Tara found the young man to be quite attractive in a young Denzel kind of way. His brown skin matched hers and his smile was near perfect. He had the looks and stature of a runway model.

“Yes, thank you. Glen Livett on the rocks with 2 olives.”

“Might I add, you look very beautiful tonight miss!”

“Well thank you!”

That was twice tonight someone had said she looked beautiful. She must have outdone herself. Tara turned to look in the mirror. She liked the way she looked in the one sleeved, form fitting red sequined gown Blake purchased in Milan 2 years ago. As soon as he saw it he said it would be perfect for Christmas and yet today he made no mention of it.

“You spend a lot of time looking in the mirror? Is that something ex-models do?”

The voice came out of nowhere and she was taken aback by the accusation, but she knew who it was even before turning around.

“Mrs. Fitzgerald.” Tara said with as much energy and good cheer she could muster up without the aid of a cocktail. Tara whenced at the sight of her. Despite all of her money and help, she couldn’t buy style and yet she wanted to comment on her attire. Eleanor’s skin literally poured out of her skinny black dress, creating layers and layers of skin, dripping and hanging like flaps on her barely there frame. Tara thought maybe if she spent a little more time in the mirror she would see how ridiculous she looked, but then again perhaps the mirror couldn’t handle it.

“Hello my dear. Well I must say you look amazing! That’s the dress Blake bought you. My son has the best taste in clothing. He can spot a winner in just one look. Did you know that Versace once hired him as his buyer?”

Why was she still talking? Why didn’t she just walk away like she usually does?

Mrs. Fitzgerald never gave a straight comment, her comments were always laced with poison, something lethal that ended up being a buzzkill.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Oh, I would think he would have shared that with you, his wife. I really don’t understand marriages these days. You’re here, he’s there…”

Blake walks up and interrupts. “Mother, is everything alright?”

“Yes of course dear, just chatting it up with Tiera.”

“It’s Tara, Mrs. Fitzgerald.”

The waiter arrives. “Your cocktail Mrs. Fitzgerald.”

They both turn his way. Miss Eleanor didn’t have to stretch much to show him her Grinch face.

“I will have you know. There is only one Mrs. Fitzgerald in this house. And she is not the one. You can call her Miss. Miss Tara, whatever but never Mrs. Fitzgerald. Now come on Son, I need to introduce you to some of our most important guests.!”

“Yes, mother. Tara, I’ll be right back.”

Ha! Tara was glad they were gone. Now she could operate freely. She toasted the both of them and swallowed down her drink as quickly as possible.

“Get me another, double this time!”

It looked like it was going to be one of those nights.

***

In another part of the house they were playing music. Not that boring, classical music his mother loved, but some real house music. She moved through the crowd effortlessly, stepping occasionally to the beat.

After 4 drinks Tara was feeling looser than ever and with that came the feeling to let go, be free and enjoy the night! She danced her way onto the floor and in real words, shook it like her mama! She laughed, because she couldn’t remember the rest of that…shake like your mama gave it to you! She laughed again. Marvin Gaye’s
Got to Give It Up
was playing. How much had she given up being the Billionaire’s Wife. Well, she gave up her family, her mom, her dad, brother and sister. She hadn’t seen or heard from any of them in several years. It was never her intention to do so, but they began to act like vultures on the hunt when they found out who Blake was and what he had. The constant asking for money, cars and things wore her out and she didn’t even mention it to Blake. She gave from her own funds.

Although her and her mom talked occasionally, her and her sister had no connection. It seemed her sister despised her as much as Mrs. Fitzgerald. Her sister Mya didn’t like her marrying a white man and Eleanor was on the opposite side of the fence. Mya was the resident rebel, all black everything. Tara had no problem with it, it’s just that she hated that she blamed Blake for their relationship. Blake had nothing to do with that. That was all Mya’s doing and the sooner she realized it, the sooner they could be more like real sisters or at the least friends.

With no Eleanor or Blake around to criticize or correct her, Tara did what felt natural, kicked off her shoes and danced like no one was looking, but there was someone looking. He showed up out of nowhere and danced with her. She barely noticed him at first until he brushed up against her behind and she turned around to see who was trying to cop a feel.

“Excuse me!”

He backed off. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, well you know…it’s just a bit crowded in here and I was slightly pushed in your direction. Not that I didn’t mind.” He said smiling.

There was something endearing about his smile that almost made her believe him and yet she couldn’t help but think that he was full of it. He had come up with quite the convenient lie and probably one of the best she had heard in a long time. The song ended and the majority of people were leaving the floor when the Deejay played a slow song.

“Well, you can back up now, the crowd is clearing.”

“I could, but I would much rather dance with you.”

It was like a scene out of a movie, this handsome gentleman approaching her for a dance. He was white, but he was nothing like Blake. He was on that George Clooney or Brad Pitt scale. He was drop dead gorgeous and sexy and dangerous. Although despite his good looks, she really wasn’t interested.

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Wait,” He grabbed her hand. “ Dance with me.”

He squeezed her hand and wouldn’t let go. Everything in her, told her this was wrong. Eleanor would make a big thing out of it and Blake wouldn’t understand, but there was another part that said,
go for it.
She seldom acted on her own. She had been conditioned to follow protocol, stay in the box, be the good wife, but tonight she wanted something different.

She went with her last thought and danced with the mystery man. The moment he brought her into his arms she felt quite jittery. He nearly dwarfed her in size and it felt good, almost too good. She raised her head to find his head buried deep into her shoulders as if he too was caught up in some fantasy neither of them belonged. His scent was intoxicating and soothing. There was nothing like a man who wore good cologne. The song seemed to play and play and yet she was lost in the moment, no longer fearing what Mother-in-law thought or even her dear sweet husband would say. Tara enjoyed the moment, moment by moment. It just felt good to feel something again, something other than regret, disappointment and anger.

***

Tara raised her head from the pillow after hearing the commotion in the room.

“What is going on Blake?”

“Oh, oh, sorry I woke you sweetheart. I was looking for my Polo shoes. I bought a new pair, several pair last month and I can’t find them.”

“They’re in the 2nd closet Blake. You know where we put the new things.”

“Right, I totally forgot, thank you love!” He said, headed out the door.

“Wait! Blake?”

“Oh, I’m meeting an old friend for some skeet shooting. I invited him back for dinner, so if you can get Kati to fix us a meal that would be great. Oh, and grab a few bottles of the good stuff from the cellar. He likes the good stuff.”

“Do I know him?”

“No dear, I don’t think you do. He’s an old friend of the family and a Harvard graduate like me. Okay lovely,” He kissed her on the cheek, “got to run dear.”

Damn! Tara thought, a
nother day of his family and friends.
She laid her head back on the pillow, before removing it from her head and putting it over her face. She would lay there another moment or two reminiscing about the night. For the most part it was a typical gathering at the Fitzgerald mansion, except for one tiny part, her impromptu dance with a stranger. That was the one thing that made the difference and she couldn’t help but smile at her little bit of indecent behavior. Sparks flew the moment they touched, and her desire grew for the man with no name; the man who had ignited something in her that had long since died. What is wrong to fantasize about a man who was not her husband? She knew the answer was yes and yet she wasn’t ready to let the fantasy go. Tara pulled the covers over her head and returned to that place where all her desires ran free, the waterfall, his hands, her hands, his mouth, his scent, his strong arms wrapped around her gave her permission to be free.

***

Michael was up at the break of dawn. The overseas traveling had taken a toll on him and sleep just wasn’t one of the things he could do. He yawned something into his recorder. Something he would have to recover and analyze once his brain head enough rest, but he thought there was no rest for the weary. He strolled over to his window overlooking the Potomac. The skyline was still lit up and the bright lights danced across the river in sync with it on normal flow. The view, the quiet reminded him of how much he had overcome in the past years, losing his wife and son and now this new business of his had become his most recent challenge. Dot would have been so surprised and probably mad as hell at his choices, but he knew if she were here she would understand. She would have to.

He turned away from the view, and picked his clothes from the floor. Last night was good. Better than he expected. Not the party guy at all, but it was good to see old friends and family on Christmas. Michael couldn’t remember the last time he had spent Christmas with anyone but himself. It had become the most depressing time of the year and the one he normally avoided. Dot would have been proud of him. Not only did he socialize with everyone, he also danced. He danced with probably the most beautiful woman there. He was not normally dazzled by the glitzy, glamorous type…he was more of a down home girl type of man. But this woman was the full package, not exactly model small, she had hips and thighs and breasts that resembled small melons pushing the fabric of her dress like they were trying to make an escape. There was nothing he didn’t like about her…nothing.

Godiva.

She was like the finest of chocolates, rare, expensive and addictive. The three things he needed to stay far away from.

He laughed to himself. He was totally off his mark.

The night was over, and today was a different day. He resigned to the fact that he would never see her again. And to him that was okay. He had no room in his life for new romances; no room in his heart for another, Dot and William, his son had that wrapped up a long time ago.

His phone beeped. A text message came through.

Mike we are still meeting today at the club. See you around 9am.

He texted back.

Yes sir. Game on.

Today would be fun, he thought. He hadn’t hung out with his old friend Blake in years. It would be nice to get reacquainted again. Blake and he were the best of friends at Harvard, almost inseparable until Blake was lured back into the family business, and commoners were cast aside. At the time Michael would have been considered a commoner. He was not born of wealth, had no resounding name, never been a socialite, but what he did have they couldn’t take away. He was smart. He was aggressive and he was focused. So no, it was not the case of one over the other. Blake understood that, and that is what he respected about the man they were able to see each other for who they were and not what they had accomplished.

“You mean to tell me, you’ve been married for nearly 4 years and you never mentioned it at any time we talked?” Michael asked.

Blake flinched a bit before answering. “Yeah, I guess so. There wasn’t a big wedding or anything. We just sort of did it!.”

Michael laughed. “You did it! Come on man, your mom is not going to go for you doing it!”

Blake nodded in agreement. “Right again buddy, she did not go for it! I have had hell to pay since Tara became my wife. Hell! But, I can’t always care about what mom wants.”

“Oh my… the prodigal son has arisen!”

“Grab your paddle dude! I will show you how the Prodigal son has risen while I rise up and whip your ass!”