Private Property

by La Jill Hunt

  “Too bad I ended up being a dope dealer, huh? I guess it’s true what they say.” Malachi sat on top of a nearby picnic table. “The apple don’t fall—”

  “You’re not a dope dealer, Malachi! You are more than that. You are a child of the highest God. You are smart and talented, and you’re my son, so act like it. This situation you’re in now is just temporary, and you will come out of it just fine.”

  “I hear ya, Mama.”

  Olivia walked over, smoothed down her skirt, and sat beside her son, taking his hands into hers. “Malachi, you are so much like your father, it’s unreal.”

  “I am nothing like him,” Malachi snapped.

  “You are. Both of you are as stubborn as mules. Look at me. Promise me you will at least think about coming home, please.”

  She stared into her son’s eyes and smiled, hoping she could will him into saying yes. She thought about telling him about his brother’s upcoming nuptials but decided to save that news for later.

  “I will think about it, Mama,” Malachi relented.

  Olivia leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Thank you. I know you’re gonna love it. It sits on the water, and it even has a dock and a lift for two boats.”

  “I said I’d think about it. I didn’t say yes.”

  Since that visit, Olivia had been praying every night that her son would come home. She needed for her family to heal, and in her heart, she believed Micah’s wedding and Malachi’s homecoming would be just the events to bring her broken family back together. It had been too long, and now it was time for them to let go of the past. Her husband and her boys were all she had, and she was going to do everything within her power to pick up the pieces left after they’d been torn apart.

  The house phone rang, and Olivia put the picture that she was staring at down on the table. She walked over and answered, “Hello.”

  “Hey, sweetheart, I’m almost home,” Walter told her. “I know you’re up wondering what’s taking so long.”

  “I’m not wondering, Walter,” Olivia told him. “I know you were stuck after the service, running your mouth.”

  “I wasn’t running my mouth, woman. I was listening to other folks run theirs.” Walter laughed. “So go ahead and get upstairs and in bed. I’ll be home shortly to tuck you in.”

  Olivia tried not to blush, but she couldn’t help it. After all these years, her husband still had that effect on her. “Walter, where is Frank? I hope he can’t hear you talking like that.”

  Frank was her husband’s right-hand man and security who had been by his side since he started “Greater Works,” as they’d called it over twenty years ago in a storefront.

  “Frank is right here beside me driving, and I don’t care if he hears what I’m saying. You’re my wife, and if he knows like I know, he needs to be calling his own wife and telling her he’s about to come home and handle his business too,” Walter teased. “Now, go get ready for the bishop. I’ll be home soon. As a matter of fact, don’t get in the bed. We still got a couple of rooms in that big, new house of ours to christen, remember?”

  “Walter! Stop it!” Olivia giggled. When they toured the 10,000-square-foot architectural masterpiece they now lived in, Olivia immediately fell in love. Walter, however, complained that it was too much house for just the two of them. Olivia pointed out that Micah could live in the adjacent two-bedroom apartment and be closer to his father to work on their ministry together, and then she threw in the promise that they would “christen” any of the rooms that he saw fit. That was all that needed to be said. Within days they’d decided the house would be theirs, and as soon as the sale had gone through and they’d been given the keys, her husband had smiled as she started making good on her promise before they had even brought in a piece of furniture.

  “I’ll see you in a few, O’la. Love you.” Walter called her by the nickname he gave her when they first met.

  “Love you too,” Olivia said and hung up.

  A little while later, she was about to head up the spiral staircase when she peeked out of the front window. A flash of light in the distance caught her eye through the window. At first she thought maybe it was a falling star, or maybe even fireworks.

  She looked closer and then realized exactly what it was.

  Chapter 2

  Riley Rodriguez, 1726 Harrington Court

  “Damn.” That was the only thing Riley Rodriguez could think to say as she stared at the large plasma television in her bedroom. She reached over to the nearby nightstand and picked up a lit joint, taking a long drag as she watched herself on the screen, naked and having sex with a man she barely knew. From what she had been told, he was an up-and-coming rapper named Touché.

  Riley stared at herself. Her eyes were closed, and she was moaning in ecstasy as Touché pushed her back, opened her legs, and began pleasing her with his tongue. Her fingers gripped the headboard of the king-sized bed, and from the look on her face and the sounds of her moans, Riley was enjoying herself. But for the life of her, as she watched it play out on the screen, Riley couldn’t remember any of it. Nothing was familiar: not the bed they were in, not where they were, nor when the entire escapade took place. One thing she was grateful for was that her face was beat to the gods. Her weave was tight as hell without a hair out of place, and her manicure and pedicure were perfect. Not to mention that whenever this had gone down, it was during a time when she had to have been hitting the gym, because her body was contoured in all the right places and there was not an ounce of fat to be seen. It was a clear picture taken at a great angle, and now the whole world was about to see it whether she liked it or not. The paperwork had been signed, the distribution deal made, and instead of being the star of the most popular family television show from the eighties, she was about to be another kind of star—a porn star.

  Riley had been in the spotlight since birth. She starred in her first television commercial when she was barely 3 months old, and by the time she was the age of 6, she had one of the most recognizable faces in the U.S. and some foreign countries. Whether it was a commercial for cereal, toy stores, fast-food restaurants, or clothing stores, if they needed a cute face, then Riley was it.

  At the age of 8, she starred in Family Brides, one of the highest-rated television sitcoms, until she was in her early teens and the show ended. Afterward, she was the lead in a teen dance movie that became an instant hit. Against the wishes of her parents and agent at the time, she played the love interest in a hard-core rap video that was so risqué it was shown on the music channels only after prime time. Riley thought it would have led to more adult roles, but instead, the offers stopped altogether. She didn’t let it bother her, though. She felt that it was a sign from God that after working nonstop for years, she needed a break. That break included rest, relaxation, lots of booze, and narcotics: prescription and illegal. The past five years had been a blur, much like her memory of the pending sex tape she was watching.

  Riley took another drag from the joint and turned the TV off. She had seen enough. Reaching over into her nightstand, she took out a book titled For the Love of Thomas. It was about a woman named Sally Hemmings, the mistress of Thomas Jefferson. Riley came across the book during her last stint in rehab. Another female resident was engrossed in it nightly, and Riley was curious about what had her attention so much that the girl wasn’t even interested in sneaking out and getting high with the rest of the celebrity residents. She gave the book to Riley, and from the moment Riley began reading the woman’s story, she was hooked. She had read it three times since being released from rehab. It was as if she was obsessed with Sally Hemmings’s story. She even dreamed about the strong woman and all she endured. It was as if she knew her, like they met in a former life.

  “Riley, are you up?”

  Riley quickly put the joint out and fanned the air. Trying to be as quiet as possible, she reached into the nightstand and pulled out a small bottle of spray from Victoria’s Secret, quickly trying to cover the scent. Riley held her
breath and closed her eyes, hoping the person on the other side of the door would assume she was asleep and go away.

  “Riley, I know you’re still up. I smell the weed. I’m coming in.” The bedroom door opened, and in walked Eden, Riley’s younger sister, carrying a basket of folded clothes and a pile of mail. The two women looked similar, but whereas Riley’s body was the epitome of a Victoria’s Secret model, Eden was not so lucky. Although she was just as beautiful as her older sister, the only modeling she could do would be for Lane Bryant.

  “My bad. I didn’t hear you,” Riley lied.

  “Sure you didn’t,” Eden said, putting the basket on the dresser and tossing the pile of envelopes at her. “Here’s your mail. I’ve already gone through it, and I’ve also talked with Chet and made sure everything is paid for the month.” As usual, it seemed as if the roles had reversed and Eden was the older sister, not Riley. For the past few months, she had stepped in and taken over as Riley’s personal assistant, manager, agent, chef, housekeeper, and anything else Riley needed. Riley had gone through many employees and couldn’t keep anyone around other than Chet, her accountant, and Jeff, her part-time security guard.

  “What about my credit cards? Did he reactivate them?” Riley asked. Chet had canceled her cards and closed her checking account, claiming that her reckless behavior was about to cost her everything she had worked for. He was so controlling, but one thing she could say was that he was brilliant when it came to her money. Even after the craziness of the last five years, Riley was able to purchase the sprawling mansion she wanted in Harrington Point, and still have a Porsche, a BMW SUV, and an Audi convertible. In addition, she had a nice chunk of change in the bank, investments, and a monthly stipend, albeit minuscule and barely enough to live on in her opinion.

  “You don’t need those credit cards. You have your monthly allowance if you want to shop,” Eden told her.

  “That’s barely enough to eat,” Riley complained, lying back on the huge pillows at the head of her bed.

  “Maybe if you didn’t spend so much on weed, it would be enough to shop.” Eden shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “Don’t judge me. I have a lot going on right now,” Riley said. “I’m stressed about my new porn career.”

  “Stop it.” Eden shook her head. “It won’t be as bad as you think.”

  “I really don’t think it’s gonna be that bad. I mean, look.” Riley picked up the remote and clicked the television back on. Immediately sounds of her and Touché moaning filled the room. “I look fucking amazing. Or should that be I look amazing fucking?”

  Eden snatched the remote from her and clicked the screen off. “Riley, you don’t have to play hard-core with me. I know you didn’t want this to happen. It’s kind of an unfair situation.” Eden sighed.

  “Hey, it happened, and it’s my fault. I’m not blaming anyone.” The last thing Riley needed was anyone feeling sorry for her. Her pride was one of the few things she had left these days.

  “Have you talked to this Touché guy? What does he have to say about it?”

  “I don’t even know that motherfucker!” Riley reached into the drawer and took the blunt back out, along with a lighter.

  “What do you mean you don’t know him?” Eden said, taking the items out of her sister’s hand.

  “Eden, this is gonna sound crazy, but I don’t remember even meeting that dude or anything that happened on that screen.” Riley frowned.

  “That is crazy and dangerous, Riley.” Eden shook her head and gave Riley a sympathetic look.

  “One of the downfalls of getting high, li’l sis. Listen to me when I tell you this: just say no . . . to drugs and sex. It leads to starring in porn movies with random strangers. Now give me my stuff back.” Riley held her hand out.

  Eden ignored her and reached for the book instead. “Hey, I read this. This is a great book.”

  “I know. I read it too, three times. This is my fourth,” Riley mumbled.

  “Really?” Eden looked surprised.

  “Yes, heffa, I do read. Well, sometimes when I’m not busy filming pornography.” Riley laughed.

  “Stop joking about it, Riley. It’s not funny, and I know you’re pissed. I don’t blame you. It’s okay to admit that,” Eden insisted.

  “It’s cool.”

  Turning back to the book, Eden said, “I wonder who they’re gonna get to star as Sally in the movie that’s coming out. I heard they were thinking about that Lauren Carmichael chick.”

  Riley sat up in the bed. “Movie? What movie? They’re making this into a movie?”

  “Yeah. I read about it in People the other day. Some big-time preacher bought the rights. He hired that guy who won the Oscar last year to direct it.”

  Riley looked down at the book in her sister’s lap, and a chill went down her spine. She finally realized why the book had been so moving and why she had felt so connected to Hemmings while reading it. “I knew it!” she screamed.

  “You knew what?” Eden looked confused.

  “I am Sally Hemmings!” Riley announced. Eden looked at her as if she were delusional. Riley realized she may have sounded a little bizarre, but she meant what she said.

  “Yeah, you definitely need to lay off the weed, Riley. Is this stuff laced?” Eden sniffed the blunt she was holding, then quickly put it down.

  “I want that role. I’ve gotta get it,” Riley told her.

  “Um, you do realize Sally Hemmings was a black woman, right?”

  “Whatever. I want this. Besides, even being Puerto Rican, I am way blacker than Lauren Carmichael’s high-yellow ass,” Riley said. “And she can’t act. Did you see when she guest starred on that episode of Law & Order? She sucked!”

  Lauren Carmichael was Riley’s well-known archnemesis. For years it seemed as if whatever roles Riley didn’t get went to Lauren and vice versa. When Riley turned down the sequel to the teen dance movie she’d done, the role went to Lauren, who went on to star in the Broadway version of the movie.

  “Riley, you haven’t acted in years,” Eden told her. “You just got out of rehab last week, and considering the next movie that you’re starring in is about to be released”—she paused and looked at the television—“I don’t think they’ll even consider you.” The look on Riley’s face made Eden add, “I’m just being honest.”

  Realistically, Riley knew that Eden was right. It didn’t make sense that she wanted to play this role. But she knew that this was something she had to do, something she was born to do, and something she would do. She just had to figure out how to do it.

  “That part is mine, Eden. I can feel it.”

  Eden didn’t respond right away. She just stood, staring at Riley for a few moments. Just as Riley was about to ask what was wrong, Eden said, “Then there’s only one thing to do. Make it happen. Where do we start?”

  Riley jumped out of bed and smiled. “Where else? We call Peri!”

  “Peri?” Eden gave her a confused look.

  “Yes, Peri. Grab my phone from the dresser please?” Riley asked as she began dancing around the room.

  Eden got off the bed and walked over to the dresser, grabbing Riley’s cell phone and passing it to her.

  Riley unlocked the screen and was about to tell Siri to call Peri when, suddenly, she heard Eden’s voice. “What in the world?”

  “What?” Riley frowned. “Is someone out there?”

  “Give me your phone! Now!” Eden screamed.

  Chapter 3

  Peri Duboise, 1974 Harrington Way

  “Do you love me, Peri?”

  “Of course I do.” Peri sighed, flipping through the latest issue of People and sipping a glass of merlot. It had been an exhausting day. All he wanted to do was relax, but hearing the tone in Logan’s voice, he knew that wasn’t going to be happening.

  “I’m not feeling the love at all. As a matter of fact, I haven’t felt much of anything from you the past few days. What’s going on?”

  Peri glanced up fr
om the magazine, put the glass of wine down, and stared at the computer screen, where he was FaceTiming with the sinfully gorgeous fitness model. Somehow he thought dating someone out of his comfort zone would bring a different result. Normally he went for the quiet, nerdy type: the business owners, computer geeks, and even a few college professors. Logan was energetic, talkative, and rambunctious, in and out of bed. It was new and refreshing when they first began dating. Peri couldn’t wait to see his lover and, while they dined on gourmet meals at the hottest restaurants, listen to the entertaining tales of the daily excitement that happened in the gym or on the set of a magazine shoot. Afterward, they would hit the nightclubs, always enjoying VIP treatment wherever they went. Logan’s face was recognizable, especially since it was on billboards all over town promoting the biggest fitness chain in the city, in addition to being featured on the cover of various fitness magazines. However, to Peri, it seemed that even if the face had never been seen, it was the magnetic personality of Logan that drew people in, including him.

  Peri was having the time of his life, but over time he realized he was no longer interested in enjoying the nightlife, and Logan became somewhat draining. At first, he thought it was because of the slight age difference. Peri was pushing 40 and Logan was only 28. But dating someone younger wasn’t anything new for Peri. Slowly he began to realize that it wasn’t the age factor but that Logan wasn’t the one. As much as Peri loved Logan, he was not in love. And that seemed to be the issue he had been experiencing in all of his relationships over the past few years.

  “Logan, babe, it has been a long day. You already know that. These events are stressing me, that’s all.” Peri wasn’t lying. He was in the middle of planning weddings for two celebrity couples. The first bride was a news anchor for NBC. Actually, she wasn’t the problem, but her fiancé, a decorated war veteran, needed to micromanage every detail due to his desire for everything to appear perfect.