Rhythm Bay Love

by Patricia A. Bridewell

“As Merlon said, there’s a chance you might be the father. You were sedated with a hypnotic drug, and you can’t remember much.” Joy crossed her legs.

  “I get that. It’s still unbelievable. There’s no way I can prove I’m not the father?”

  “A DNA test can be done. Sweetheart, did you hear from Jeanie?” Merlon asked Joy.

  “Not yet. She’ll text before the weekend ends.” Joy looked at Antoine. “She’s an OB doctor, so she can clarify if the DNA can be done before childbirth. We’re not sure.”

  Merlon closed one folder and opened another one. “Last, Kiley’s married, but she’s separated from her husband. There’s a chance that he’s the father.”

  Antoine scooted to the edge of the chair and leaned forward. “I’d like to get this resolved ASAP. What if I agree to pay the ten-K if she agrees to a DNA test and stops harassing me.”

  “That sounds like a reasonable option. We can help you with the agreement. Before you do that, we should find out if you can get a DNA test before the baby’s born.”

  “What if you’re the father?” Jada said.

  He glanced at Jada, dropped his head and stared at the floor. “Then I’m the father, and I’ll take care of my child.”

  His child? And Kiley’s child? Hearing that response was worse than taking a dive off a twenty-story building, tumbling slowly, and then crashing on the pavement. All Jada’s beautiful dreams shattered in a million pieces. Her man fathering a child with Kiley was unimaginable.

  Joy touched Antoine’s hand. “We’ll discuss this again after we find out about the DNA test.”

  “Cool.”

  “There’s more. Mr. Dearden’s report. He’s the PI, and his findings are interesting,” Merlon said.

  Jada held her breath. What else did they discover?

  “We asked that he thoroughly research a few people that might be involved.” Merlon scrolled through the report and looked at Jada and Antoine.

  “Fiona Harris? Your ex, right?” Merlon asked.

  Jada changed positions, frowned and glanced at Antoine, who appeared to get more agitated by the minute.

  “Yes, but she wouldn’t do this. She has no reason to.”

  “You don’t know that. It’s not untypical for ex-spouses, girlfriends, boyfriends to get revenge.” Merlon glanced at Antoine. “Are you aware that she’s Kiley’s cousin?”

  “What the hell—” Antoine shouted, pounding a fist against his thigh. “Crap! Kiley and Fiona set me up.”

  Jada rubbed his back. “Baby, take it easy.” She was shocked by the outrageous information that was disclosed but was even more shocked to hear Antoine use foul language. However, if Kiley was involved, outrageous behavior wasn’t a surprise. When would this end?

  “You think Fiona set you up after all this time? Don’t jump to conclusions,” Joy said.

  “Yeah, but muddy water doesn’t clear up right after it rains. Fiona showed up at my spoken word session when I was up here last time. Now I’m thinking she might be the linchpin in this scheme.”

  “I know you’re angry. It’s just… you can’t speculate that Fiona and Kiley plotted together. Where’s your proof? Remember you went in her apartment,” Joy said.

  “I don’t have any. But if I had to guess, those two are the culprits.” Antoine shook his head.

  “They’re cousins, but that doesn’t prove you’re right. Here’s the PI’s notes and your lab results. Read through them, make your own assessment and draw your own conclusions before you approach them. Don’t talk to Kiley until you hear from us regarding the DNA test.”

  Jada raised her hand. “Can I speak?”

  “You sure can,” Joy said.

  Somewhat nervous, Jada glanced at Antoine, and then faced Joy and Merlon. “Antoine doesn’t know this, but I have information that may help him.”

  Chapter 38

  JADA

  Saturday

  On their way home, a bitter wind swept in a crisp breeze, much different from the sunny-filled day of warmth. Jada threw her shawl around her shoulders and glanced at Antoine. He’d kept his eyes on the road and hadn’t said a word since they got in the car. Maybe he was upset about Gordan. She’d mentioned calling him with good intentions of obtaining information that could be useful.

  “Hello. Calling Antoine to earth,” she snapped her fingers. “Are you mad at me?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m tired.” Keeping his eyes on the road, he twisted his mouth.

  Jada gazed at him. “Too tired to talk to me?”

  He rocked his head from side-to-side. “I’m not in the mood for talking, maybe later.”

  He turned a jazz tune up so loud it could’ve ruptured their eardrums. Was he trying to drown her out altogether? This sudden change of behavior was strange, but she chalked it up to the events of tonight. Nothing had panned out in his favor, and her heart went out to him. She hoped Gordan would willingly share information about what happened between him and Kiley.

  Antoine made a quick right on his street and drove up into the carport of his townhouse. He remained silent in the elevator; his eyes stuck to the elevator lights that indicated each floor number. The bell chimed, and they exited on his floor. He rushed to the door with Jada a few steps behind. When he entered, he pushed a button on his keychain to disable the house alarm.

  “Can you slow down for a minute?” Jada trailed him to the kitchen.

  “What’s up.” He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottled water.

  “My guess is you’re upset about tonight, and I would be, too. I’d like for us to talk, but if you don’t want to, I’m going to bed.”

  “I can’t talk right now,” he said with his head down. “I’ll be upstairs in my music studio.”

  Jada nodded.

  Antoine started up the stairs, not bothering to show her where the studio was located. She had no idea there was one in the townhouse. They’d been so busy; he’d likely forgotten that she missed the grand tour. She walked upstairs to the master bedroom and closed the door. No more begging for communication, at least not tonight. After a warm shower that eased her tension, Jada put on a lavender slip gown, brushed her teeth, and removed a novel from the nightstand. She wasn’t ready for sleep. How could she sleep when her man was so miserable?

  A few hours later, she checked the time. Antoine still wasn’t in bed. She placed a bookmark in her novel, got up and slipped her arms into a robe. She swung the door open and slowly pattered barefoot across the hardwood floor, searching for the studio. Of the three upstairs bedrooms, one door at the end of the hallway was partially open, so she tiptoed to that one.

  Edging closer to the door, she swayed back and forth to Earth, Wind, and Fire’s song, “All About Love.” Antoine said their music was musical poetry at its finest. That man loved him some Earth, Wind, and Fire, and she’d planned to surprise him and buy tickets for a concert, which was coming up soon.

  She loitered at the door before peeking in at Antoine, who was sipping wine and bobbing his head to the beat of the music while writing in a notebook. Wearing his signature white muscle t-shirt and plaid shorts, his preference over pajamas, he appeared more relaxed. He was probably working on his manuscript. She remembered that he told her sometimes he wrote chapters and had them typed later.

  Jada could’ve rested her eyes on him forever. She twirled around and slowly walked back toward the room.

  “You looking for me?” Antoine appeared in the doorway.

  “Uh, no. It’s late; I thought I’d check on you, but it looks like you’re busy.”

  “Come join me. I don’t think I showed you my music studio.”

  “No, you didn’t.” Jada ran a hand through her braids. “Uh…you sure? You’re writing and—”

  “It’s cool,” he summoned her with an index finger. “I’m ready to call it a night anyway.”

  She walked back to the studio and followed him inside. Stunned, her eyes roamed over what appeared to be a full studio — electric piano, large spe
akers, tons of other equipment that she could not identify. “This is fly,” Jada said.

  “It is,” he took a seat in front of his desk. “Have a seat. This place eases my mind, but music, writing, and you… have that effect on me, too.”

  “That’s nice to know.” She walked around, touched the synthesizer, admired photographs of Antoine posing with famous entertainers.

  “That’s the synthesizer,” he pointed when she touched it. “It’s operated by a keyboard, produces a wide variety of sounds and frequencies. Perfect for producing music. There’s a portable keyboard in that corner, and of course lots of Bose speakers for dynamic sounds.” He grinned, “This is my dream room; I usually write in here.”

  Jada sat in a red and black chair and gazed into Antoine’s face. “You mean you write music, too?”

  “At one time, I thought I wanted to. I prefer to play it now.”

  “I’m glad I help you relax,” she looked around the room. “This studio is so cool.”

  Antoine licked his lips. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this Kiley mess.”

  “No, don’t say that. We’ve got to support each other.”

  “I’m speaking truth. You don’t deserve this. If you ever walk away, I wouldn’t blame you,” he draped his arm over the chair.

  “What are you saying?” The negative vibe he pitched at her was outlandish. Was he losing hope already or was something else on his mind? This was not the optimistic, persistent Antoine she knew.

  He picked up his wine glass and sipped. “My aim was to make you happy, not throw you in a lion’s cage. Pop said no; those reports from Merlon and Joy…” he sighed, “blew me away.”

  Pressing fingers to her jaw, Jada tried to understand his sudden shift from optimism to pensive sadness. “The PI’s report is progress, and you should be okay after the DNA test. You know this whole situation is about money. I plan to call Gordan tomorrow.”

  “Nope. That’s another issue. I don’t want you calling that dude or riding in his car. Why are you talking to him anyway?” He snapped.

  With pouty lips, she stared at him with the intent of snapping back but took a deep breath before speaking. “He attends my aunt’s church. I ran into him there one Sunday; we talked briefly…He apologized.”

  Antoine’s eyes had turned red, and his unreasonable behavior meant that he could be drunk. She should’ve read her book and gone to bed.

  “Yeah, an apology means Gordan wants you back.” Antoine rocked back and forth in his chair. “I canceled our lunch with Ellis and Sherrie.”

  “Aww, Ant. For what reason?”

  “Right now, I’m not socializing; my focus is to clear my name. You feel me? Fiona and I need to talk before we leave.” He picked up a pen and started jotting down more notes.

  Jada frowned. “Hold on. What’s the deal with you? First, you’re excited about introducing me to your friends, then you cancel. Now, you’re going to see Fiona? Should you do that without consulting with Joy or Merlon? If she’s involved, she may try to set you up again.”

  “She won’t have time. I’m showing up on her doorstep unannounced.”

  “Oh, no.” Jada jumped up. “Boy, I’m going to bed. You’ve leaped overboard on this one.”

  “Look, I don’t need my sister and brother-in-law telling me what I should or should not do. And why you trippin’? You’re meeting with Gordan,” he said in an edgy tone. He sipped wine and continued writing.

  “Yes, I’m calling Gordan to get information for you.” Jada lifted a brow and crossed her arms. “By the way, how many glasses of booze have you drank?”

  “Not many.”

  “Uh, huh. Too many. Stop with the pity party and try faith. Goodnight, Antoine.” She was done. No way could she persuade him to not visit Fiona. In the morning, she’d encourage him to call Joy before he did something else that he’d regret.

  Chapter 39

  ANTOINE

  Sunday Morning

  A loud blowhorn alarm blasted the studio room. Antoine sprung from the chair, arms flinging in the air; he stumbled and almost fell. Dazed and momentarily confused, the blowhorn transitioned to a soft jazz song, while he found his bearings. Antoine plopped down in the chair and pressed several fingers against his pounding forehead. He’d forgotten to cut off that stupid alarm. 4:52 a.m. Why was he still in here and not with Jada?

  He looked over his manuscript notes; he’d aced his word count, talked to Jada, and— He closed his eyes in the middle of a thought. “Man. That was wrong.” His behavior, the way he treated her. He kicked his foot against a bottle of Moscato that had fallen underneath his desk and spilled on the floor. Stooping down, he grabbed it. The bottle was almost empty, and only one wine glass was sitting on the desk. Unbelievable. I drank nearly the whole bottle. With the bottle and glass in hand, he bolted out the door and downstairs to the kitchen where he discarded the bottle and placed the glass in the dishwasher.

  It was time to get his act together. Fast. Antoine made a cup of instant coffee and drank it black. He opened the refrigerator and picked up two bottles of Perrier water, guzzled half of one bottle. If his head would stop hurting, he could figure out what to say to Jada before she awoke. Embarrassed and guilty, he’d screwed up.

  After Antoine showered, he put on a pair of green and white shorts and made his way upstairs to the master bedroom. He quietly opened the door and eased in bed, gently pushing his body against Jada’s. He placed one arm around her waist; she lifted her head and faced Antoine.

  “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

  “Mornin’,” Jada said in a groggy voice. Whew!” She fanned her face with one hand. “What’s with the coffee breath?”

  He huffed a breath in his palms. “You smell coffee? I brushed my teeth.”

  “Yeah, smells like you bought out Starbuck’s whole stock and drank it all.”

  “Babe, I owe you an apology.”

  “Hmph. Apologize to yourself ’cause you don’t owe me a thing.” She turned over and dropped her head on the pillow. “It’s too early for talking; I’m going back to sleep.”

  “Hear me out. Uh, I drank a little too much last night. I was down, felt like I’d failed you. Said some things I shouldn’t have.” He blew air through his mouth. “Now I have a freakin’ hangover I’m trying to hide.”

  He rested his chin on her shoulder and tugged her closer. “Babe, can you forgive me?”

  “Forgive yourself. Kiley’s messing with your head, and you’re too smart for that. If I survived what I’ve been through, you can, too.” She rolled over and snuggled against his hairy chest. “We got this, okay? And about Gordan, I believe he has some important information that could benefit you. He was briefly engaged to Kiley before he broke it off.”

  Antoine raised up. “Are you serious?”

  “Rumor is… she dated other men, some who work at the station.”

  “You mean she slept with other men and claims I got her pregnant? And that date rape drug…”

  “I tried to tell you last night,” she tapped his nose. “You got buzzed instead of talking to me. Focus on now and the future.”

  “You’re right,” he kissed her forehead. “This puzzle gets more twisted every day. It’s important that I talk to Fiona, though.”

  “Consider this. If she’s involved, will she admit it?”

  “Babe, I don’t know, but I plan to find out. She might give me what I need. The best way to deal with Fiona is face-to-face.”

  “But not at her house,” Jada said, side-eyeing him. “No, I’ll go anywhere except there.”

  He was running out of time, and although he cherished Jada’s suggestions, he’d meet with Fiona before they left. His gut instinct may prove that his suspicions were valid. Either she knew something, or she didn’t. Antoine and Jada reached a truce. He would meet with Fiona, and she would call Gordan.

  They slept in for several more hours, then readied themselves for an early breakfast on Fisherman’s Wharf. After they walked along th
e wharf, Jada wanted to ride the trolley cable car.

  “Okay, this is what we’re doing. Seats might not be available, and the cable car has no doors. So, we’ll jump on the trolley and hold the pole while the car is moving. Don’t jump off until it stops,” Antoine said.

  “I hope we can hang from the side of the car,” Jada said. “That looks like fun.”

  “We’ll see.”

  When the trolley car stopped, they ran and jumped on a crowded car, found positions on the side of the car where they held onto the poles and rode up and down the hilly streets of San Francisco for over an hour. The trolley came to a halt, and they hopped off, along with a group of people.

  “How’d you like the tour?” Antoine said, with hopes that their outing would make up for his ridiculous behavior last night.

  “It was awesome,” she said, with a thumbs up. “I don’t understand how people drive on these steep streets. Me? I’d be taking Ubers or Lyfts to work every day.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. You’d adjust. If you can drive on that wild 405 Freeway in L.A., you can drive here.” He checked his watch. “I think we should get back. It’s almost time to meet with Fiona.”

  “Yeah, it’s about that time.”

  Jada seemed distracted as they walked to the parking lot.

  “Where’d you decide to meet her?”

  “Starbucks. Not far from the house.” He unlocked the SUV and they got inside. “Open the glove compartment and get my other house key. I left the alarm off.”

  “You’re not going in?”

  “No, I won’t have time.”

  Antoine drove home and pulled in the carport. He placed his arm over the passenger headrest and glanced at Jada. “You know this means nothing, okay?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I mean this meeting. It’s solely business.”

  “Hey, I’m fine with that,” Jada said, gazing out the window. “We already talked about this. I trust you; it’s Fiona that I don’t trust.” Jada kissed his lips, got out of the truck, and closed the door. “Don’t be gone too long,” she said, giving him the side-eye.