Underestimated Too

by Jettie Woodruff

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. You okay to go home by yourself?” Drew asked, looking at me.

  “Deidra, can we have a minute?” I asked. I didn’t want to go home alone. I wasn’t afraid of Drew.

  “Morgan, just go get Nicholas and go home, please,” Drew begged when Deidra left us, and I went to him.

  “I don’t want you to be alone.” I worried, leaning into him. He wrapped his arm around my waist and kissed my forehead.

  “I need you to. I need to not be around you right now. I’m too angry. Please just go home and give me some time.”

  “Okay,” I reluctantly agreed. He knew his tolerance more than I did, and I assumed he realized it was a bad idea to be alone with me. I should have been grateful that he recognized that beforehand. I wasn’t, and I wanted to be with him.

  Chapter 11

  Drew never touched me that night. He actually came home in an appreciative mood, being very attentive to me and baby Nick. We laughed and played with our son on the floor of his enormous room. He was so smart for being under one year old. Drew built a tower out of the plastic blocks and Nicholas would sit, patiently waiting to knock it down and then giggle. I loved his little laugh. The angels in heaven stopped to listen when Nicky laughed.

  We finally agreed on a nanny, Melissa. She lasted a week before I didn’t want her there anymore. We’d already agreed that she didn’t need to spend the night and would leave after preparing our evening meals. She wasn’t as good with Nicholas the way Marta was and treated him like a job. Not to mention, I wasn’t too keen on the way she stared at my husband either. So we fired her.

  “Just let me call Marta,” I begged. I wanted Marta back.

  “No, Morgan. She quit. I’m not hiring her back. We should have kept Melissa.”

  “Melissa couldn’t cook, and she wasn’t happy to be with your son. Marta’s eyes lit up at the sight of him. Please, Drew. If she says no, I’ll let it go.”

  “You make me crazy. I’ll call her later. Now get out of here before I bend you over my desk and beat your ass, I have work to do.”

  “Can you do that later?” I teased, kissing his warm lips.

  “I can definitely do that later. Get out of here,” he warned, smacking my ass.

  ***

  “How many more times do we have to do this?” Drew complained as we dressed to meet Deidra for our Thursday meeting.

  “I don’t know. Until Deidra thinks we’re cured, I guess.”

  Drew walked behind me, glancing at my reflection in the mirror.

  “We don’t have time for that,” I assured him, feeling his half-mast hardness on my ass.

  “Yes, we do. You can’t walk around in your dainty little underclothes and expect me not to want to stick it in you.”

  I laughed. “You’re so romantic.”

  I laughed again when Drew reached to the side of the marble countertop, pulled out a fake pink rose and hand it to me. “Now can I stick it in you? You owe me.”

  I turned to him, feeling the sensation in my pussy, wanting him too. “I owe you for what?” I asked in low sexy tone, kissing his solid chest.

  “I got Marta back, remember?”

  “You love Marta too,” I accused. He did love Marta, he just didn’t love her sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.

  “Take your panties off,” he whispered, sucking hard on my neck.

  I slid out of my panties and lifted myself to the counter. He stepped away. He always did that. I hated and loved it at the same time. I hated exposing myself to him like that, but loved the look in his eyes when he looked at me.

  “Drew, we don’t have time for foreplay. Are we doing this or not?” I complained. We should have already been in the car.

  Drew removed himself and rubbed the tip of his head up my slippery, oh so wet pussy a few times before sliding it into me. Once he started circling my clit with his thumb, I was spent, calling out in a moan. Drew moaned next, pulled me to the floor in front of him and fucked my mouth, draining himself in my mouth and around my lips.

  ***

  “I was beginning to think you two were ditching me today,” Deidra spoke, leading us to her office.

  I was a little nervous about this session. I knew we’d be getting into the time Drew and I first met. We hadn’t discussed what we would say. Did Drew plan on telling the truth? Would he tell her that he bought me to be his wife with my own money? I was right. We had barely even sat when Deidra asked the question I knew we were going to talk about.

  “Tell me about meeting Morgan,” Deidra requested from Drew and not me.

  Of course Drew got up, walked to the window, and poured a drink from the bottle that Deidra already had out for him. “Well, I learned about Morgan the day after I buried my mother. I got pretty drunk the night before, sitting out on the balcony alone, sulking.”

  I couldn’t believe that his so called girlfriend wasn’t with him.

  “By ten at night the inspiring city lights started to be nothing but a blur as I drank vodka, trying to make sense of a fucked up mess. There was no way my life could get anymore fucked up. That had to be it. Michael Callaway couldn’t possibly do anymore. He took my mother when I was ten and he took her again when I was twenty four, this time for good,” Drew sadly explained.

  My heart already ached for him and he’d just begun.

  “I woke to the ringing of my phone, slumped in a drunken stupor in a lounge chair on the rooftop, overlooking the Vegas strip. ‘Yeah?’ I answered, sitting up and rubbing the ache in my sore neck.

  ‘Is this Mr. Kelley?’

  ‘Yes it is, but if you don’t mind could you call the office. I’m dealing with some personal issues and will not be in today. Leave a message with Lois and I will get back with you,’ I tried. I really didn’t want to deal with work, wasn’t sure I ever would, not the way I felt at the moment anyway,” Drew admitted, glancing my way.

  Drew resumed, “The caller did catch my attention.

  ‘Mr. Kelly, this is Spring Valley Medical Center. We have you down as next of kin for Randal Callaway.’

  I stood, running my fingers through my hair. Now what? This could not be happening, I thought. My life couldn’t possibly go anymore south than it had over the last week. ‘Okay,’ I coaxed.

  ‘Mr. Callaway had a stroke early this morning. We need you to come down as soon as possible.’

  ‘Is he okay?’ I inquired.

  ‘He’s hanging in there.’

  ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can.’ I’m sure it was a little facetious of me, no, it was a lot morbid of me, but I smiled full of excitement. Clicking my heals in a motivated jump, I entered the house to shower, overjoyed with the thought of both the Callaways being out of my life and leaving me so much money. Taking my time, I showered, had my new Porsche delivered to my door, and even stopped off at Pipers Bakery for a bagel and fresh cup of coffee.

  Putting on my serious, remorseful expression, I walked through the double doors of the hospital, ready to receive the unfortunate news of the dying Randal Callaway. I sure would miss him and his fuck face son. Once again, I had to stifle a smirk. Be somber, Drew, I warned myself as I asked where I could find Mr. Callaway.”

  Hmmm, Drew was a very good story teller. I felt like I was right there, living the events as he told them. Deidra didn’t look fazed a bit. I was sure she’d heard some pretty intense stories, doing what she did.

  “He really did look like death. The right side of his face drooped, his breathing was being controlled by oxygen, and he was wired to more noise making machines than I could count. I never spoke to him that day, he never woke up. I did, however, play the role and continued to stop by for the next three days, never seeing an improvement. That made me very happy. ‘How is he?’ I smiled a flirtatious smile to the familiar nurse.

  ‘Much better, he’s awake,’ she flirted back.

  My smile instantly vanished, and I frowned, noticing Warren Fitch exiting the building. What the heck was he doing there? Mr.
Callaway told me that he’d had his will changed the day after Michael was buried. Shaking my head as I realized what was going on, I entered his room. Of course everything was left to my mother, and now, well, he was there to sign everything over to me. Lucky me, I thought. ‘How are you?’ I asked, pretending to give a shit. He did look better, although his face still drooped on the one side. He was sitting up and his right arm lay dead, palm side up in an awkward position in his lap.”

  Drew described like it was yesterday. His attention to the detail surprised me a little, not that I was complaining. I wasn’t at all. It intensified the things he was saying leading up to meeting me.

  “Mr. Callaway ordered me to sit down. I sat with a scowl, barely understanding what he’d said due to the slur in his speech. He nodded to his personal nurse. ‘Hand me that folder,’ He signaled, struggling to speak. Mr. Callaway never told me to come to him or to stand. I moved to his side, needing to see what he had. Positive it was the new will, leaving everything to none other than me; every last dime. He nodded towards the door, excusing the lady.

  ‘We can do this another time. Let’s wait until you’re feeling better,’ I pleasantly and sympathetically offered. I didn’t need to know how rich I was going to be right that second. It could wait. Mr. Callaway opened the manila folder and pulled out a picture. I frowned, looking at the dark haired girl, maybe sixteen years old. Moving my eyes to his, I waited for an explanation.”

  The picture was me, I was sure of it before Drew even said so. I wonder where it is now.

  “Then Callaway stunned me with his words, ‘This is my granddaughter,’ he said, smiling at the girl in the photo,” Drew said while turning to smile at me.

  I smiled back with an increase speed of my heart.

  “I told Callaway, ‘Granddaughter? I think you need to rest.’ I knew he didn’t have a granddaughter. He had one son, Michael, and he was dead. I was sure the old fucktard was delusional.

  ‘I wanted to tell you a few days ago. Things have been a little crazy around here this past week. Michael told me about her the day he passed. He’s never taken care of her. Look how she’s been forced to live,’ he said, sliding the photos clumsily to the side.

  I grimaced, inspecting the photos of the girl who looked like welfare scum. She was welfare scum. Somebody was after his money, my money, it was all a scam.”

  “I am not welfare scum,” I had to spit out.

  “I know you’re not, love. I’m telling a story from eleven years ago, okay?”

  “Okay, sorry,” I apologized, trying to tell myself how long ago this was, and he was only describing how he saw things. I needed to calm down and let him talk.

  Drew began again, “So I told Mr. Callaway, ‘With all due respect, I think this is some sort of a hoax. I’ve lived with Michael since I was twelve. We’ve worked side by side for the past ten years. I’m sure I would have known this.’

  She’s his. He was sure. His thumb brushed over the girls face while the expression on his own looked sorry, or upset that she was there,” Drew explained like he was talking about someone other than me, or like I wasn’t even there.

  “Callaway was adamant. ‘Look at her hair. Look how there are no curls except at the bottom. That’s a Callaway trait. Look at her eyes. Those are Callaway eyes,’ he said.” Drew sternly mimicked Mr. Callaway.

  I smiled at his acting ability.

  Drew continued, “I thought it was absurd. So what if the girl had green eyes. Lots of people had green eyes. ‘Where did you get these photos?’ I wanted to know.

  ‘I sent Walker there to get them for me. I wanted you to go, but after a series of unfortunate events, I sent him. You’re going there now.’

  Confused, I asked him, ‘Going where?’

  ‘You’re going to West Virginia, I want her mother to go away.’

  I was sure his stroke had gone straight to his head. He was insane. I wasn’t going to West Virginia.” Drew laughed a little recollecting that day. “Shocked, I hesitantly asked, ‘You want me to kill the mother?’

  ‘No, I don’t want you to kill anyone. I want you to offer her money. See this? This is her little brother. He doesn’t belong to Michael, but I’m willing to take him too. I would feel horrible for leaving the boy in that situation.’

  I looked down at the little boy maybe four of five years old. Nothing, I wasn’t feeling the sorrow for the family that he was feeling. I wasn’t going anywhere near that place.”

  The mention of Justin made my chest heavy, causing me to hate Drew—again. He could have taken him. Justin could have lived at the mansion with me. Pulling my thoughts away from my little brother, I turned back to Drew, continuing to relive that time in his life.

  “Callaway began telling me, ‘Her name’s Morgan. Isn’t that a lovely name?’ he asked with some sort of nostalgic smile, gazing down at the girl in the photo like he missed her or something. He didn’t even fucking know her. I felt like I needed to sit down.”

  “Drew, you’re talking about me. Stop saying that girl,” I demanded, getting angry. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help the nostalgia that I now felt with the mentioning of Justin, and him calling me that girl, was pissing me off. I was sitting right there.

  “You were that girl then. Do you want me to stop?”

  “No, go ahead,” I pouted with a wave of my hand for him to continue.

  Drew continued in Callaway’s voice again, “I informed Callaway that this lady was not going to sell her kids. ‘This is absurd. She’s probably just after your money. Stay away from them,’ I ordered, sure that someone was playing a dirty trick on him, wanting my money.”

  “You mean my money,” I spat out. I couldn’t help it.

  Drew gave me a dirty look right after Deidra did, and continued, “Callaway started yelling then, ‘She doesn’t know I EXIST,’ getting angry with me.

  ‘This is crazy. What do you want me to do?’

  ‘I want you to go there, offer the stupid bitch enough money to go start a new life, get her out of there and away from those kids.’

  ‘And the kids?’ I asked, this idiot was delusional. He wasn’t making a bit of sense, I thought.

  ‘You’re going to bring them here, but not yet.’

  ‘Bring them here?’

  ‘Yes, Morgan is going to graduate in a few months. I don’t want to disrupt her last year of school. She probably has friends and proms and stuff,’ Callaway said to me.”

  I snorted.

  Deidra interjected Drew’s story, “Do you have something to say, Morgan? I think maybe you should be involved a little more here. Why did you just snort when Drew mentioned your school?”

  “Nothing, it’s just that I didn’t really have that kind of school,” I replied.

  “What do you mean?” Deidra asked.

  Drew turned and leaned against the windowsill to listen to what I had to say.

  “I didn’t go to dances or proms. I didn’t really have friends.”

  “None?” Drew asked, like he was surprised that I’d never gone to school dances or anything. I wasn’t really that type of girl.

  “Not really. My cousin Stacy, I guess, and I had a friend, Julie, but she got pregnant in the ninth grade, and we didn’t really hang out after that.”

  “Boyfriends?”

  “No, I wasn’t really the pretty girl at school. Kids either made fun of my clothes and shoes, or ignored me altogether. Can we just get back to the story?” I asked, wanting the focus off me and back on Drew.

  “Drew?” Deidra nodded for him to continue.

  “I tried to tell Callaway that I had business to tend to, that I didn’t have time to be dealing with a couple of inbred hillbillies from West Virginia—No offense, baby,” Drew quickly added. “I couldn’t believe Mr. Callaway was serious about this. I thought he was going to add a heart attack to his stroke.

  He sat up with a look of pure vengeance. ‘That inbred hillbilly is my granddaughter, and furthermore, she has my blood running through h
er veins. YOU DON’T!’ he kindly reminded me with a yell which in turn caused his personal nurse to rush in.

  ‘Mr. Callaway, please calm down. You can’t be getting yourself all worked up like this,’ she pleaded with him, rubbing his arm and glaring at me with warning. ‘I’m fine,’ he assured her, patting her hand. Please leave us. We’re just about finished here.’

  I gave in, ‘Fine, what do you want me to do? I’d do whatever he was babbling on and on about just to put this shit behind me.

  ‘I want you to marry Morgan and take care of Justin,’ Callaway stated.”

  Now I was pissed all over again at Drew. I knew he said it was all him, he was the one that didn’t want to take Justin, but hearing him say that Callaway was willing to bring him there too, infuriated me to a point of boiling over. Bouncing my knee in effort to keep calm and rid angry energy, I turned back to Drew, biting my bottom lip to keep quiet.

  “I sat down on that note. He was beyond crazy. Planting myself in a chair, I assured him I was not going to marry some girl I’d never even met. ‘I’m not going to marry that girl. You just said she wasn’t even eighteen yet.’ I sighed.

  ‘And you’re only twenty four. She’ll be eighteen before you bring her here.’

  ‘Mr. Callaway, sir, I am not going to marry this girl. I don’t even know her. She’s not going to want to marry me. This is ridiculous.’

  ‘Fine, you can see yourself out.’

  I stood, shaking my head. Hoping he’d be in his right mind after he rested a little. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ I said warily, making my way across the room.

  ‘Walker, seize Drew Kelley’s funds from my estate, have the locks changed on the mansion and his high-rise, and send someone to pick up his car from the hospital.’

  Of course, I stopped dead in my tracks, listening to the one sided conversation. I turned to him with a frown, and he smiled the same smile that I’d seen on Michael’s face a million times. I wanted to drop kick him. ‘Hold off until I call you back,’ he lilted with a deviant, victorious smile. ‘Change of heart?’ he taunted me.