by Tiana Laveen
“Get my ass out the way, huh? I tell you what, Soraya.” Ivy thoughtfully tapped on her lower lip as if mulling over important info. “Why don’t you grind, hump, and fuck yourself back to the stripper pole Paxton retrieved you from? And as far as my attractiveness, Paxton seems to think I look pretty damn good and unlike you, my body is not shot up with all sorts of hotdog and sausage fillers, air balloons, MSG, sand bags, slime, gel, pong table balls, Styrofoam, Vaseline, saline, helium and whatever else you’ve injected inside of yourself to look like a bootleg Jessica Rabbit after being crushed under a carrot truck. Now look, I am not one to snub my nose at a woman making an honest living. It’s a dog-eat-dog world out here, am I right, sweetheart? But what you’re not going to do, Ms. Herpes Simplex 2, 3, and 4, is waltz up to me like you know me and say whatever the hell you feel without consequences.”
“I have text messages!” The woman thrust her cellphone in Ivy’s face displaying a back to back conversation between her and allegedly Paxton, sealed with a saucy, ‘I love you’, at the end.
“Those aren’t from Paxton. His number changed… Nice try, though.”
Soraya’s eyes appeared to be burning like hot coals. The bitch’s reaction made Ivy feel proud.
“You can leave on your own or I can make you!” the red-faced woman barked.
“You and what army? You’ll need the marines and navy, too, because if even one nasty little finger of yours lands on me, that will be the end of your hand job career. Nothin’ but suckin’ and fuckin’ for you from here on out.”
Ivy tossed her cup into a nearby trashcan.
“He’s mine!”
“With Paxton being able to make people disappear so well, I am surprised you keep coming back, like genital warts.” Ivy shook her head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk.”
“He and I were working things out until you came along! I read what you wrote about him. You don’t know him! That’s not the real Paxton.”
“Oh, you can read more than just Dr. Seuss books, Thing Two? I’m amazed! You have no idea what Paxton is like because most of the time he and you weren’t even talking, if you catch my drift. He never opened up to you, so how would you know him, honey? But you sure opened up to him, and he didn’t have to do much to gain access, now did he?”
“Shut up. You know nothing about what he and I had.”
“I don’t need to, but you need to accept the reality of the situation. Some women are queens to their men, the others are bed warmers. There’s a type of woman a man only fucks, and another that he puts a ring on. Look.” Ivy stretched a hand in the whore’s direction, showing her ring finger. “I don’t fight over men, but I will knock your silly ass out so hard that when you come to, you’ll be asking the doctors how to get back to the yellow brick road, so you can go back to sellin’ that ass on it. You’re the one who stepped to me trying to start some mess, remember that when you cry wolf. Nobody has time for this shit!”
Ivy clutched her card to slide into the front door and gain entry. Anger swelled within her, causing her to shake with rage.
“Black bitch! Your hair looks like snakes!”
Ivy… don’t hit her… don’t hit her! Goddamn it! Please let me pop her right in the damn mouth! Ivy, don’t! Paxton, this is all your fault! Always got a bunch of crazy bitches coming after you. This woman is even loonier than you are!
The lady continued to holler and curse and soon, Charles, the middle-aged attendant, approached with quick steps, looking concerned.
Oh, thank God…
But then, she saw Paxton. He caught up to Charles, and the two men walked briskly toward them. Paxton wore nothing but a pair of loose gray jogging pants, the damn things practically falling down around his tattooed hips. His long, bare feet slapped against the shiny floor. His dark brows wrinkled along a creased forehead and words were being shared between him and Charles. He looked angry as hell. Ivy gazed over her shoulder to see Soraya still standing there, only now she must’ve seen the men, too, for she’d grown suddenly quiet, her tirade over. The doors burst open and Paxton tumbled in front of Charles.
“What tha fuck are you doing here, huh?!” the man yelled so loudly, Ivy winced, having to place her hand over one ear.
Soraya sported a sorrowful, melodramatic look in her eyes. “I…I love you. I’ve been trying to—”
“I told you to not come here again. I told you to leave me alone or next time I’d be calling the police! We’ve been done and over with for over a year, Soraya. Move on! I’m beyond tired of your shit… and now I get a call from Charles that ya down here harassin’ my fiancée?! What tha fuck is wrong with you?!”
Not waiting for an answer, he snapped his fingers impatiently at the man. “Charles, call the goddamn police. I’m sick of this shit.”
Then, he took Ivy gently by the arm and walked her inside. She stood next to Charles as the man dialed 911. The thick double doors closed behind Paxton, who continued to yell and scream. The woman seemed to fall apart, bursting in tears, flailing her arms and looking downright pathetic. Ivy shook her head and yawned. It was so surreal…
She was grateful Paxton had already informed her of the one ‘looney toon’ girlfriend who’d been more like a friend with benefits. He’d met her at a popular strip club in town, and they’d had a three-month affair, completely physical and based on lust, but the woman had been telling everyone that they were soulmates and had been together on and off for a year. He’d always had a soft spot for her, so though she would pop up unannounced on occasion, call him a million times until he’d gotten his number changed, or cause a scene at one of his many venues, he’d let that shit go. Until now…
The police pulled up, and as if in some strange dream, Ivy and Charles watched the drama unfold.
“She’s a nut!” Charles said with a chuckle, causing Ivy to burst out laughing and nod her head in agreement. “Are you okay, Ms. Faye? I saw ’er messing with you and couldn’t believe she was here again.”
“Yes, I’m fine. Thanks, Charles.”
“I called Paxton as soon as I saw what was going on. She pops up from time to time and he gave me strict instructions never to let her in. Crazy broads, gotta love ’em.” The man guffawed before turning away and returning to his desk. Ivy made her way back outside but kept her distance. Paxton appeared to be calmer now and was explaining to the police what had taken place with the woman over the course of their relationship until this moment.
“Ma’am.” One of the officers waved her over. “Were you assaulted?”
“No, officer, I wasn’t.” Ivy shot the crazy lady a glance. “She was just verbally abrasive, but no physical altercation took place.”
Moments later, the insane woman was led away. Paxton turned towards her and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Sorry ’bout that, Ivy. Jesus Christ!” He ran his hands through his hair, then took her hand and led her back inside. As they approached the elevators, Ivy burst out laughing. She rested her forehead against the wall, tears of mirth welling in her eyes and her stomach cramping from the ridiculousness of it all.
“What’s so funny?” Paxton questioned, a half smile on his face.
“I’ve agreed to marry a lunatic who has a bunch of ex-girlfriends as lunatics, too. This means that for certain now, without a doubt, I am a nut-job, too! Oh my God… never a dull moment with you, baby… never.” Her lack of sleep had wedded her restlessness and created sheer delirium, but in some strange way, at that moment, she loved the man impossibly more. They got on the elevator and Paxton pulled her to him, kissing the top of her head and holding her close. He ran his hand up and down her arm.
“She said you were gonna knock ’er out and she’d be askin’ where was the yellow brick road…”
“I did. She and Toto can go straight to Hell.”
He burst out laughing so hard, her face shook against his frame. “Ya so mean… she brought that on herself though. Now that the police have been involved, she should pipe down. I’ll be filing a restraini
ng order later on today.”
“Speaking of pipe… got time for a quickie?” She looked into his eyes and winked. Her question was met with a squeeze of her ass.
“I thought you’d never ask…”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Do You Believe in Magic?
…Three months later
Champagne Beach in Espiritu Santo was a place Paxton was certain he’d visited in a former life. The moment he stood close to the shore, the light wind blowing through his hair, inhaling the clean air and being in awe at the crystal-clear water on the island in the nation of Vanuatu, he realized he and Ivy had made the right decision to get married there.
They’d flown out their dearest family members and friends, who were all advised to wear tropical, beachy attire for the ceremony.
Paxton walked away by himself as people gathered and took their seats, needing a moment alone to collect his thoughts. Large white birds flew above the beach, across the blue sky. He looked down at the sand, smiling at the sight of the moist sand clinging to the hem of his white dress slacks. His bare feet sank into the grains with each step he took. Breathing deep, he made his way back over to the beautiful white canopied tent. Fifty chairs were arranged just so in front of it, twenty-five on each side. In the middle stretched a red aisle runner, the pathway covered in vivid tropical flowers.
Major approached him and patted his back. The man looked almost happier than he was.
“Ya all right?”
“Yeah.” Paxton caught his nose and pressed it tight, doing his utmost to hold back joyous tears. “I’m good.” Coldplay’s “Magic” began to play as Paxton joined his brothers and father, standing next to the minister. He whispered in Major’s ear, and the other men all stepped a little to the side.
The crowd got to their feet as Ivy made her way down the aisle. At the sight of her, his heart nearly gave way. Placing his hand across his heart, he parted his lips… but he was speechless. The woman of his dreams was wearing a black and white long, flowing empire wedding gown in a damask print that cinched right under her bosom. The low décolletage curved beautifully over her round breasts, and a cut at the front revealed soft, sheer white layers underneath. Such femininity could only be rivaled by that of the goddess, Venus. Ivy’s hair was piled high on her head, with crystals, shells, and shiny beads scattered throughout her sister locks. Around her neck was a white lace choker featuring a red dice pendant.
“Jesus… you’re killin’ me, baby… you’re so beautiful!” He wolf-whistled as she came down the aisle, causing everyone to laugh, including her. She had her arm curled around her brother’s, who was dressed in a black and white tuxedo with a damask print vest, similar to his own.
The music soon died down and they were finally face to face. Paxton took her hands in his and just stared at her for a moment. Finally, he released her and took a step back as America’s “You Can Do Magic” began to play from the speakers. Removing three red dice from his pocket, he smiled at the crowd, did a 360 degree turn, and tossed them in the air. They hung there, defying gravity and drawing a rapid applause. He then pulled out a red fidget spinner encrusted with diamonds and tossed it in the air, too. It spun next to the dice and they all began to rotate around one another. Ivy smiled wide and laughed, covering her mouth with her hands as her eyes shined with delight.
“I’ve got my own three dice now,” Paxton said. “The fidget spinner represents our future… our tradition… fun… whimsy… control… relaxation… dedication.” He let his love show in his eyes, a message only for her.
The minister began to recite their traditional vows. When it was over, Paxton dropped to his knees before her. He grasped her ankles and kissed her bare feet, her toes covered in henna tattoos and a diamond toe ring. Tears of joy fell from his eyes. When he stood back up, a white bird flew out from each side of his jacket, causing a burst of applause and laughter. Reaching out, he ran his fingertips along her ear and pulled out her wedding band. When the minister instructed him to place the ring on her finger, he did so, and she in turn did the same.
“You may kiss your bride…”
There was nothing more Paxton needed to hear. He pulled her close and kissed her passionately. Cassidy, as well as a few of her cousins and friends, applauded and laughed as he consumed her and she pretended to struggle in his grip. When he pulled away from her, he could taste her lipstick on his mouth when he glided the tip of his tongue along his lower lip.
“You taste like candy…” He snapped his finger and little pieces of clear candies fell all along the red runner. “You’re the sunshine in my storm.” He turned towards their guests, moved his hands as if controlling invisible puppets, and drops of water fell from his fingertips. He ignored the gasps; this show was for Ivy, and those people were there simply to witness it. “You know me better than I know myself, and I didn’t even tell you everything… The best is still yet to come.”
He winked at her, his heart beating fast when he caught her lower lip quivering and her eyes full of emotion. “I believe in magic because you believe in me.” He took her hands in his once again. “You’re my beach, my sea, my one-way ticket away from it all… and yet, you keep me grounded. You taught me how to trust, how to open up, how to not be afraid to share. Ivy, you accept me for who I am, but encourage me to be a better man. Thank you so much, baby. Today, you’ve made me the happiest man alive.”
He kissed her once again and lost himself in her embrace as applause rang out. They held each other so close, and he never wanted to let go. His throat tightened, his tears flowed, his body shook. And his mind, heart, and soul would be forever grateful.
Three red dice…
The mother…
The mentor…
The wife…
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Magic Touch
…Two years later
Grove Crest Lane in Las Vegas was the new estate of the Savelli family. Ivy had been assigned homework. Paxton wanted his wife to find them a new home, one that would be lavish, ridiculously beautiful, and the place where all of their friends and family crashed while in town.
She found the spot all right, and as soon as he saw it, he was eager to sign on the dotted line. The place boasted of two winding gold staircases, marble floors, a kitchen on each floor, a rehearsal studio, library, indoor pool, and more. Two elevators allowed them and their guests easy access to different parts of the property. Each room featured a grand handmade chandelier and Paxton insisted on a state-of-the-art sound system in all the rooms. Today was moving day, and chaos reigned supreme.
The place was now littered with bubble wrap and half empty boxes. New furniture was arriving, including the cable guy and a crew solely responsible for setting up Paxton’s rehearsal chamber in his new sprawling mansion.
Ivy rubbed on her protruding stomach, looking a vision in dark green leggings and a camouflage print tank top. She was on the phone, explaining to her mother why her new job at CNBC News involved her going to Costa Rica after the baby was born. It appeared his mother-in-law was staunchly against that.
Paxton drifted close to Ivy and kissed her neck, fighting the urge to take her away somewhere private and ravish her. The last couple of weeks had been tough on them, and he’d just about give up his pinky finger for five minutes of peace and quiet. But it was no use; there was no escaping the unpleasantness of it all. The home was filled with movers and their ruckus. He had started a new tour, the baby was due in less than three months, and their lives had become a roller coaster—the first hill and loop beginning when they discovered Ivy was pregnant.
This happened after they’d met with an adoption agency, after another doctor had stated Ivy’s chance of conceiving was slim to none. Two missed periods later, cramping and more, Ivy took a pregnancy test and her OB-Gyn later confirmed she was definitely carrying his baby. Their family was ecstatic about the news, and his mother-in-law had already purchased her grandson a host of outfits and toys that she kept sending them photos o
f and went on and on about during her visits. Much to Paxton and Ivy’s surprise, he and his mother-in-law got along quite well and discovered they had a few things in common. His parents were equally impressed with Ivy, and she was a welcomed new member of the family.
“Honey!” Ivy called out over the racket. “It looks like the cable guy is here.”
“All right,” Paxton answered. “Show him where to start. I want to take this box upstairs so it doesn’t get misplaced before I forget.”
“Oh, well, just let the movers do it, Pax.” She placed her cellphone away from her mouth.
“Nah, I’m afraid they’ll put it somewhere it doesn’t belong. It’s my outfits for next week’s show…can’t afford to go on a wild goose chase for this at the last minute.”
He climbed the winding gold staircase towards their master suite. On the way, he took note of the room they’d designated as the baby’s room. Placing the box gently down in the middle of the hallway, he shoved his hands inside his pockets and entered. The walls were painted crisp white with sage green trim around the crown molding. The brand-new crib sat in the middle of the room, untouched. He approached it, trying to envision his baby lying inside. Running his hand along the soft blue and green checkered quilt, the one his mother had made, he choked up on the fact that not only was he a husband, he was a soon-to-be father, too. His eyes watered and he quickly blinked the tears away. Just then, Ivy entered.
“Hey honey—the cable guy, his name is Greg by the way—wants to know if you want… Wait a minute.” Walking to him, she wrapped her arm around him and brought him close. “Are you okay?”
He forced a smile, then nodded.
“Yeah… just happy. This is like a dream.” He ran his hand back and forth along the smooth wood of the crib. “I put this crib together. I painted these walls. We coulda had someone else do it, but I wanted to do our son’s room by myself.” He began to pace the space, then paused to study the window treatments.
