A Piece of the Pie

by Michelle Lindo-Rice

  “Yes, but it’ll be worth it. You’ve been out of the spotlight for almost a year. People can’t wait to get a whiff of Pumpkin Spice and Thanksgiving’s the perfect time to release your cologne.”

  Zane handed her a towel.

  “Thanks.” Pumpkin blotted at the perspiration on her face and arms. She’d worn a white tank and tan shorts, but after two hours with the heavy lights, she was drenched.

  Zane changed conversation. “I’m hearing a lot of buzz about The Cover-Up. It sounds like it’s going to bring in some serious money.”

  “Cameron’s been real secretive about it. I don’t even know who’s in it. Other than the title of the movie, I know nothing.”

  Zane lifted a brow. “It’s genius. We’re living in the age where news is worldwide in minutes. So I don’t know how he pulled it off, but he did.”

  “He had everyone sign gag-orders. Until the trailer releases next week, no one knows anything. Not even me. He gives the press just enough to keep the buzz going.” She lifted a hand to cover a sneeze.

  “Bless you.” Zane tilted his chin toward the four-carat diamond on her left hand. “Wow. Let me guess. Another peace offering?”

  Pumpkin swallowed. “Like a ring can ever take the place of a baby.” She pressed her hands against her stomach. “He promised we’d start a family. But his company is his true love.” She lowered her head. “I’m just a trophy. The model wife to impress his clients.” Her black pumps clicked on the wooden floor as she made her way to the window.

  Zane came to stand beside her. “You can never be anyone’s trophy. You’re way too independent for that.” He touched her arm. “Be patient. Soon you’ll be trying to run after a pumpkin-haired baby in your five-inch heels.”

  “I wouldn’t want my baby to get my hair.” Pumpkin touched her dyed hair and cringed. She had been born with the shocking orange colored hair and her mother had been inspired to call her Pumpkin. At least that’s what her Grandma Bertie told her. For years, Pumpkin hated her name and hair, until she’d been discovered on the Siesta Keys Beach fourteen years ago.

  Pumpkin shook herself to the present. She wasn’t the awkward fourteen-year-old in braces anymore.

  “Cameron loves you. He just needs to get his priorities in order. Do you need me to talk to him?” Zane asked.

  She shook her head. She wouldn’t invite Zane into their business like that. She had God in her marriage and He was enough. “I’ve been married to your workaholic cousin for six years, so I know he means well. All I needed was a friendly ear. Thanks for listening though.”

  Zane smiled. “Six years is a great accomplishment. In this day and age, if you make it past a month, it’s considered a success.”

  “I know,” she said, “But it’s not easy. It takes a lot of compromising.” She turned to look at him, admiring his dark skin and grey eyes. “When are you going to settle down?”

  Zane stepped back. “Never, I hope.”

  “Never?” she asked. “Don’t you want a family? You won’t be young forever.”

  “I’ve got time.”

  Pumpkin cracked up, waved goodbye and then headed down the stairs. Zane loved women, or to put it more accurately, the ladies loved Zane. She could understand why.

  Zane wasn’t just fine, but he was also easygoing. She’d met him at a photo shoot and Zane had indicated interest. However, Pumpkin had been drawn to the brooding man who stood next to him. Cameron Reynolds, with his smooth dark skin, chocolate eyes and broad shoulders, had been her first and last one-night-stand.

  That was eight years ago. They were married two years after they met and the first three years sped by like the wind. But the night of their fourth anniversary, something changed. Since then, Cameron seemed… preoccupied.

  Pumpkin twisted her wedding ring. For the past eighteen months, Cameron had been obsessed with his newest venture. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else would until this story hit the big screen. Until that happened, there’d be no baby. She shook her head. Maybe not even a happy marriage.

  Pumpkin pushed the heavy, glass door and stepped outside. The humidity hit her in the face. She closed her eyes to block the sun’s rays and dug into her bag to search for her oversized sunglasses.

  She heard clicks and automatically shielded her face from the flashes. It took a moment for Pumpkin to realize she wasn’t the one being photographed.

  Her eyes widened when she noticed the man standing a few feet from her. She smiled and rushed over to him. The two kissed, ignoring the paparazzi egging them on. Finally, they broke apart.

  “Cameron! What are you doing here? Why didn’t you come up to the shoot? Your cousin would’ve loved to see you.”

  He leaned against a black Lincoln Navigator. “I know. Zane’s left me several messages. I’ll catch up with him later. I came to take my wife out on a date.”

  She touched her chest. “A date?”

  Cameron nodded. “I’ve been swamped with The Cover-Up and ignoring my beautiful wife. I think she needs an afternoon of luxury and relaxation. Then I have two surprises for her tonight.”

  Pumpkin lowered her voice. “I don’t need that much relaxation. And I don’t need surprises. What I need is you.”

  He chuckled. “I can handle that.”

  “I hope so,” she teased.

  Cameron held her door open and signaled to Mitchell “Mitch” Goodman, their driver/bodyguard. Once they were both inside, he drew her close to him. Pumpkin propped her leg over his, loving the feel of his thigh muscles under hers.

  Her hand rubbed his chest. “How’s the movie going? When are you going to let me get a sneak peak?”

  “Tonight,” Cameron said. “That’s my first surprise.” He kissed her on the lips.

  Pumpkin rubbed her hands together. “Ooohh, I can’t wait to watch. You’ve been so secretive about it.”

  “I know, but this movie is everything.” Cameron cupped her face with his hands. “It’s Oscar worthy.”

  Goose bumps rose on her arm. “Wow. Who’s the lead?”

  “Percy Stanton.”

  “Say what! How could you keep that from me?” She knew her eyes were round. Percy Stanton was an Academy Award winner and in the ranks of actors such as Denzel Washington. “If Percy’s in it, it’s going to be large.”

  Cameron’s eyes shone. “This is the big one. I can feel it.”

  Pumpkin squeezed his hand. “Let’s skip the massage. I’m ready to put the popcorn in the microwave.” She couldn’t wait to see the movie. She wanted to know what had kept Cameron at the studio and out of their bed for so many months.

  “I have another surprise,” he said. “The entire cast, crew and their family of The Cover Up has been invited to Percy’s for dinner. He’s rented one of the halls in his building to accommodate all of us. It’s going to be a big shindig.”

  She gasped. “We’re going to dinner with the sexiest man alive on the planet and you’re just now telling me?” She fussed with her hair. “If I had known, I’d have made an appointment to see the hairdresser.” Gabby knew how to tame her natural curls.

  “It’s a good thing I’m a confident man,” Cameron chuckled, easing further into the seat. “Or I’d be worried.”

  Pumpkin pinched his cheeks and grinned. “You have no reason to worry. You’re all I want and you know it.”

  Cameron cleared his throat. “Actually, Percy insisted I bring you tonight. He’s a fan and so is his wife.”

  “Shut up! Christine Stanton’s the Queen of the Runway. I’ve wanted to meet her for years.” Pumpkin shrieked and wiggled with excitement. Then realization dawned and she pulled away from him. Her eyes narrowed and her excitement cooled. “Is that the reason why you’re sweeting me up?”

  Cameron looked out the window.

  Pumpkin folded her arms. “I should’ve known. You need the supermodel, not your wife by your side.” She turned her face away to hide the hurt. Where was the man who used to look at her like she was his world? Now he saw her as the
world did. An object. Tears threatened, but she refused to cry.

  “No. No, it’s nothing like that.” Cameron scooted close and whispered in her ear. “I miss you.”

  Pumpkin stiffened. “Don’t patronize me. I’ll go to your event. I have the perfect dress to wear. My makeup will be perfect. I’ll be your doll on display.” She couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her tone.

  “Please don’t say that.” Cameron turned her head to face him. “This is different, Sweetheart. I promise you. I need you. I need you in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.”

  Pumpkin’s eyes misted. She wiped her eyes. “It’s nice to hear I’m needed. I had begun to wonder …”

  Cameron’s eyes were sincere. “Never doubt my love for you. I know I’ve been consumed by this project, but you’re my driving force. You’re my…everything. I…” His voice broke.

  One of the things Pumpkin loved about Cameron was his self-assurance. However, at the moment, he sounded…unsure.

  Her brows furrowed. “What’s wrong? What is it?”

  “I love you. If I were to lose you…” He exhaled.

  Pumpkin’s heart thumped in her chest. “Why are you talking about losing me? Cameron, what’s going on?”

  All sorts of possibilities raced through her mind. She braced herself for his answer.

  His eyes were dark with pain. “I did something and I kept it from you.”

  Pumpkin gave him a cautious glance. “What? What did you do?”

  Her brain went in overdrive. If he cheated on her, she was going to kick his rear end. But she couldn’t picture Cameron in another woman’s arms. Was she being naïve about that?

  “I…” Cameron covered his face with his hands. “I can’t tell you. I thought I could. I thought I could finally face the truth, but I can’t bear to see the hate on your face.”

  “If you don’t tell me,” she said through gritted teeth, “I won’t be responsible for my actions. And what are you talking about hating you? I could never hate you.”

  Mitch pulled over to curb. Pumpkin eyed the Metamorphosis Day Spa sign. Any other day, she would be ready for some relaxation. But how could she relax? She needed to know what was going on with her husband. Cameron made a move to open the car door.

  Pumpkin tugged on his arm. “Skip the massage and all that. I want to know what’s bothering you.”

  Cameron lifted his chin. “I’ll tell you. Just not now.”

  She took in the stubborn jut of his jaw. Cameron had no intention of telling her now. However, she was the empress of stubborn. Pumpkin folded her arms. “I’m not leaving this vehicle until you ease my mind. This had better not be about another woman.” She didn’t think so, but she wasn’t tossing the possibility aside.

  He looked at her as if she had sprouted an extra head. “There’s no other woman. What kind of man do you think I am?”

  Inside, her heart rejoiced, but she wasn’t going to let him see that. “I had to ask, but don’t try to shift the subject.”

  Cameron opened the door and got out. He held out a hand. Pumpkin exited the car.

  “We’ll talk soon,” he said in a firm voice.

  That voice might get others scurrying to do his command, but Pumpkin wouldn’t budge. “I’m not one of your lackeys. I’m your wife.”

  “Yes, and I’m asking my wife to wait.”

  She held up a hand. “Okay.” She’d give in for now, but this discussion was nowhere near finished.

  The couple entered the spa and entered another world. The busy streets and honking were replaced with tranquility. They made their way into the back room.

  Pumpkin froze. She barely registered the scents of lavender and vanilla teasing her nose. The sounds of lapping water signaling peace and tranquility were lost on her.

  Instead, she zoomed in on the woman with the pixie cut sitting in the corner. She wore a plush white robe.

  “Grandma Bertie! You’re here!”

  Cameron laughed. “That’s my second surprise.”

  Pumpkin jabbed him in the chest. “You didn’t tell me.”

  Her grandmother smiled. “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

  Pumpkin scuttled over to kiss her on the cheek. “I can’t believe you left Farmingdale to come up into the city on a weekday.”

  “Wasn’t hard when Cameron got me arriving in a stretch limo.” Her grandmother clapped her hands.

  “If I had known that’s all it took, I’d have a limo at your door every week,” Pumpkin said.

  Bertie’s shoulders shook. “I’m fine where I am.”

  Cameron backed up. “I’m going to leave you both to it. I’ll be home around six. The screening starts at eight tonight.”

  She waved at Cameron before centering her attention on her grandma. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Chile, stop. You were at my house just last weekend.” Bertie jumped onto the table. She was fifty-eight and had a body like Angela Bassett’s. Bertie was more fit than Pumpkin.

  “That was last week.” Pumpkin undressed and got on the table next to her.

  Bertie eyed her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” Pumpkin turned her face away. She didn’t know what kind of psychic powers her grandmother possessed, but Bertie seemed to know when something was wrong.

  “Nothing means something,” Bertie said.

  Their masseuses entered the room, ending the conversation. Bertie was not one to discuss family business in public. For that, Pumpkin was grateful.

  “I’ll have a deep tissue massage,” Pumpkin requested.

  “I don’t know how you can take that,” Bertie said. “I’ll get the stone massage.”

  The women nodded and proceeded to work. The massage eased her body, but not her mind. All afternoon Pumpkin wondered, what did Cameron do?

  4

  He held the stainless steel knife close to her chin.

  Evie couldn’t believe after all these years Rodolpho Barnes would threaten to slice her face. He and his goons had shown up at her apartment in East Elmhurst. She had let them inside, thinking they had word on Freddie. Now he had her pinned against a wall that was in need of a fresh coat of paint.

  Frederick “Freddie” Haynes, her live-in partner for the last ten years, had up and vanished. He sent her to the store and when she returned, he was gone. She thought Rodolpho would know where to find him.

  “I was robbed,” Evie said.

  Rodolpho got into her face. “You think I don’t know when you’re lying?” He moved the knife upward and pressed it close to her throat. His other hand gripped her arm.

  She released short, raspy breaths. A tear slid down her cheek. “I don’t have the money. Freddie took off last month and he emptied our bank accounts. I had no idea he owed you $40,000. You can’t hold me responsible for his debt.”

  He moved the knife again. This time, it was a millimeter from her left eye. “I want my money,” he said through clenched teeth. His gnarly breath hit her face. She hid her disgust and took small breaths. He needed a Tic-Tac more than he needed the cash.

  “You must have something,” he threatened.

  Her heartbeat echoed in her ears. Evie squelched the desire to scream.

  Instead, she licked her lips and played with the button on his shirt. “There must be some way I can work it off.”

  Rodolpho tossed her from him. She scraped her face and hands against the wall, but at least she didn’t fall onto the hard ceramic tiles.

  He eyed her with distaste. “Nothing you have between your legs is worth forty grand.”

  “I’d like a spin at her, Boss,” one of Rodolpho’s goons said.

  Evie bit her lower lip so he wouldn’t see how it trembled. His suggestion repulsed and frightened her. The goon had a scar from his forehead to his chin.

  The other man grabbed his pants. “I wouldn’t mind a taste myself.” He had a patch over one eye.

  She eyed Rodolpho’s knife. She was willing to bet both men had been on the
receiving end of the sharp blade.

  Scar Face moved into her personal space. Evie released ragged breaths. She was about to get raped and there was no one around to save her.

  Rodolpho held up a hand. “I ain’t hurting no woman like that.”

  However, he wouldn’t hesitate to slice her face. Evie’s shoulders sagged and she sank to the floor.

  Rodolpho snatched her by the hair. “Get up.”

  “All you had to was ask,” she mumbled and got on her feet. She moved toward the door to see them out.

  Rodolpho crushed her optimism. “I’m not done with you. You’re coming with me.”

  This time Evie couldn’t hide her fear. She swung around to face him. “What are you going to do with me? I … I don’t… don’t want to die,” she stuttered.

  “You’re my insurance,” Rodolpho said.

  Her shoulders shook. “Freddie’s gone. He’s not coming back. He doesn’t care what happens to me.”

  “You must have someone who could give you the money,” he persisted. “Think.”

  She thought of her mother in Farmingdale. She hadn’t seen her in twelve years. Maybe she could ask Bertie for the money. No. She couldn’t put her mother’s life at risk. Besides, Bertie wouldn’t have that kind of cash.

  Evie’s lips quivered. “I have no one. No one who cares anyway.”

  Rodolpho slipped his knife up his sleeve and opened her apartment door. Evie managed to grab her purse, though it contained nothing of significant value. He shoved her out the door and the men followed. She scrambled to keep up with their longer strides.

  The hallway was deserted and quiet. People were usually hanging in the hall or playing their music, but it was like they knew trouble was present. She tried to keep from tripping on the ratty, brown carpet but her heels kept getting snagged. Evie could remember how clean and well maintained the building was when she first moved in with Freddie. But when they changed owners, everything went downhill.

  Kind of like her life.

  Freddie had been a Wall Street broker. Now he was a heroin addict. Evie had never touched drugs. Well, not since she’d tried a few drags of the green stuff in her twenties. After she’d thrown up, that had been it for her.