by Marcus Weber
“You do that,” Max said cryptically before he turned his back and walked off.
It was a shame that neither Max or Gladstone had noticed that someone had been watching them the whole time.
* * *
In his car outside of Roberto’s, Jackson gritted his teeth. All this time, he had suspected that Antonio just popping up out of nowhere and trying to get into the family business was part of a larger plan. Seeing his supposed brother’s father-in-law sitting down with their biggest rival only confirmed his suspicions. Somebody had to die for this.
“That fucking traitor,” said the man sitting next to Jackson. He was one of their most trusted henchmen. As messy as Jackson was willing to get in the streets, when it came to family matters, things had to be handled much more delicately.
“You know what we have to do,” said Jackson, his teeth still clenched.
“I know,” said the man in the car as he cocked his gun.
* * *
Paige stood back and watched as cameras flashed and the paparazzi yelled out Michaela’s name.
“Michaela! Michaela! This way! Smile, you look amazing!”
Paige shifted uncomfortably in Michaela’s shadow, as usual. Paige’s stomach churned, and suddenly she could feel the effects of her stilettos squeezing her feet. She hated heels. Always had.
“You look amazing! Where’s Rod?” a popular internet tabloid reporter yelled out.
Michaela waved as she dazzled the crowd in a custom-made, floor-length beaded Michael Costello gown. Which of course made Paige feel like a tiny speck of dirt in her store-bought Nicole Miller dress, which, by the way, Michaela had encouraged her to purchase.
Paige felt smaller and smaller as she watched her best friend soak up the limelight. She didn’t know how Michaela could love the spotlight this much. When Paige arrived, she was shocked to see the red carpet and all of the fanfare. She had been under the impression that the party for Rod was going to be a classy, private affair. Wrong. But with Michaela throwing it, Paige should’ve known better. Everything associated with Michaela was over the top, including her life. And this party.
Paige tip-toed away and exited the red carpet quietly. She had no desire to show up on the social media troll pages as the underdressed wife of washed-up basketball player Antonio Roberts. The bloggers had been relentless since Antonio got dropped, and everyone had now gotten wind of the Ponzi scheme that had left not only Antonio, but his many high-profile investors, broke. Not to mention, word got out about Antonio becoming an “executive” at Cartwright Enterprises. One notoriously messy blogger had made a meme with Antonio on the left and Al Pacino on the right that read “Michael or Fredo Corleone, which one?” Paige had heard Antonio cursing about it to his brother Hayden. Life was definitely changing for all of them.
* * *
Paige navigated her way through the throngs of photographers and headed toward the entrance. She left Michaela still smiling, sauntering, and swinging her hair. All eyes were on Michaela, just how she liked it.
Paige still couldn’t believe that just a year ago she was living the high life just like Michaela. Paige couldn’t have imagined she would’ve been thrust into this fake, pretend life she was portraying now. She surely wasn’t looking forward to seeing the girls tonight, or her mother and father for that matter.
Paige headed toward the entrance of the star-studded affair. She smiled some more, showing off her gleaming white teeth. It was all she could do to not feel ashamed of herself. She was kind of jealous of how fiercely independent Michaela was. Being a kept woman had bored Michaela, but it was really the only life Paige knew. Michaela wasn’t about sitting around waiting for a man to spoon-feed her when he felt like it. Her husband, Rod, had had his share of infidelities and bad acts, but none of it seemed to sway Michaela off her determined path.
“Paige! Girl, you look beautiful!”
Paige whirled around to find Koi beaming with her arms extended in front of her. Paige rolled her eyes in her mind, but still smiled and embraced Koi with a warm hug.
“You look beautiful too!” Paige lied. Nothing Koi ever wore was flattering on her. Tonight was no different. The bright yellow, two-sizes-too-small bandage dress Koi had chosen made her look like a stuffed Chiquita banana.
“This girl Michaela absolutely out did herself,” Koi sang as she opened her arms wide for emphasis.
Paige had to agree. The room glowed with black and silver—Rod’s team colors. The centerpieces sparkled with beautiful bouquets of black-dyed hydrangeas, silver roses, and, beautiful, big leaf, pure white calla lilies sitting on top. The glittery silver sequined tablecloths and floor-to-ceiling drapery was a personal touch that screamed money, money, money.
“Well, you know how Michaela does. She has to show the world that she’s happy and rich,” Koi replied with a chuckle. She grabbed Paige’s wrist. “C’mon. Let’s go find the other girls and some damn drinks,” she said, dragging Paige along.
Paige noticed Koi’s husband, the famous . . . or infamous, Damien Armstrong, former criminal turned pastor of Full of Life Ministries. Of course, he was already surrounded by a bunch of women who definitely weren’t Koi’s friends. But, at least Damien was there, which was more than Paige could say about Antonio.
Paige had her winning smile plastered on her face, although she still wanted to turn around and go home. She hadn’t heard from Antonio, and she’d waited as long as she could before she would’ve been way late to Michaela’s party. In the end, Paige had left home without Antonio, and until that minute he still hadn’t returned any of her calls. It had been weighing on Paige’s mind lately how Antonio had been putting his new “business” first. When he was home, all he did was sleep because he’d been out at after-hours meetings so late. All he spoke about now was Emil, Hayden, and Jackson. It was crazy to her how easily they’d become number one in his life. Paige had played second fiddle to the demands of Antonio’s basketball career, and now here she was again, shucking and jiving, trying to appear happy when her insides were raging with anxiety, worry, and sadness.
Paige couldn’t remember fake smiling and artificially giggling this much in a long time. With both of her big toes numb from her heels, Paige finally sat down on one of the beautiful black suede couches and picked up a flute of champagne. She’d been drinking more and more, so gone were the days when she politely declined alcohol with a shy, “I don’t drink.” Paige took a sip and checked her watch. She sighed. Why is Antonio constantly making me out to be a liar lately? she thought. She had told Michaela and everyone else that he was coming. Her jaw rocked as she picked up another champagne flute.
“Wait one damn minute. What exactly happened to the Paige I know that doesn’t drink?”
Paige looked up to find Casey standing over her, smiling, with her cute cheek dimples making her look way more innocent than she was.
“That Paige has left the building,” Paige replied with a chuckle. Then she lifted the second glass to her lips.
“Well, shit. I’m glad. You know I’m a big proponent of women loosening up and not acting like they can’t drink and have fun just because they’re married and shit,” Casey said.
Before Paige could say anything else, she and Casey both paused at the sound of loud voices coming from behind them. Paige turned her head, and Casey turned her entire body at the group of women huddled together around another beautifully dressed woman. They looked as if they were preparing her for a war, as she handed one her purse and another her earrings.
“Oh God, what is about to happen?” Koi said, rushing toward Paige and Casey.
“I know that face,” Casey whispered, pulling out her cell phone, ready to record.
They all watched as the girl stormed toward Rod and Michaela, who’d just made their grand entrance. Paige stood up and swallowed hard. Nothing good could be coming out of this.
“Let’s—” Paige started, but it was too late.
“Rod! Rod!” the beautiful young woman yelled loudly
, aggressively waving at the couple.
Casey moved forward, her phone recording everything. Koi gasped and put her hands on her cheeks like a real-life screaming face emoji. Paige stood, frozen, her feet feeling rooted to the floor.
“You just going to be up in here with this bitch after you told me you left her?” the girl screamed. A collective round of gasps and grumbles rose and fell over the crowd. The girl’s overdone blond-with-black-roots, Beyonce-length weave, swung as her head rocked from side to side. She was not backing down, and she advanced forward so fast no one in the crowd could keep a good grip on her. Her group of friends held her down and made sure she got to her target.
“Oh. My. God,” Paige finally managed. She kicked off her shoes and started toward the melee.
“You have to let this one play out,” Casey said, holding Paige’s arm while she continued recording with her other hand.
Paige twisted away and acted like she didn’t hear Casey. She raced forward. Even with the music blaring, Paige was sure everyone in the party knew what was happening at that point.
“So, Rod, are you going to act like you don’t know me?” the young woman spat, standing toe-to-toe with Rod, pointing a bedazzled nail in his face.
Michaela stepped forward. “Excuse me . . . just who the fuck do you think you are?” She pushed the girl in her chest.
“I’m his gir—” she couldn’t even finish her sentence before Michaela slapped her so hard a tiny bit of spit flew from her lips.
Paige wiggled through the cell-phone-recording and fight-video-hungry crowd.
“Michaela! Don’t!” Paige yelled, grabbing Michaela before she could do any more damage. She had seen firsthand over the years the destruction Michaela was capable of with her bare hands.
“Move, Paige. I’m going to show this little bitch what it means to be bold,” Michaela barked, kicking the air toward the girl. The gloves were off. Fuck a gown; Michaela was ready to destroy.
The young girl smirked. “You might be his wife, but he told me he hasn’t fucked you in years! He wants to be with me, and I am pregnant! Rod, tell her!”
Michaela’s head rocked back like the girl’s words were an actual punch in her face. “What? Oh, no bitch,” Michaela screamed. She moved so fast that Paige didn’t have time to grab her.
“I’m going to kill you. You ruined my party,” Michaela shrieked. She was on top of the girl, ripping at her weave and her dress. It was like something out of a movie.
“Rod, are you going to do something?” Paige screamed. It was as if Rod had been shocked frozen. He finally moved to break up the fight.
“Bitch, you ruined my night,” Michaela screeched as Rod finally picked her up. Michaela’s legs moved wildly like she was riding an invisible bike. She clawed at Rod’s thick arms as he tried to keep her away from his tacky mistress.
That was enough. Paige’s insides exploded with heat, and she rounded on the girl’s group of friends. “Get your dirty-ass friend and get the fuck out of here before you all go to jail. This is an invite-only party and I don’t know how you rats got in, but I definitely know how you’ll be removed,” Paige said through her teeth. It was an uncharacteristic move for her, but the one thing she didn’t want to see was her best friend hurting. Michaela’s beautiful face was a mess of smudged makeup and tears.
“Rod, you haven’t seen the last of me. You and your bitch wife will be sorry for the day you did this to me,” the girl screamed.
Before Paige could react again, security finally swarmed the area and the girl was hoisted up like a ragdoll.
“Get off of me! Rod, tell them to get off of me. I’m your girl . . . remember? Tell them,” the woman hollered, kicking and screaming as she was carried toward the exit.
“Can you believe this shit?” Casey asked excitedly.
A little too excitedly for Paige’s liking. “She’s our friend, Casey. This is not the time for you to be thinking about shit for your show,” Paige said, disgusted, storming away from Casey.
Paige rushed into the bathroom, where a crowd had already formed around Michaela.
“Everybody out,” Paige yelled. “And take your cell phones with you! I’m sure you all are not as concerned as you say you are.”
There was a bunch of grumbling and mumbling, but most of the women began filing out of the bathroom.
Michaela turned toward Paige, tears streaming down her face like Niagara Falls. She smiled weakly, shook her head, and ran her hands down the front of her gown.
“Are you okay?” Paige asked, almost whispering. Michaela waved her hand and laughed, despite the contradictory sadness showing up on her face. “Yeah, girl. That’s nothing. She’s probably a fan. You understand, right? From Antonio’s days,” Michaela said, playing it off.
Paige rocked on her feet. It was a low blow from Michaela, but Paige remained calm. Suddenly, her insides were raging. Why did Michaela always need to drag her down when things weren’t going right for Michaela. She’d been doing that since they were younger. Paige cleared her throat and held tight to her composure. She knew Michaela was hurting.
“You want me to have the DJ announce that the party is over?” Paige managed.
“Hell no!” Michaela laughed. “I spent way too much money on this. I needed this,” she said.
Paige stared at Michaela with sympathy.
“We needed this,” Michaela’s voice cracked.
“Oh, Mick,” Paige said, pulling Michaela in for a hug.
Michaela melted against Paige and sobbed. They both sobbed. Life was so different now for both of them. And, in that moment, they both knew it would never be the same again.
* * *
Paige was on the verge of hysteria all the way home. It seemed to take forever. As soon as she pulled her Benz truck into the circular driveway, her heart sank. Antonio wasn’t home.
“This bastard doesn’t show up to the party and ain’t home either? Real stand up, Antonio. Real fucking stand-up guy you are,” Paige grumbled as she exited the car.
Once inside, Paige kicked off her heels and wiggled her toes. Too much had happened tonight. Her head felt a little dizzy from the champagne, and her stomach felt nauseous as she continued to think about what had happened to Michaela. How fucking embarrassing!
The smell of lavender reached Paige’s senses and reminded her that at least she still had the comfort of her luxurious home to come back to. Antonio was gone all of the time, but it was for a good cause. There was no way Paige could give up what she had become accustomed to.
She shook her head. “You’re doing it again, Paige. Making excuses for him. He wasn’t there because he’s a fucking loser, not because he wants to keep you in this house,” she spoke to herself.
Paige climbed the winding staircase and gently crept down the long hallway at the top of the stairs. When she got to the third door, she smiled at the little wooden basketball-shaped name-plate hanging on the door. She carefully turned the knob and pushed the door open. Her heart melted as she stood and watched the rise and fall of her baby boy’s tiny chest.
“You’re the only man that matters anyway,” Paige whispered. She tiptoed out of the room and shut the door. If she never had the love of any other man, her son Christian’s little hugs and kisses would be enough to last her a lifetime.
* * *
“You up? Hey, Paige, you up?”
Paige groaned and pulled the fluffy down comforter over her head.
“I’m sorry I didn’t make it there. Some shit went down and I . . .”
Annoyed, Paige took the covers off of her head and squinted in the darkness.
“What do you want, Antonio? I’m sleeping.”
“I can see that, but I just wanted to tell you what happened,” he said, his voice cracking like it did whenever he was guilty.
“Whatever, Antonio. I’m so over it all, it’s not even funny,” Paige said, popping up in the bed with her face folded into a scowl. “It’s really funny how you can be there for your new
family but fuck your real family.”
“Here we go again,” Antonio rolled his eyes. “Do you think shit is always about you, Paige? I’m telling you I need to speak to you about something important, and you’re worried about the appearances again?” Antonio snapped.
Paige’s eyebrows went low on her face. “What, Antonio? I’m listening.” She sighed and rolled her eyes. It was always about him.
“Forget it,” he said, slumping down on the side of the bed. “Forgive me for thinking I can speak to my wife about serious shit.”
Paige threw her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. “I didn’t say you couldn’t talk to me, Antonio,” Paige said, softening her tone. There she was, people-pleasing again and putting his feelings before her own.
“I think Rich is dead,” he blurted.
“What?” Paige rasped, barely able to get the word out. “What are you talking about?”
Antonio lowered his face into his hands. “Paige, I know he’s dead. I . . . I . . .”
Paige flopped down on the bed next to him, her legs seemingly giving out. “You what?” she whispered.
Antonio let out a loud sob. It was as if the reality of his new lifestyle had finally caught up to him. His body melted against Paige’s. She could feel the tension easing as she held onto him. He was a like a balloon full of air being deflated.
“I didn’t stop it,” he croaked. “I was there, and I didn’t stop it. He was always there for me. He made a mistake. I did it, Paige. I did it.”
“Shh. Don’t talk,” Paige said softly. “It’s not your fault. Don’t talk about it.”
“You have to hear me out. I need to tell someone this, and you’re the only person who could never testify against me. The Cartwrights are into some heavy shit, and I need to be a part of it for us, but I want you to start making sure we have a plan . . . if ever we need it. We need an escape plan,” Antonio said with feeling.
Paige closed her eyes and shuddered just thinking about what he was saying. She was terrified, but she wanted to be there for him.
