Scarlett Love (The Scarletts

by Brenda Barrett

  "Sure," Edwin said dryly, "but how is it that you were going to give Amoy Gardener her baby? You do know that's how they are made normally?"

  Slater closed his eyes and swallowed convulsively. He had thought of that too, for the most of the way after exiting her posh car, which smelled so good, like her.

  While the rain was pelting him in stinging wetness. He had thought about her naked and willing and writhing beneath him in pleasure. He had never really thought about her like that before. Most of his thoughts of Amoy Gardener to date had been fairly innocent but tonight had changed that.

  Tonight she had told him almost bluntly that she would like to have sex with him until he made her pregnant.

  Goodness gracious, how would he deal with this? He wanted to--he'd be a liar if he didn't admit it to himself—but not like that. Not clinical, without her loving him, like a one night stand you struggled to forget the next day.

  He wanted her to love him. He needed her to love him. Like he was stupid enough to love her?

  Shut up, shut up, shut up, he told the voice in his head. He didn't love Amoy Gardener. He didn't know her. He admired her from afar; he had a crush; he felt a strange stirring when she was near. Love meant deeper things. Like that song, For You by Dennis Brown, the one he had tried to pen for her.

  But whenever he heard it he thought of her. Felt like he could do what the lyrics said, do anything for her.

  Like giving her a baby and then walking away?

  "Slater," Edwin whispered.

  "Huh?" Slater opened his eyes, slowly.

  "If you are going to do it, get her to marry you first; you'll have a better legal footing then."

  Edwin coughed. "Don't sign any papers about relinquishing your paternity or anything like that. And for God's sake, learn to read. She's a lawyer; she can tie you up in a million pieces when you can read, much less when you can barely make out letters properly. Just make sure that before you sign anything you bring the contract to Edmond so that he can act in your best interest."

  Edmond was a trained attorney who never practiced law but kept abreast of the profession, as Edwin would well know. He had successfully challenged their parents' will that left the house to Edwin and had won his share.

  They now lived in the same place, even though Edmond could live somewhere else much better than the four-bedroom dwelling in the rapidly gentrified middle class neighborhood of Havendale.

  If Edmond could beat the last will and testament of Edwin's parents, he could go up against Amoy if push comes to shove.

  Slater sat up straighter and looked at Edwin. "You think I should do this?"

  "I think you love her. She may be way out of your league but she is still human and female and if there is one thing that I know about them, it is they are emotional creatures whether they are educated or not, rich or not. I just want you to protect yourself if you are going to go through with this."

  "Thanks Edwin," Slater said, his voice cracking.

  Edwin gave him a half smile. "Sounds like you are going with option 2."

  "No," Slater shook his head, "I might do option 1 and stay well away from her but thank you for caring about me. You are my only family, you know?"

  "I know." Edwin muttered, tears at the corners of his eyes. He turned on the television and blinked them away.

  ****

  It was raining when Slater got up at five. The rain had eased earlier in the night but it was back in earnest. He looked in on Edwin, who was snoring loud enough to shake the leaky roof. He had to set buckets all over floors to catch the dripping water and he had to clean the floor from puddles.

  He wasn't looking forward to riding all the way back to Beverly Hills in this weather. He grabbed Edwin's truck keys on the dresser, hoping that Edwin had enough gas in the old vehicle to reach the other side of town.

  He opened the burglar bar to the garage, which separated the house from Edmond's side—what he fondly liked to think of as the rich new side. Edmond had upgraded his side of the house with all the modern conveniences and had changed the flooring from the old terrazo tiles in the garage, which was considered a common area. To be fair, he had offered to do the same for Edwin's side but Edwin had refused.

  The automatic light came on as soon as he disarmed Edwin's truck; he looked around for the camera and then waved to it. Edmond was a little bit paranoid about his safety. He waved to reassure him that all was well. He had to do it before Edmond called the twenty-four hour security company that practically lived at the house ever since Edmond hired them.

  He sat in the truck and tried to start it. At the best of times it was temperamental; this morning it refused to even turn over, only a weak click that the starter gave, which barely acknowledged that a key was in it.

  Edmond peeped through the window after hearing him make several attempts to start the vehicle.

  "Come on, Betsy," Slater whispered to the old pile of metal. "I can't ride in this rain now. I was shocked enough to do it last night; this morning I am not in the mood."

  Edmond knocked on the window when he gave up and put his head on the steering wheel.

  Slater turned and looked at him.

  Edmond looked very much like Edwin, except for the fact that he dyed his hair in an attempt to look younger. And he whitened his teeth and wore contact lenses instead of glasses.

  Edwin, who was a year older, called him vain. Slater thought Edmond was just conscientious about his appearance. He had once told Slater that he was still in the market for a wife. He liked getting married; he’d had four wives so far. All of his marriages ended in divorce.

  Edmond drew a car key out of his pocket and dangled it at Slater.

  "You can drop me off at the airport later today. You can keep my car for the two months I'll be away."

  Slater looked over at the SUV, which was considerably newer and better looking than Edwin's truck.

  "You sure you want to trust me with your new car?"

  "It's just a car." Edmond shrugged. "Keep her clean."

  Slater took the key and grinned. "This will be fun."

  Edmond frowned. "Don't let it be too much fun,” and then he lowered his voice. “I need another favor."

  Slater moved closer. "What is it?"

  "I heard you offered Blossom money to take care of the old man."

  "I did." Slater nodded.

  "Forget about it." Edmond snorted. "He's my brother. Had I known that the old coot was sick I would have had a doctor come in to look at him. I asked Blossom to see to his needs while I am away. Of course, she'll have to pretend like I had nothing to do with it."

  Slater nodded.

  "I am not the evil person he is making me out to be, you know," Edmond said wistfully. "He still thinks I am jealous about him marrying my ex and the whole parents issue where the parents left him the house."

  "But you are not jealous?" Slater said slowly.

  "Nope. Far from it." Edmond raised a brow. "I don't need to live here. I can live anywhere; I fought the will because I foolishly wanted us to be on speaking terms again. We are old men now; it shouldn't have to be so hard."

  "Maybe fighting him about the house wasn't such a good idea," Slater suggested.

  "Maybe." Edmond shrugged. "But I thought if I moved to Jamaica and lived with him he would at least be forced to talk to me. Instead, he grunts at me. And gives me a disapproving eye."

  Slater grinned. "I know how he gets."

  "I know you do." Edmond cleared his throat. "That's why I want you to convince him to let me work on his side of the house. The place needs some serious upgrades. His roof is leaking."

  "Oh boy," Slater sighed. "I'll try."

  Edmond inclined his head. "And I am sure you'll succeed. You are like a son to him. He listens to you."

  "Sometimes." Slater grimaced. "When it comes to you, I am not sure he will. What time should I pick you up today?"

  "At two. I have a five o'clock flight but I need to make a stop at the Mid Town Medical Associates p
lace."

  "Everything okay?" Slater asked, looking him over. He seemed fine.

  "Well, I..." Edmond smiled sheepishly, "I am seeing a doctor there. It's a recent thing. I want to give her a gift before taking off. I don't want her to forget me."

  Slater grinned. "Okay, thanks for the car. I was not looking forward to riding in this rain."

  "It's nothing." Edmond waved him off. "Just be here by two."

  Chapter Seven

  Amoy got up with a raging headache, which she was sure was a result of lack of sleep and intense brooding.

  She had fallen asleep at the crack of dawn and she was sure that she hadn't winked five times before Morpheus had jumped on her bed and meowed in her ears so loudly that she had thought something was wrong.

  She struggled to get up and sleepily made her way into the kitchen behind Morpheus. He made his way to his empty food bowl and then looked up at her meaningfully.

  She had given him his morning meal, groggily trying to wipe the sleep from her eyes and valiantly trying to forget that she had blundered and bustled her way into a conversation with Slater the night before.

  What on earth was Slater thinking about her now? Had she really asked him for his sperm?

  She groaned out loud. Morpheus stopped licking himself and eyed her steadily.

  "What?" Amoy asked. "Trust me, you don't want to know what I did. I have always maintained that desperate women are not attractive. But here I am, desperate as they come. Take your fill, Morpheus; look at me. I actually asked a guy for his sperm, and not in a nice way either. I blurted it out; I made a mess of it.

  "And you know what he did? He shrank away from me in horror. He looked at me like I had lost a screw and then said, ‘Goodbye, Amoy.’"

  Morpheus seemed as if he shook his head in pity.

  Amoy grimaced. Even the cat thought she was nuts. "So now I have to apologize."

  "Mew," Morpheus replied.

  "I will do it today," Amoy answered, as if the cat really had asked her when. "After he shows up at the office. I'll go over to him. I'll apologize. I'll tell him to forget about what I said. I am sorry, I am so, so sorry and then I'll pretend I never said it to him. I can do it; it's not as if I like him on any level except the most basic. He's just the delivery guy. A very handsome delivery guy but still the delivery guy."

  Morpheus walked away from the conversation.

  "I am not being a snob, Morph," Amoy called out to the cat. "I am being real here; a relationship between us is not possible. Can you imagine us at a work function or at a restaurant or Sunday brunch with my family? Suppose my dad asks, as he is known to do, ‘So Slater, read any good books lately?’ Can you imagine it, Morph?"

  Morpheus threw a loud meow over his shoulder and headed to the patio.

  Amoy shook her head. It was crazy how sad the thought that Slater could not fit in her life was making her. The more arguments she gave herself against him, the heavier she felt inside.

  She didn't just want Slater for his sperm, as she had so inelegantly put it. She was lying to herself. She might not be able to imagine him readily in her professional and family life but she had spent most of her night imagining him in her bed upstairs. Her brainpower had not all been focused on what she said but she was highly focused on how it would be accomplished.

  She almost jumped in the air when her house phone rang. She looked at the clock. It was too early for business. It had to be family.

  She picked up the phone and answered gingerly to a chirpy and chuckling Eugenia.

  "Hello, miss pretty."

  "Eugenia!" Amoy squealed, quite relieved to get her head from her musings.

  "Lunch today," Eugenia said brightly. "My office or yours?"

  "Yours, but it has to be a late lunch. I am having a meeting with one of my clients till one thirty."

  Amoy sank down on the bar chair in relief. She needed Eugenia's opinion on what she did. She needed to talk to someone who could respond with something other than a meow. Having lunch with Eugenia would be perfect.

  ****

  It was a gray day. The clouds looked bloated and ominous. She dressed in all black to head to the office—gray day, black clothes and a feeling of unease. Perfect. As soon as she stepped in the reception area she headed for Lydia. The sooner she got the apology over and done with it, the sooner she could move on with her life.

  "Lydia, when the delivery guy comes, could you please let me know?"

  Lydia's eyebrows lifted in query. "Why?"

  "None of your beeswax," Amoy snarled. "Just do it."

  "Okay," Lydia mumbled, "no need to sound so angry. You guys into something?"

  "Pardon me?" Amoy spun around and gave Lydia a hard, discouraging look which completely went over her head.

  She was grinning, a sly look in her eye. "You can tell me, it's not as if I will tell anyone. At the last office I temped, the boss, a very well-known lady, was getting it on with the junior accountant, very very junior accountant, her son's best friend."

  "Why on earth would you jump to such a conclusion about me and the delivery guy?" Amoy frowned. Did she have it written all over her that she had a thing for Slater?

  "Because he asked for you yesterday." Lydia placed her hand under her chin in a serene pose. "At first I thought that he wanted a lawyer but he gave me some story about you being his teacher and all that. I knew that was false. A guy like him knows how to read, so I am jumping to the obvious conclusion. He is your little fluff on the side."

  Amoy rolled her eyes. "I am counting down the days till Tessa gets back. She is discreet and minds her own business."

  "Ha," Lydia grinned. "I am counting down the days too because you guys at Chang and Dubois are boring."

  Amoy fanned her off and went to her office.

  "Morning, boss," Debbie greeted her as she passed. "You look a little pale."

  "Long story," Amoy muttered. "What have you got for me?"

  "John Sauce. He is in your office." Debbie nodded to the door. "It's open so I can monitor him. He was going to leave when I told him Zack wasn't here and that you were handling the Scarlett business till he got back. I just persuaded him to have a seat in your office."

  "Okay. Let the day begin!" Amoy headed to her office and sat across from John Sauce, a slim, skittish-looking young man who was drumming his hands on the desk and looking cornered.

  "Good morning, Mr. Sauce."

  "Wowzer!" John grinned, "You are pretty. I was happy to come by to see Zack. I thought I would get to see Terri at the front desk too, but he married her! If I worked here that would not have happened; she would have fallen in love with me."

  Amoy chuckled.

  "But you are better than dealing with Zack," John said dreamily. "You are like the hottest lawyer girl I have ever seen!"

  "I am long past being a girl," Amoy snorted. "How may I help you, Mr. Sauce?"

  John asked hopefully, "You could go out with me?

  Amoy did not even respond to his flirting. "I heard you were here about the Scarletts?"

  "Oh yes, yes... that." John nodded. "I think I found the last known address of Peter Scarlett, two years ago. I thought that he was working as a chef at Vacay Cruise Lines, but apparently it wasn't him. That was another Peter Scarlett, a Scottish guy. Zack asked me to double-check. My current lead is an address in St. Mary."

  "Good," Amoy nodded, "so let us know your findings when they are ready."

  "I told Zack that I had a lead on a couple of girls, Mandy Grizzle, Pearl Lightman and Lisa Barclay. Zack said I should investigate Lisa Barclay to see if she is the missing Alicia Scarlett. When I went to her last known address she wasn't there. The elderly couple at the house said she ran away."

  Amoy sighed. "Are you sure that this Lisa Barclay girl is the same as Alicia Scarlett?"

  "No," John said sheepishly. "Sorry, but I am sure I will find her."

  "You haven't found not one person on the report." Amoy looked at him dispassionately. "Are you competent enough to
do this job, Mr. Sauce?"

  "Yes," John nodded, "I am. And I did find Noah Scarlett--well... I think it is him."

  Amoy exhaled loudly and with such a prolonged expulsion of breath that John started looking nervous again.

  "As for Kane Scarlett, I know somebody who knows somebody who..."

  Amoy interrupted him. "In your report you said he works at King Express. We checked. There is no one working there or who ever worked there named Kane Scarlett."

  "It was a guess. Ricardo Mills, who I was working for before, said he saw somebody that looked like a Scarlett working at KingEx. He was definitely sure that it was one of the missing Scarletts. I came to the conclusion that it had to be Kane Scarlett, since Oliver Scarlett was sure and is in Africa definitely, and Noah Scarlett is in Mobay... I am sorry about that too."

  "Mmmph." Amoy grunted. "How can I take you seriously?"

  Amoy's phone buzzed and she saw that it was the reception line; she picked it up in haste.

  "Excuse me a minute, Mr. Sauce." She was waiting for this call from Lydia, to tell her that Slater was outside.

  She inhaled. She would have to face Slater now. She clutched the phone in a suddenly clammy fist.

  "Yes, Lydia."

  "He's not working today," Lydia said sullenly. "They replaced him with an ugly one."

  "Lydia!" Amoy chastised, though she was feeling disappointed. "Thank you nevertheless."

  She hung up the phone and drummed her fingers on the table. Did he stop from work today because of her?

  "You look so pretty when you stare in space like that." John's voice intruded on her contemplation.

  Amoy focused on him and gave him her best no-nonsense voice. "Sorry? I didn't get that."

  "Nothing," John said hurriedly. "I, ah, I found somebody who knew Kane Scarlett when he was a little boy. This is a solid, authentic lead. I could get her to describe him and then get my friend to do a sketch for me. And then have a friend of a friend use an aging software and see how he looks today. After that, I guess you folks can do a fancy DNA test and confirm once he's found."