Scarlett Love (The Scarletts

by Brenda Barrett

  So that was how he did it. Slater almost smiled. He lulled the prey to sleep and then struck.

  Amoy cleared her throat. "Dad..."

  "Yes," Douglas looked at her innocently, "what have you been reading lately?"

  "Law briefs, the odd recipe book."

  "And you, Slater?"

  Slater cleared his throat. "I, er…"

  Douglas raised his eyes. "You what?"

  Amoy folded her arms and was glaring at her father.

  Slater sighed. "I hate to admit it."

  Sharon was also watchful both of them, looking at him, anticipating what? That he would blurt out his illiteracy?

  "Wrong Side of the Fence by Noah Ess." He said it quickly. "My landlady and I have sort of a book club thing going on and that's what she likes to read. So I oblige her."

  Even Amoy looked surprised. "I love Noah Ess! I have never read that book though!"

  "I love Noah Ess too," Sharon said sheepishly. "Amoy introduced him to me last year. I have read An Impossible Love. Really touching book."

  "My landlady says it is an impossible love because they are from vastly different backgrounds." Slater shrugged and looked at Amoy. "I think it can work. I mean, I don't want to give away the end, but if he makes her happy..."

  "I am a stone cold romantic, and I loved it," Sharon pronounced; she was now as animated as her husband was when talking about sports. "I mean, they were from two vastly different cultural backgrounds. Love is not always impossible all the time."

  Douglas looked between his wife and Slater and rolled his eyes. "Yes, Slater, you should be ashamed of reading romance novels."

  "Oh, shut it, Douglas," Sharon said, her eyes lighting up. "A guy that reads romances… You read Matters of the Heart?"

  "Yes," Slater grinned. "Now I have to admit that I thought that the ending was ridiculous. Who thinks that dying together is romantic?"

  "Romeo and Juliet," Douglas snorted. "Excuse me, while I get a drink. Amoy, come with me now."

  Amoy got up and went inside the house, a sunny smile on her face, leaving Slater and her mother to enthusiastically discuss books—of all the things in the world, who would have thought it?

  ****

  "You killed it." Amoy grinned. "To borrow from the local slang, you nailed it to the floor."

  She was heading to Slater's place. Her parents had considerably warmed up to Slater the more the day had progressed. He had found common ground with her father on sports and her mother on books, of all things.

  Her father had hauled her aside and told her that he had thought Slater would be different. He had said it with a considerable frown. No doubt he had heard the rumors around the office about him.

  His plan to expose Slater as some kind of joke had backfired. And he actually seemed pleased about that.

  "He's okay." her father had admitted reluctantly and then headed outside to suffer through her mother and Slater's everlasting nitpicking of Noah Ess' books.

  "I think my parents like you," Amoy said, glancing at Slater, "especially my mother."

  Slater grinned. "She did say she would love to join me and Mrs. P for one of our book club chats."

  Amoy giggled. "It took me a while to figure out that you listened to audio books. It is a novel approach to teach someone to read. Your Mrs. P is on to something."

  Slater nodded. "She taught people like me for years. If I had her as a teacher in primary school I would be fine now. I think I would love reading. She makes you want to pick up a book, I tell you. Sometimes she has me rushing to work after one of our breakfast chats because we discuss the story for too long."

  Amoy glanced at him and grinned. "Let us read one together, one of your Noah Ess books."

  Slater nodded. "Sure."

  "How does it work?" Amoy turned into the yard and stopped near his front door.

  "We listen to the CDs first and then I read the book. Usually I read out loud, and she corrects me if I am wrong about some things. She has me writing out whole paragraphs. My writing still looks like crap though. I don't know if that will ever improve. I might have to stick to typing stuff in the future."

  Amoy chuckled and then turned to him. "But you have come a long way in three weeks."

  "Yes." Slater indicated with his head to come inside. "We could listen to Fatherless, one of Noah's latest books. Mrs. Perry was quite excited about it because he did the narration himself."

  Amoy nodded. "Sure."

  When she came out of the vehicle she realized how happy she was feeling. Maybe for the first time in years. She had the distinct impression that Slater, who she had thought would be incompatible, was actually the one.

  When she walked around to his side of the car and he held her hand she curled her fingers in his and smiled.

  "Hey, do you realize that this is the first time we have had any meaningful physical contact?"

  Slater smiled and pulled her closer. "Yes, and it feels good. I have to apologize; my place is messy."

  Amoy laughed. "So I am going to meet the real you?"

  "You have the real me. All the time," Slater murmured. He turned to open the front door and she walked into the spacious room.

  It was far from messy, at least by her standards. If anything, it was just slightly tousled. He had dirty dishes in the sink and a pile of cushions on one end of the sofa, like he had laid there. And a pile of music sheets on the piano.

  She shook her head. "You are such a showoff. You need to see my level of messy."

  Slater grinned. "Here is where I live."

  He indicated the open concept place. "My bedroom’s through there, and a bathroom," he said, pointing to closed doors.

  "It is nice." Amoy nodded. "And you have a piano." She pointed to the baby grand. "And obviously you play—not a speck of dust on that thing."

  "Yes, every day," Slater nodded, "especially when I am stressed."

  "Play something for me." Amoy sat in the settee facing the piano.

  Slater chuckled. "Like what?"

  "Like that song that you tried to write me." Amoy closed her eyes. "And sing it too. I have never been serenaded by a guy."

  She heard the rustling as Slater cleared his piano of papers and she heard as he started the first notes of For You by Dennis Brown. It was fast becoming her favorite song.

  He had a lovely voice too. She opened her eyes to a slit and watched him as his hands flew over the piano keys.

  She nodded her head to the beat. It would not be hard to love Slater, the guy without a last name.

  Chapter Thirteen

  "Your brother's back," Debbie said as soon as Amoy entered her office. "John Sauce left a lady in your office. She is supposed to go see your brother and... you look happy."

  "I am," Amoy grinned. "It is a glorious Monday, isn't it?"

  "No. It rained this morning and the tip of one of my shoe heels fell off just when I got out of the car and my husband forgot his keys so I had to turn back when I was halfway on the road battling traffic on Waterloo Road." Debbie muttered. "What do you have to be so happy about? Oh wait, you had Sunday brunch, didn't you? With your new beau?"

  Amoy smiled.

  "And it went well." Debbie smiled. "Well, good for you."

  "Thank ya," Amoy said chirpily just as John came around the corner of the office.

  "You look more gorgeous each and every day," he announced to Amoy. "I never knew that suits could be so sexy on a woman."

  "Watch it." Debbie pointed at him. "You are one more word away from being sued for sexual harassment."

  "Women are so finicky these days," John muttered. "You compliment them and they want to sue you."

  Amoy frowned. "Why are you here, Mr. Sauce? I thought that since my brother was here, he would be taking up this case with you."

  "He said you'd handle it till the end of the week. He is heading out to some meeting with some bigshot person. Heard him on the phone preparing to dash."

  "Okay," Amoy sighed, "let's go."

  She
preceded him into the office and was met by an older lady who was quite big in body; she filled out all the corners of the guest chair and looked like she had some flesh hanging off the seat.

  She was chewing bubble gum and snapping her mouth loudly. She stopped when Amoy entered the office. Amoy had expected an old lady but this lady was not all that aged. She straightened up arranged her very long brown wig and glanced at Amoy.

  "Good morning." Amoy smiled at her, trying to put her at ease.

  "Morning," the lady replied grumpily. "He brought me here.” She nodded to John Sauce, who was right behind.

  "Please have a seat," Amoy said, seating herself in her chair. "Let’s hear it."

  "She knew Peter Scarlett," John said, "I got her to describe him for my friend the sketch artist.

  "Good. Marvelous." Amoy nodded.

  "He was her lover for a while. "

  "My name is Pearlita Johnson. Stop addressing me as if I have no name," the lady said grumpily and looked at Amoy. "John said there would payment for my information.

  Amoy looked at John. "That is between you and John, Miss Johnson."

  She looked at John threateningly. "If you don't pay me, you are going to have problems."

  John pulled out a wad of money from his pocket. "Here's your money. Now talk."

  Pearlita counted it slowly, tucked it into her ample bosom and then leaned back in the chair, quite at ease now that she had gotten paid.

  "Petey worked at the UWI hospital as a janitor for two years."

  "Petey is Peter Scarlett?" Amoy asked, leaning back in her chair as well.

  "Yeah." Pearlita nodded. "He was living over at Black Lane, near the hospital. That was where I lived too for a while, with my kids. Anyhoo, he lived in a one-room place for a couple of months and then he carried this nurse lady to live with him. I think her name was Honey. People used to call her Nurse Honey."

  Amoy nodded. That checked out with information they already had. Nurse Honey Allen was mother to Peter Scarlett's son Oliver Allen, now Scarlett. He had changed his name as soon as he found out about his parentage.

  "And then," Pearlita continued, "the nurse got pregnant. Petey didn't seem like he liked the whole pregnant lady thing so he kinda had other people with her. I was one of them. That Petey was something else. I tell you, he knew how to set the pace and when he..."

  Amoy cleared her throat. "No need to get into those kind of details."

  Pearlita grinned. "Sorry. I knew he had a thing with Keira Facey. She lived beside Petey. She was something of a girl about town, if you know what I mean. She was always trying to get out of the ghetto. She only went with rich men who drove expensive cars and entertainers. That girl really tried hard, I tell ya.

  "And then she got caught up with Petey, as I said, Petey had this way about him that had women melting at the sight of him. And then she got pregnant for Petey, which was stupid; everybody knows you don't get pregnant for certain men."

  John cleared his throat. "You have five children for different fathers."

  "And all of them take care of their kids." Pearlita glanced at him and hissed her teeth loudly.

  "Anyhoo, Keira tried to pin the kid on one of her rich lovers when she jolly well knew it was Petey's. Story come to bump when the man she was trying to pin it on told her he had a vasectomy years before.

  "So she had to admit it was Petey's and then next thing you know the nurse got huffy, as if she thought Petey was faithful, and then Keira got huffy and demanded that Petey take care of her, and then Petey ran away.” Pearlita looked as if she was enjoying telling the story.

  "Keira didn't have any money so she had to do the streets."

  "What do you mean do the streets?" Amoy asked.

  "You can't be that innocent." Pearlita shook her head. "She had to sell herself, sell drugs, that sort of thing. Hustle. It was only until the baby was born. And listen, she had plenty of customers. Lots of freaks love pregnant women."

  Amoy winced.

  "Anyhoo." Pearlita tried to cross her legs and failed. "Long story short. She had the kid. A little boy. She called him Kane, because of some kung fu show she was watching at the time.

  "We all chipped in to help her babysit. The child looked really good too. Very pretty baby. One day Petey came back when the kid was probably two and a half to see him. He told me personally that he got a work on a ship. He promised Keira to help take care of the kid. But Keira had moved on to a really rich dude and she wanted nothing to do with him.

  "Petey told me that he was trying to change his ways but we had one last session you know? And it was good. Very good like old times."

  Amoy sighed. "And the child, Kane Scarlett, where is he?"

  Pearlita shrugged. "When he was about four, Keira left him with us for two months. We thought she had gone for good. We were going to leave him at a place of safety. Nobody had the money to take care of an extra child.

  "Anyhoo, Keira returned, looking good--fatter, wearing jewellery, driving a car. Gave me some cash, told me thanks and took the kid. Never saw him again. I gave him," she glanced at John, "a description of him at that age."

  "Yes," John nodded, "and I had my friend age him. You know, with computer software. He should be about twenty-six now."

  "‘Bout that," Pearlita muttered. "Now can I go? I left my stall downtown with my daughter. I don't trust her with my goods for long."

  Amoy nodded. "Thank you very much, Pearlita."

  "No prob." Pearlita nodded. "I wish I could help you more."

  ****

  Slater had a delivery to do at Dubois and Chang in the morning. It was something he was looking forward to. After he and Amoy had spent the evening together talking, he realized that there were a couple of things that she liked. She loved flavored teas, she loved oldies music, she loved sophisticated foods and she loved babies. Out of the four things, he had decided that he could afford flavored teas on his budget, so he had gift-wrapped a package of teas: raspberry, mango, lemon and orange spice. He had read them off the label with ease.

  The lady in the supermarket was probably wondering why he was standing looking at the tea and grinning from ear to ear.

  She wouldn't understand.

  Usually, he bought things based on pictures. This time he could understand the words. Though for a while he had thought lemon was melon. He had a sneaky feeling he would always have to look twice at words that were spelt closely like that.

  He entered the lobby. There were quite a few persons there. There was that guy he had seen with Amoy at the jazz concert sitting in one of the chairs, staring down at his laptop with a frown; a very big lady in a too-tight dress was walking through the lobby like she was in a hurry. She almost pushed him over.

  She looked at him and grinned. "Sorry, in a hurry."

  He nodded.

  She went to the door, paused and looked at him again, and then grinned in a flirtish way. Slater swiftly turned toward Lydia, who was on the phone and attending to someone already at the desk.

  He was surprised when Amoy herself came out into the lobby and greeted him warmly.

  "Hey Slater, come into my office. I'll sign for the package."

  Slater smiled, walking behind her. He didn't miss the way that the guy she had gone with on the date looked up like he wanted to say something to her, but Amoy only had eyes for him. It made him feel good.

  "This is Debbie," Amoy introduced him to her secretary, a pleasant-looking woman who was busily typing up something while somebody dictated over the phone. She waved to him. Slater waved back.

  And then they were in her office, a spacious room with a huge desk and important-looking books lining one wall and a picture of her in a graduation hat with her parents and her brother. He had seen that same picture of them at her parents’ place.

  "So, good morning." She leaned into him and closed the door.

  "Good morning." Slater smiled. "I have never been in here."

  "And you have never kissed me before," Amoy murmured, ho
lding up her face to his. Slater swallowed. This was like all of his dreams wound up into one. He reached down and brushed her cheek. He lowered his lips to hers and fished his hands through her hair, holding her captive to his kiss. He could feel the quickened beat of her heart, heard the soft little moan that escaped her lips as she kissed him back as hungrily as he was kissing her.

  The knock on the door drove them apart. Slater's hands were trembling; his whole body was twanging with reaction.

  "I should get that." Amoy cleared her throat; her ears were red and she looked flustered.

  He smiled at her. "I should go. Your office looks busy."

  Amoy nodded.

  He opened the door and Jay, her ex, was standing there looking at the two of them suspiciously.

  "Hi Jay, I completely forgot about our meeting." Amoy cleared her throat. "I was tied up in some personal business."

  "Oh, I forgot," Slater put the gift-wrapped tea package on her table, "this is for you."

  Amoy smiled.

  "And you need to sign for that." He pointed at the package on the desk.

  Amoy signed the clipboard quickly.

  All while Jay stood at the door, a downward tilt to his mouth, coldly staring at them. Jay seemed jealous. Slater smiled. "Have a good morning, Ms. Gardener."

  Amoy grinned. "And you too, Mr. Slater."

  He glanced at the paper on the desk; it was a sketch of a little boy. "Cute kid."

  Amoy nodded. "One of my clients. If I could only find him."

  Slater walked past Jay and nodded. He was still holding himself stiffly at the door.

  "Have a good day, Jay."

  Jay did not respond.

  ****

  "I didn't know the musician was a delivery guy. And you are seeing him?" Jay asked as soon as they reached the boardroom.

  Amoy glanced at him. "Yes. So?"

  "So?" Jay frowned. "This is unusual. Are you going through some sort of midlife crisis?"

  "No. And I don't consider myself to be middle-aged," Amoy grunted as she sat down. She had rarely thought of her and Slater's age difference in the last couple of weeks. Now she felt like an old creaky granny when Jay mentioned a midlife crisis.