Date Cute Marry Rich

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Date Cute Marry Rich Page 19

by Alexis Nicole


  But I couldn’t turn my head away; I couldn’t look at anyone except Trent. I was mesmerized by his words, by this moment.

  When he slowly dropped to one knee, I was sure that I was going to faint. My breath caught in my throat as he slipped a velvet box from his jacket and opened it for me to see. I was almost blinded by the diamond that shone back.

  “Skye Davenport, would you do me the honor and give me the blessing of becoming Skye Hamilton, of being my wife for the rest of our lives?”

  A hush hovered over the room, and I just stared at Trent. I couldn’t believe this. Hadn’t I just been thinking this morning about loving him completely?

  My eyes went from Trent’s to the ring, then back to the man who loved me without question. In an instant the last year played in my mind. There hadn’t been a day or a time when Trent hadn’t shown me that he would love me forever.

  “Skye?” Trent called my name.

  The only thing that was in my future was happiness with this man. So, the word just flew out of my mouth. “Yes!” I said. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” I exclaimed, pulling him from his bended knee.

  Our friends and family cheered as Trent slipped the ring onto my finger. And then I kissed him with a passion that I usually reserved for our bedroom.

  There were whistles and heartfelt jeers behind us, and when we separated, I looked into his eyes. Trent Hamilton was going to be my husband.

  And I knew in my heart that that was a very good thing.

  Chapter 37

  Devin

  “So, Skye is getting married,” Leigh said. “Do you like the guy?”

  “Yes, and yes,” I said. “But, no!”

  Leigh frowned. “No what?”

  “No, we’re not gonna talk about Skye and her fourcarat diamond ring. . . .”

  Leigh’s eyes got wide. “He gave her four carats?”

  I waved my hand in the air. “Of course he did. He’s Trent Hamilton, real estate mogul, or whatever. But like I said, boo, we’re not gonna talk about this, ’cause that is not why you asked me to come to lunch.” I picked over my salad, wishing that I’d ordered what I really wanted, a hamburger. But I was trying to keep my girlish figure for Antonio. Not that my man had any complaints—I just wanted to make sure it stayed that way between us.

  I said, “So are you going to tell me what this is about?”

  When Leigh sighed, I knew. Really, I knew even before she did that. The only thing that Leigh ever talked about these days was her husband and her marriage. And the way she just exhaled, I guessed things with her and Michael weren’t pretty at all.

  Leigh still hadn’t said a word, so I said, “Please don’t make me have to pull it out of you. I don’t have that kind of time. I’ve gotta be back at the shop in an hour.” I was losing my patience. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to help my friend, but the thing was, it was getting hard with Leigh. Skye and Chyanne didn’t take this much trouble—even with all the drama in their lives.

  And my girls had lots of drama, for real. First, there was Skye, who could not forget about that loser, Noah, but at least she was putting Mr. Locks and Lips behind her and had finally agreed to spend the rest of her life with Trent. And Chyanne had a beautiful daughter and a baby daddy that she was about to take to court. But even with their lives, my girls smiled a little and laughed a lot.

  Leigh hardly ever did either, and it was beginning to wear hard on me.

  “I’m sorry to always call on you, Devin,” she said. “It’s just that I don’t have anyone else to talk to.”

  “Oh, it’s no problem, girl,” I lied. “You know I got you.” Even though I was tired of hearing it, I couldn’t leave my girl out there like that with no backup. And, really, it was only because I was involved with Antonio that this was a problem for me. If it wasn’t for him, I probably could have hung out with Leigh every day and every night, listening to all her problems. But it was hard hearing her go on about her horrible marriage when my life with Antonio just seemed to be getting better and better. He still hadn’t agreed to move in with me, but I had a feeling, because of all the time we’d been spending together, that he was coming close to finally making that decision.

  Leigh’s voice cut through my thoughts. “I thought Michael and I were getting closer for a while, but he’s back to being distant.” She looked down into her salad and swirled a piece of the lettuce around in the dressing. “In fact, he’s more distant than he was before.”

  “Have you asked him about it?”

  “Yeah, when I can catch him at home. But even when he’s there, he hardly talks, and when he does open up, he just says that I’m imagining everything.”

  “Well, maybe you are.”

  When Leigh looked up, there were already tears in her eyes, and that was when I knew this was serious, even more serious than before. “I’m not,” she said. “I’m not imagining a thing.”

  “Okay, sweetie,” I said, wanting to make her feel better. I reached for her hand. “What do you think is going on?”

  It took her a moment to say it. “I think he’s having an affair.”

  I laughed out loud. Please! As gorgeous as Leigh was, Michael would be a fool. I knew relationships weren’t just based on looks, but Leigh had it all; she was the complete package, with to-die-for looks, an amazing career, a charming personality, and all kinds of connections. If I had to bet, I’d say that she’d probably helped Michael even get his job as a sports agent.

  No, no, no! I had never met her husband, but I knew he wasn’t seeing another woman. No man on earth was that crazy.

  “I just don’t believe it,” I said, still shaking my head. “Michael wouldn’t do that to you.”

  “Why do you say that? Men have affairs all the time.”

  “Not your husband. You’re too beautiful.”

  “What does that have to do with anything? Remember Halle Berry?”

  Well, Leigh had a point there. But still, I had to encourage her. “This ain’t Hollywood, and out there it’s hard to make any kind of marriage work. We’re back here with the normal people. Michael loves you.”

  She pressed her lips together and squinted as if she was contemplating what I’d said. “You think that I might be wrong?”

  “I’d bet on it.”

  Leigh sighed.

  “Look,” I said. “Didn’t you tell me that Michael had been really busy at work?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, that’s it. It’s the stress of trying to keep a job in today’s times. And I get that. Unless you’re an entrepreneur, you’re at the mercy of someone else. I’m going through the same thing with my guy.”

  “What’s going on with Antonio?”

  “Nothing. It’s just that he’s stressed out a lot, and it’s hard to be all lovey when pressures are beating you down.”

  She nodded her head as if she believed my words. “Maybe . . .”

  “I’m right,” I said, trying to reassure my friend.

  I could tell that she really wanted to believe me. But she said, “I just think there’s something inside of a wife, some kind of radar that lets your heart know what’s really going on. That’s why that saying that the wife is the last to know is false. . . . Wives always know.”

  Wow! That was deep. I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything.

  Leigh said, “But either way, Devin, I have to find out the truth.”

  It was my turn to nod. “Well, let me know what I can do to help, okay?” I certainly understood what she was saying. I just prayed that she was wrong and I was right.

  Chapter 38

  Chyanne

  I frowned at the FedEx envelope that had just been delivered. What now?

  And then I saw the return address—it was the address of my law firm. My hands were shaking as I pulled out the single sheet of paper and read the note:

  My Dearest Chyanne:

  First, I don’t want you to think that I’m stalking you. I found you through the court records from the child su
pport claim that you filed. That brought tears to my eyes, and for many days I wondered if you and I would somehow be able to work it out since I am now officially divorced. But in my heart, I know the truth. Your integrity would never allow you to become involved with me again; you would never be able to trust me, and I understand that. We have a court date next week, but I just want you to know that you don’t have to go through this. I know that your daughter is mine. Yes, I know we have a daughter. I overheard Nicole whispering it to your assistant. But I do want you to know that you will not have a problem with me paying child support—whatever the court decides will be fine with me.

  I am asking you for a favor, however. I love my daughter already—sight unseen. I found out her name is Justice from the court papers. How appropriate for our daughter. Chyanne, with all my heart, I want to be a part of her life. But I will leave that up to you and will respect your wishes. I just want you to know that I have never stopped thinking about you. You truly were a great love that I lost, and I apologize again for what I put you through. Thank you for the joy that you did bring into my life, and I’ll see you in court.

  I could almost see Malcolm smiling as he wrote that last line. Those were the words that we usually said to our opponents, though I could tell that Malcolm wasn’t saying it in a negative way.

  Wow, was all I could think as I stared at the letter. This was not the way I expected this to go down. I had dreamed about facing off against Malcolm in court. I had imagined that he would be pissed that I’d testified for his wife, so that he would get back at me by denying, denying, denying that Justice was his and then fighting giving me any money.

  But then the second part of my dream—the best part—would kick in, and that was where a year’s worth of my hurt and anger would explode onto Malcolm. Through my screams, I was going to make sure that he understood all the pain that he’d inflicted upon me. I was going to make sure that he felt the physical horror of having his heart ripped apart.

  “I loved you on purpose!” I imagined myself shouting at him.

  And then, in part three of the dream, my words would cut through to Malcolm’s heart, and I’d watch him crumple to his knees as he begged for my forgiveness. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of accepting his apology. I would just step right over him and march away, never looking back and leaving him sprawled in the middle of the floor like a fool!

  I sighed; I guessed all of that was going to remain a dream. None of it was ever going to happen now.

  As I tucked the letter back into the FedEx envelope, I had to admit that I did feel relieved. Up until this moment, I’d been dreading seeing Malcolm again, but there was no need to fear him. Yes, he was a dog, but I was grateful that he hadn’t turned into a pit bull.

  I still had decisions to make, like, was I still going to do this through the courts? And as for a relationship between him and Justice, how exactly was that going to work?

  But I had time to decide how all of that was going to go down. Right now I had to deal with the other person in the Parks household, Kayla Parks.

  It was interesting that Malcolm had sent this letter so that it arrived on the same day that I was to meet his wife. But I knew that God didn’t deal in coincidences, so this had to mean something.

  Not that I felt any better about seeing Kayla. I just prayed that after this meeting today, Malcolm’s wife would be out of my life.

  Kayla was sitting at the exact same table where I’d met her over a year ago, but this time she was alone. When I slipped into the chair across from her, she smiled, and I couldn’t help it.... I smiled back.

  Being an ex-wife had done Kayla good. She’d always been beautiful to me, but she’d also always been angry, which I could understand. Before, she’d worn her pain all over—it had been in her eyes, on her face, even in the way she stomped when she walked.

  But now she looked relaxed, almost ten years younger, and that made me wonder, what kind of marriage had those two had? Not that it was my business, not that I cared.

  “How are you, Chyanne?”

  “I’m fine.” I paused. “You look great.”

  She tossed her hair—which was only shoulder length now—over her shoulder and grinned. “I do look good, don’t I?” Her words were arrogant, but her tone wasn’t, and I chuckled with her.

  She said, “This is what happens when you lose over two hundred pounds.”

  I frowned.

  “That’s how much Malcolm weighed,” she told me.

  This time I laughed. “That’s a good one. I’m going to have to remember that.”

  “I hope not,” Kayla said, suddenly serious. “I hope you don’t ever have to go through what I just went through.”

  To this point, I’d heard only Kayla’s anger. Today I heard her sadness.

  But just as quickly, she recovered and was perky again. “I don’t want to keep you very long.” She paused and looked away when she asked, “How’s your . . .”

  “Daughter,” I said. “I had a daughter.”

  She looked back at me and nodded. She tried to smile, but there was no joy on her face. “Are you happy?”

  “I am,” I said. I knew what she was asking me. “I am so happy that I kept Justice. . . .”

  This time when she smiled, it seemed real. “What a beautiful and appropriate name.”

  I nodded. “I had to keep her. I would’ve never been able to abort. . . .” I couldn’t even say the rest of that.

  “I understand.”

  She looked straight in my eyes when she said, “Malcolm and I wanted to have children. But I wasn’t able. . . .”

  Oh, God! It was too hard to be here. To face the woman whose husband I had in ways that should have been reserved for her. I couldn’t do this. What did she want from me, anyway?

  “Kayla, I don’t want to be rude, but I have to get back to Justice.”

  “Yes, of course,” she said, as if she was snapping out of a trance. She reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope. “I want to give you this.”

  I glanced at it for a moment. What? Another letter?

  But then I opened it, and my mouth got as wide as my eyes.

  “What is this?”

  “A thank-you . . . for helping me.”

  “But . . .” I looked down again, then shook my head. “There is no way I can take this. All I did was tell the truth.” I slipped the check and the envelope back across the table to her.

  She slid them right back to me. “No, please, this would mean a lot to me. Because of you, I found out that Malcolm was worth far more than I even thought. I was thinking he had hidden five, maybe six million dollars. Well, it was much more, and I walked away from my marriage a very wealthy woman.”

  “But . . .”

  “If you can’t take it for me, please, take it for Justice. I feel . . . in a way like I’m connected to her.”

  I looked down at the check again. Justice. This check would mean a lot for my daughter.

  “You have to take it,” Kayla pressed. “Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘Don’t block anyone else’s blessings’?”

  A blessing. That was what this would be. For me. For Justice.

  There were tears in my eyes when I looked at Kayla Parks. This was a woman who could have hated me. Instead, she’d chosen to not only befriend me but also to bless me.

  “Thank you,” I said, my voice coming out in a whisper. “Thank you so, so much.”

  She stood; I did the same. We hugged.

  “Take care, Chyanne,” she said, as if she knew this would be the last time we would see each other. “And please take care of Justice.”

  I nodded, then walked slowly away from her, feeling like I was in a trance.

  Outside, I stood for a moment, not sure what to do. I decided to walk the few blocks to my bank. I needed to open a new account, for Justice, and make her first deposit.

  A deposit of two million dollars.

  Chapter 39

  Skye

  I c
ouldn’t remember a time when I was so early for a date with Chyanne and Devin. But these days, whenever I had a chance to hook up with my crew and see my little goddaughter, I made sure that I was on time.

  Justice—she had her little fingers wrapped around everyone’s heart, and I couldn’t wait to see her today.

  Glancing at my watch, I saw I still had thirty minutes before Chyanne and Devin would arrive, so I strolled down Prospect Park West to check out some of the stores. I didn’t come to Brooklyn all that much, but since Chyanne had moved here and since she was the one with the baby, I made the sacrifice to come over the bridge.

  Two doors down from the restaurant where we were meeting was a variety store—one of those small shops that sold a little bit of everything. I strolled inside. I was always on the lookout for something I could buy for Justice.

  I stopped to skim through the card display. I loved writing little notes to Justice. It was important to me that once she grew up, she knew just how much she was loved—even if her father wasn’t living with her.

  Not that I was mad at Malcolm—he had certainly stepped up. The court had awarded Chyanne twelve hundred dollars a month in child support, but Malcolm sent her two thousand dollars every time. That man might have been a dog, but he’d turned out to be a paying dog.

  I was thrilled for my girl because between not having to worry so much about Justice because Malcolm was accepting responsibility and the money she’d received from Malcolm’s wife, she was set. She had stopped doing freelance work with that new law firm and had opened her own little storefront legal practice right here in Brooklyn. Another entrepreneur added to the mix. Chyanne was living her dream, and I was so happy for her.

  I picked up a card, but I didn’t read it. I just stood there thinking about how wonderful life had turned out for all of us. Even though we’d had our trials, we had all become stronger.

  “You might like this card better.”

  I didn’t even turn around. I couldn’t, not at first. But when I started breathing again, I did. I turned and faced him. I looked into the eyes of Noah.

 

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