Real Love 6 (I'm Still In Love With You)

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Real Love 6 (I'm Still In Love With You) Page 2

by H. H. Fowler


  They worked closely together on the campaign trail, helping David Wheelie to secure the votes of Trinidad’s vibrant youth population. That one night they’d spent together in a hotel during one of their travels to the U.S with Sabrina’s father, had turned from an innocent touch to an exploration of the forbidden. From that night onward, Annalise had never been the same, because she’d fallen in ‘love’ so deeply with Sabrina that it began to eat away at her once-reserved personality.

  And thinking how she’d given her all to this relationship with Sabrina, wounded Annalise to the core of her soul. She made a show as if she was walking away but then circled back and began attacking Sabrina’s fiancé like a wild cat, getting in as many claws and as many slaps as she possibly could. Her moves were so swift that Mark stumbled backwards in shock, tripping onto the floor. He did his best to block his face from Annalise’s wrath, but it was useless.

  “Why are you trying to take her from me?” Annalise screamed. “I oughta kill you, you bastard! You deserve the worse possible death!”

  “Annalise!” Sabrina cried. “Leave Mark alone! He has nothing to do with this…”

  “He’s brainwashed you,” Annalise retorted. “Men like him could never understand the love between two women, but would only try to destroy it! Stay back and let me handle him!”

  “No, Annalise! I can’t let you hurt Mark…I love him!”

  “No you don’t.”

  “I do love him…”

  “No you don’t!” Annalise pranced up and slapped Sabrina into the wall. “Get a hold of yourself, young lady! I am more to you than ten men could ever be to you.”

  Tears flowed down Sabrina’s cheek, but she was not going to let Annalise slap her around. She bounced off the wall and charged at Annalise. The two women wrestled, yanking each other’s hair with as much force as they could produce. Mark stood to his feet and backed away into the shadows. With so many of the news stations already on the compound, he did not want to be found anywhere near something like this.

  Armando was en route to the bathroom when he heard the racket. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw the prime minister’s daughter rolling on the floor with another woman. They were grunting obscenities and exposing body parts. Being the concerned man that he was, he quickly attempted to pull them apart before the crowd gathered. But by the time Armando had gotten a hold of Annalise and had dragged her on the outside, people were standing around with their smartphones, recording whatever little was left of the juicy bit that was sure to become a huge scandal in Trinidad. And certainly it was – one of the biggest scandals in Trinidad’s history. That night would be the beginning of many nights that Armando had gone out of his way to comfort Annalise.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” Armando said to Annalise’s faraway look. “And then I’m going to practice for a few hours with the band. Tonight’s turnout is expected to be bigger than last night and I want to be at the top of my game.”

  Annalise shrugged. “It’s your world, Armando. I’ve only come along for the ride.”

  Annalise’s response was meant to spark an argument, but Armando decided not to take the bait. “Well, you can come along if you want,” he said half-heartedly. “But I don’t want you complaining that we are taking too long practicing our music. I would prefer that you go by the pool and take a swim…I heard swimming is very therapeutic for pregnant women.”

  “Where’d you hear that nonsense? What if I sink to the bottom of the pool and drown?”

  Armando smirked. “You are so melodramatic.”

  Annalise looked away, as she secretly played with an electronic key to Room 5020 – her access into Rena Henderson’s private sanctuary. “You go on ahead,” she said. “I have something to do anyway.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes…go and enjoy your little time away from me,” she said, turning her penetrable gaze back to her husband. “I know you would love that.”

  More bait meant to pull him into an argument. Armando simply nodded and continued on toward the bathroom. If Annalise’s stares could have incinerated Armando, he would have been up in flames a long while ago. She swallowed her irritation and allowed a listless smile to creep upon her lips. If Armando thought for one minute that he was going to drop her like a hot potato and run off into the sunset with Rena, he had better remember that she was no one to mess with.

  Chapter Three

  10:01 a.m.

  Sasha emptied the first load of laundry into the washing machine and then hastened toward the kitchen with her cell phone attached to her ear. There, her freshly brewed cup of chamomile tea awaited her return. But so distracted was she by her urgent need to contact Levi that she forgot to put detergent in the running water. Saturday mornings were usually her time of relaxation, to catch up on some housework and maybe read a book, but Sasha’s thoughts were traveling a hundred miles per minute in fear of what the end of the day might turn out to be.

  Those malicious emails – which had been sent to her around five o’clock this morning – threatening to put her personal business into the streets if she did not comply to their demands, had not only thrown her well over the edge, but left her with no choice but to swallow her pride. She would drop to her knees begging, if she had to – to convince Levi to return to Xavier High so that he could accompany the boys’ basketball team to the national championship. Because there’s no way she would let one little, spur-of-the-moment kiss ruin the future she intended to have with Drake.

  Despite the mounting fear, a part of Sasha believed her blackmailer was only testing her and hadn’t any intention of really exposing her. In fact, she had an idea who was hiding behind the alias, Anonymous_Eyes. It had to be one of the boys on the basketball team, because only they were around whenever she and Levi would argue like lovers, which of course, could have been interpreted as such. Plus, the ‘kiss’ had happened in the boys’ locker room, where the boys moved in and out all of the time. One of them could have easily slipped in unannounced and secretly recorded the scene using a cell phone. Now they appeared to be using the clip in hopes she would bend to their demands.

  And if Sasha really wanted to pin down a specific boy who was likely in charge of the operation, her inclination would lean heavily toward Myles Deveron – the star athlete of the basketball team, who happened to be one of Levi’s favorites. That ‘bad boy’ scowl Myles had given her in the school hall the other day was enough for Sasha to deduce that Myles had it in for her. He probably thought that she was the reason why Levi had resigned and had left the basketball team without a coach to accompany them to the national championship.

  But knowing that she could be battling against a misguided sixteen-year-old, rather than against the tyranny of a nameless fool, gave Sasha an even greater determination to outwit her blackmailer. Myles would listen to Levi, if he listened to no one else. But what did it matter if she couldn’t even get Levi to pick up his phone? She’d called him at least a dozen times that morning, which made Sasha think that Levi was intentionally avoiding her calls. She was actually incensed by the thought and vowed to set Levi straight the moment she caught up with him.

  Leaving her chamomile tea barely touched, she suddenly pitched up from Hunter’s dining table and went hunting for her husband in the guesthouse. She had an even better idea than trying to contact Levi. She would simply reveal to Drake the contents of her secret and then explain to him that she was being blackmailed by a teenager. Certainly such a move could tip the scales in her favor as Drake was overly protective of her. And although Sasha knew that Drake would not agree that the kiss between her and Levi was an insignificant detail, she was confident that she stood a better chance telling Drake the truth rather than allowing Myles to get the upper hand over her.

  I won’t need to contact the police, Sasha harrumphed silently, recalling the blackmailer’s instructions, because I’m going to nip this mess in the bud right now. The nerve of you, Myles, to do something like this. You better believe you won�
�t be playing basketball at Xavier High anymore or for any other school, for that matter. And so Sasha was prepared to bare all – lies, deceit; her little secret she’d kept from her husband. That was until she entered the kitchen and stumbled upon a conversation between Drake and a white man who appeared to be a realtor or some sort of real estate lawyer.

  Sasha’s brows creased in confusion. Her husband hadn’t informed her of any visitors coming to see them this morning. Furthermore, how had this white man gotten past the main house to the guesthouse without her being aware of it? Was she so taken in her thoughts that she was that oblivious to her surroundings? In any event, Sasha was greatly annoyed that her courage to tell Drake the truth had been diminished by what she heard the men discussing. She inched back behind the wall before they spotted her eavesdropping.

  “And how many square feet is that one,” Drake asked, pointing to a photo of a Mediterranean-style home with Spanish roof tiles and an opulent driveway. “I want something large enough that my wife and future children can be comfortable in. Especially after all the hell we’ve been through within the last nine months of our marriage; I want the house we’re about to move into to represent a fresh start.”

  The realtor laughed. “Well, with a home this size,” he said, “I’m certain you could easily fit an entire basketball team in it with no problem – space enough for eight or more persons. You’ll have all of the fresh starts you need and then some.”

  “So how large is it?” Drake pressed.

  “Fifty-eight hundred square feet with six spacious bedrooms and four baths. The space also allows for a two-story living room, a study, a media/game room/home theater, butler walk-in pantry, a lush courtyard, and a cozy loft…” The realtor paused when he saw a grin had pulled Drake’s lips to the side. “Need I go on?”

  “Yes, please continue. I can just imagine the surprise on my wife’s face when she finds out what I’m doing for her. She’s always been a fan of such special features in a home. And my desire is to give her whatever she wants.”

  “Well, I can assure you, your wife will be more than pleased,” the realtor said. “However, before I continue, I do have a question about the two other homes you told me about over the phone. What are you going to do with them?”

  The homes the realtor was referring to were the ones that Drake had inherited from the late Rev. T.G Henderson. Although Drake hadn’t physically toured the two houses, he’d seen pictures of them, and they were much smaller than the home he was looking to buy for Sasha. The homes Rev. Henderson had bequeathed were one-story, cookie-cutters that would do well for first-time buyers like himself, but why settle for less when he knew Sasha would not be happy about the decision. Of course, she would tell him that she would be content to live in whatever type of home he placed her in. But Drake knew better.

  “I thought about giving one of them to my mother,” he said pensively. “The other one I plan to put on the market for sale. My wife and I have always preferred a two-story.”

  “Like I always advise my clients,” the realtor said, “go with your heart, and your budget, of course, because you’re the one who has to live with the decision.”

  Drake smiled. “I wholeheartedly agree. So, let’s talk numbers. How much is the house?”

  “Right now it is listed at eight-hundred and forty-one thousand dollars. But it’s been on the market for over a month and plus the market value is slightly overstated. I believe going in at between seven-hundred and eighty thousand to eight hundred and ten thousand would be a sweet spot for a solid negotiation.”

  With 3.1 million dollars now sitting safely in his bank account, Drake didn’t feel nervous about the price at all. Even if the home had cost a million dollars, he would have still considered it – just to see that gracious smile radiating on Sasha’s beautiful face. He stared down at the photo of the home again before turning his attention to the realtor. “When can you take us for a tour?”

  “Whenever you guys are ready. In fact, we can go now, if you want. The property is not too far from here in Emerald Bay.”

  Emerald Bay was top pedigree when it came down to real estate – even more affluent than Paradise Blvd where Hunter resided. Excited, Drake jumped to his feet. “I will be right back. I’m going to find my wife.”

  Praying her husband hadn’t caught her snooping, Sasha whirled around and ran through the front door, curtailing her steps at the base of the walkway. She then turned around and pretended as if she were just making her way to the guesthouse. Right in the nick of time, she saw Drake coming through the door, all smiles. His ruddy complexion seemed to glow even more in the morning sun, which almost made Sasha want to forget about telling her husband the truth about her and Levi. But she knew she had to.

  “Darling, I have a surprise for you,” he said, putting an arm around her. “Can you stop what you’re doing for about an hour and accompany me somewhere?”

  Sasha put on her best face, despite her stomach coiling with discomfort. “Honey, you know I love surprises, but I have loads and loads of clothes to wash. I promised Hunter that by the time she returned from Tampa, I’d have the laundry completed.”

  “It’s only for an hour,” Drake insisted. “And if you really need assistance, I’ll help you when we get back. But this is very important to me – to us…It has much to do with how we’re going to spend the rest of our lives.”

  As if on cue, the realtor stepped through the front door, a leather bag swinging in one hand. “I take it that we are ready to go?” he said to the young couple.

  “Sasha,” Drake said, gesturing to the realtor, “I want you to meet Mr. Sanchez, a real estate agent who is employed with Devin Cay’s companies of realtors. He is going to show us a few homes – and hopefully by the end of the tour one of them will be ours.”

  Oh Drake, you are moving too fast. The money has barely been in your account 48 hours and you’re already splurging more than a quarter of it. I would have been fine living here with Hunter for a few more months… Sasha shook the hand of the realtor before she turned her inquiring gaze back to her husband. “I should have known you were up to something when you didn’t join me in the kitchen for breakfast.”

  Drake grinned. “Well, you said you were going to sort out the laundry and I didn’t want to get in the way of that. Besides, it’s not easy to surprise you. I instructed Mr. Sanchez on how to find the guesthouse from the side gate…”

  Sasha’s cell phone was locked in her right palm when she felt it vibrating, signaling the arrival of a text or email message. She waited for the men to walk ahead of her before she subtly turned away to check her phone. It was another message from Anonymous_Eyes. Regardless of her suspicion of who was behind the threats, Sasha’s heart slammed against her chest. There was a link beneath the message, instructing her to click on it:

  Tick tock, tick tock…lol…you better hurry, because your time is quickly running out. Eight hours exactly to ensure Levi shows up at the game tonight. But since you haven’t responded to me as yet, I can only assume you weren’t able to contact him….maybe you need something to nudge you in the right direction. Click on the link below and I’m certain it will put some fire in your bosom.

  “Honey! We’re waiting on you…”

  The sudden intrusion of Drake’s voice nearly caused Sasha to drop her phone on the pavement. She took in a deep breath and caught up with her husband’s strides. She dared not click on the link now, fearing the clip would be worse than the first one she’d received only hours before. She made up in her mind that as soon as they returned from their house tour, she would sit down and empty her soul to Drake – even if it meant the end of their marriage. She did not intend on letting a sixteen-year-old boy control her future.

  Chapter Four

  A pregnant woman could be a miserable woman, especially when it came down to relieving her bladder. It had only been five minutes since Levi and Yasmine left his house and she was already complaining that she needed to use the bathroom again. L
evi swung into the parking lot of a gas station and turned his incredulous gaze in Yasmine’s direction.

  “How is it possible,” he asked her, “that you are ready to go again? This is your third time in twenty minutes. We keep this up, baby girl and we’ll never make it to the JP in time.”

  Yasmine pouted her lips, the first signs of swelling showing in her nose. “You see? This is what I was trying to warn you about.”

  “What’s this about now? All I said was –”

  “Don’t worry about it, Levi. Forget I said it.”

  “Come on, now. Whatever happened to the promise of being open with each other? Just tell me what’s bothering you.” When Yasmine didn’t respond, Levi touched her arm in a comforting manner. “What is it?”

  “I knew you would soon get tired of me and this baby, but you are too much of a gentlemen to say so.” She turned away from him. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to get married – at least not today…you’re not ready.”

  “Where’s this coming from? Of course I’m ready…and we are getting married today –”

  “I don’t think so, Levi.”

  “I’m not taking no for an answer,” Levi insisted.

  “Don’t treat me as if I don’t have a choice in the matter.”

  “Please tell me that you’re not upset because I made a joke about you going to the bathroom too often.”

  Yasmine suddenly gripped the area between her legs as if Levi had reminded her of the reason why they’d taken a detour. “I’m about to pee a river on your car seat,” she told him. “Hold that thought until I get back.”

  She frantically pushed open the passenger door and hobbled quickly through a glass entrance. Levi couldn’t help the grin that pulled his full lips to the side. This whimsical part of Yasmine’s personality was something one either loved or hated. She mistrusted her feelings too much, especially about his level of interest in her. Granted, a woman who’d been abused repeatedly by her stepfather since she was fourteen and then ended up getting pregnant by him would naturally question the true intention of any man who wished to marry her. But Levi thought after almost four months of showing Yasmine that he hadn’t any qualms about raising another man’s child as his own, she would have gotten over her reservations by now.

 

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