Sharp Curves Ahead

by Allison Hobbs

She loved to eat and was incapable of sticking to a restrictive diet. Nevertheless, she’d be damned if she was going to remain fat while Bailee meditated her way to a skinny body. Oh, hell no! It was time to get serious about weight loss surgery. It was clear that the only way she’d ever be thin was to allow a surgeon to use his knife to whittle her stomach down.

  Chapter 15

  Bailee arrived home and Trent wasn’t there. Despite his absence, the condo felt small, constricting. It had been their love nest for the past ten years, and now the place that had once been her sanctuary seemed more like a prison cell. She wished she could leave her wrecked marriage behind, pack her bags, and go away to an undisclosed destination. But she couldn’t set off on her journey of self-discovery without first attending to a few important matters.

  The first thing on her list was to kick Trent out. Not that he’d care, but it would feel good to say the words, get the fuck out!

  She spent hours online looking for a divorce attorney. Of course, she could have handed the matter over to Giselle, but Bailee wanted to keep her divorce private until it was final. She was a big girl and didn’t need her mother all up in her business.

  Bailee thought about Trent huddled near Giselle at the party and was still baffled by her mother’s overly intimate response to him. Maybe too much liquor had caused Giselle to become uninhibited and too touchy-feely with Trent. Not wanting to embarrass her mother by bringing up her uncharacteristic conduct, Bailee decided not to mention it.

  When Sunday turned into Monday morning, and Trent still hadn’t come home, Bailee called in sick at work. She wanted to be home when Trent arrived, so that she could see the look of shock on his face when she told him she wanted a divorce. An opportunist like Trent would remain locked in a loveless marriage forever simply because the scandal of a divorce might stand in the way of a promotion at work.

  She considered calling his job to find out if he’d arrived for work but couldn’t bring herself to. She didn’t want anyone to misjudge her intentions and inaccurately think she was checking up on him.

  Finally, around noon, while Bailee stood in front of the sink rinsing out a coffee mug, Trent strode through the front door. Prepared to confront him, she whirled around, but he swept past the kitchen and made long strides toward the guest bedroom without giving her as much as a glance.

  Indignant over his unremitting bad attitude, she was also struck by his stylish appearance when he dashed past her. He was wearing clothing she’d never seen before: a Canada Goose jacket, new black leather zip boots, and a fur hat with flaps. Trent never wore hats, no matter how cold the temperature.

  His new winter attire looked like it cost outrageous sums, much more money than he’d typically spend on clothes. His boots alone had to have cost at least five hundred dollars. And the jacket was definitely a grand.

  What was going on? It was out of character for Trent to make sudden and expensive purchases. By no means was he a slouch when it came to his appearance, but he was a bargain shopper, not the kind of man who would spend several thousand dollars on a trendy winter outfit.

  His entire identity seemed to be changing and she wondered if her husband had simply lost his mind.

  From the guest room, she heard drawers opening and banging shut. The sound of hangers rattled in the closet. Curious, Bailee made her way down the hall and was stunned to discover Trent flinging clothing into several pieces of luggage.

  “Where’s my passport?” he grumbled, continuing to pack and not even bothering to glance at her.

  She felt sucker-punched and was too shocked to respond. He was planning a trip somewhere that required a passport, and in doing so, was robbing her of the opportunity of kicking him out.

  Not wanting him to know that he’d gotten to her, she went to her bedroom, retrieved his passport from a drawer, and flung it on the bed with no questions asked.

  Feigning nonchalance, Bailee sauntered out of the bedroom and returned to the kitchen. Perplexed, she stood in the middle of the floor wringing her hands.

  Where the hell is he going? Surely, there’s too much work piled up at his firm for him to take a spur-of-the-moment vacation.

  Needing to occupy herself, she stood in front of the counter and began rearranging the coffee pods in the K-cup carousel.

  With exaggerated swagger, Trent strolled into the kitchen carrying his bags. From the corner of her eye, Bailee could see that his body language was confrontational.

  She didn’t turn around.

  “You realize our marriage is over, right? I can’t play this game any longer,” Trent announced. “I’ll be back in two weeks to clear out my things.”

  Stunned and sensing that Trent was about to drop an even bigger bombshell, her hand, which hovered over the coffee pods, became suspended in midair.

  “Oh, yeah,” Trent added ominously. “Fuck that stupid prenuptial agreement you made me sign; I’m going where the real money is. All this time…all this damn time, I’ve been with the wrong one,” he said with spiteful laughter.

  She frowned perplexedly. “What are you saying, Trent?”

  “I’m saying that from now on, I’ll be the one who pulls the purse strings. And since I’ll be in control of the money, you might as well get accustomed to calling me Daddy.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” she asked with mounting suspicion.

  With a malicious chuckle, Trent walked out and slammed the door.

  On shaky legs, she made her way to the living room, retrieved her phone, and called Giselle. “Mom, what’s going on?”

  “Nothing, dear. Why do you ask?”

  “Trent packed his bags. He said he’s taking a vacation, and he hinted that there’s something going on between you two. Do you have something to tell me?” Fearing Giselle’s response, Bailee’s stomach tightened into a knot.

  “No, why would I?”

  “Mom, please. Be honest.”

  There was a lengthy pause that spoke volumes, and Bailee pressed a hand against her heart.

  “Actually, I’m, uh, traveling to St. Croix and when, uh, Trent mentioned that he’d like to make some connections in the Caribbean, I invited him along,” Giselle said in faltering speech. “Didn’t he clear the trip with you?”

  “Clear it with me? Mom, do you hear yourself? My husband is accompanying you on a vacation, and you’re acting like it’s completely normal. What exactly is going on with you and Trent?” Bailee shrieked.

  Giselle went briefly silent, then she spoke in carefully measured tones. “Listen, Bailee. Neither of us wanted to hurt you, but the heart wants what it wants. You can’t help who you love.”

  “Love?” Bailee’s voice was shrill. “A few days ago, you couldn’t stand Trent. Now your heart suddenly wants him? Oh, my God; this is too much for me,” she said, frantically fanning herself as if the flurries of air would help her to remain on her feet and continue breathing.

  “I told Trent not to tell you because I knew you were going to overreact.”

  “Are you nuts?” Bailee screamed. “My mother and my husband are having an affair, and I’m supposed to stay calm?” She drew in a long breath and released it, forcing herself to calm down. “How long have you two been going behind my back, Mom?”

  “It’s only been a little over a month—a very intense and passionate month. And I’ve discovered that what Trent and I have is really sacred.”

  “There’s nothing sacred about it! What you have is immoral and disgusting,” Bailee shouted.

  “Calm down, sweetheart,” Giselle said gently. “Listen, I’m a little unsure as to why you’re so upset. Trent said that you two don’t even share the same bedroom anymore. He said the marriage has been over for quite a while. He told me that you’re not happy with him and he’s miserable with you.”

  Bailee flinched. The way Giselle emphasized the word, miserable, was like a hot slap across Bailee’s face.

  “When you got physical with him in front of all of your distinguished guests, it was
proof that he’s been telling the truth. Frankly, it seems to me that I’m doing you a favor by taking Trent off your hands.”

  “Do you hear yourself—do you realize how deranged you sound? What is wrong with you? You were always a cold person, but you’re still my mother and I would have never dreamed you’d deliberately hurt me like this. Are you going through some sort of midlife crisis, like menopause? Or are you just a heartless bitch?”

  “There’s no reason to make slurs. I realize that having such a youthful and attractive mother hasn’t been easy on you, and I do sympathize, dear,” Giselle said calmly, as if she hadn’t stuck a knife in her daughter’s heart. “I also realize that getting accustomed to Trent and me being together as a couple is a lot to process, but there’s no excuse for you to insult me. Maybe you should take an aspirin and lie down. I’m sure you’ll feel much better after a nap.”

  “A fucking nap won’t make me feel better.” Bailee yelled so loud, she could feel a vein protruding from her forehead, and she feared she might burst a blood vessel. Lowering her tone, she asked wearily, “How am I supposed to deal with something like this and not go crazy?”

  “You’ll be fine, sweetheart. Listen, if you think it will help, we can discuss this at length when I get back from St. Croix. We can have dinner at Romello’s. You love Romello’s steaks, don’t you?”

  Oh, my God, this is insane. My narcissistic mother steals my husband and tries to placate me with an expensive steak.

  Hurt and offended by her mother’s profound lack of remorse and warped sense of reasoning, Bailee gave a soft cry of distress and disconnected the call.

  She paced the floor until she felt as if her legs were about to give out. Finally, she collapsed into Trent’s reclining chair.

  Slumped over in anguish, Bailee recollected the time of Trent’s personality change. A month ago, which was approximately the same time he’d begun his scandalous affair with Giselle.

  She squeezed back tears as she pictured Trent and Giselle frolicking together in St. Croix. It was completely humiliating for Trent to trade her in for her youthful-looking, but nevertheless, middle-aged mother.

  Clearly, Trent was only using Giselle for her money, but that realization did not ease Bailee’s pain.

  * * *

  Images of Giselle and Trent continually scrolled through Bailee’s mind. She pictured them promenading through the airport, holding hands, kissing, feeding each other snacks, and engaging in all manner of public displays of affection. Most likely they had opulent accommodations in St. Croix with a private beach where Giselle could sunbathe nude while Trent slathered her toned body with sunscreen.

  The visuals that played in Bailee’s mind were painful. To rid herself of the emotional harassment, she took two Ambiens, and then ended up sleeping for thirteen hours straight. She woke up in her darkened bedroom feeling groggy and disoriented.

  Remembering the betrayal brought out an anguished moan and a pounding headache.

  Additionally, she was ravenous.

  She clicked on the bedside lamp and noted the time. It was six in the evening and she wanted dinner and dessert, but she had no energy to cook. Nor did she want to order any cheap takeout. She wanted a good quality meal, but didn’t want to sit in a restaurant and dine alone.

  No doubt, Jayla would be willing to join her for a meal, but she wasn’t ready to share the news of the heinous betrayal by the two people in the world she should have been able to trust the most.

  Without bathing or brushing her teeth, Bailee threw on a pair of sweatpants, a bulky sweater, and a heavy coat. Car keys in hand, she ventured out into the cold night in search of food.

  In the car, a song came on the radio that reminded her of her college days with Trent and, without warning, the tears began to flow. Sniffling as she drove, she told herself that along with a hot meal, two big slices of cheesecake would make her feel better.

  Using her hands-free application, she called ahead to the Cheesecake Factory and ordered two appetizers, an entrée, and two slices of cheesecake. Then she changed her mind. Two slices weren’t enough; she needed a whole Chocolate Hazelnut Crunch cheesecake to feel satisfied.

  After the friendly voice on the other end of the phone gave her a number for pickup, she felt the tension begin to melt away. She pressed down on the accelerator, eager for the comfort that food provided. Food had always been a dependable companion and had never let her down.

  Food loved her even if her own mother and husband didn’t.

  Chapter 16

  Bailee assumed that work would take her mind off her problems, and so after taking a few days off, she returned.

  “Oh, I wasn’t expecting you today,” Macy said when Bailee arrived at the office. “Mr. Dunham called a meeting. It’s in the conference room and it starts in ten minutes. I’ll call his assistant and let her know that you’ll be attending the meeting, after all,” Macy added.

  Bailee’s brows drew together. “What’s the meeting about?”

  Macy squinted down at handwritten notes. “It focuses on accounting, risk, and regulatory issues.”

  For fuck’s sake! The meeting would be a snooze fest, but she couldn’t dodge it. Although she really didn’t feel like interacting with her boss, Fred Dunham, or any of the other banking executives, she had no choice. Even though she’d held her upper-management position for two years and had always done superb work, she felt like she constantly had to prove herself.

  Fred and her colleagues were a grim bunch of uptight, older white men and they all held the belief that Bailee’s age, race, and gender should have disqualified her from sitting at the same table with them.

  Having to deal with their condescending attitudes often required that Bailee throw herself into warrior mode, and usually, she was ready for their persnickety old asses.

  But not today.

  She had intended to use work as therapy and wasn’t in the mood for putting on her armor and wielding a sword. It had been her hope to spend the day working in the quiet solitude of her office, allowing lists of numbers and boring reports to numb her brain.

  In her office, she took a few moments to gaze out the window and her mind drifted to Giselle and Trent. What were they doing in that moment? Breakfast on an oceanfront terrace or were they leisurely making love? Trent always woke up with a hard-on and with no reason to hurry out of bed, he was probably pressed against Giselle right now…

  Forcing away the grotesque imagery of her mother and husband thrashing around in bed, Bailee bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood.

  From a desk drawer, she retrieved the thick folder that contained the quarterly report. Report in hand and with her chin up, she made her way to the conference room.

  As she stood outside the double-frosted doors of the conference room, to her dismay, she could see the blurry outlines of her colleagues and it was apparent that the meeting was already in full swing.

  Fred Dunham was on his feet, speaking to the executives, when Bailee crept inside the room, mouthing apologies.

  With condemnation in their bleary eyes, the team of grim reapers (as Bailee referred to them in her mind) turned their gazes upon her. Feeling like a party crasher, Bailee gave the men a weak smile and attempted to quietly pull out a chair. As luck would have it, the legs of the chair scraped against the polished floor and squealed in protest, causing her to cringe and prompting her colleagues to roll their eyes heavenward.

  Fred drew in an impatient breath, ran a hand down his tie, and then resumed speaking to the team. “As the fabric of banking continues to evolve and new technology players emerge in the marketplace, the GroTech Annual Summit will bring together senior executives from across the financial industry to shine a light on what is actually generating top line growth and bottom line profits through partnerships, collaborations, and investments.” He gazed in Bailee’s direction. “Bailee has been compiling a list of stand-out partnerships between our bank and GroTech companies and she can bring us up to speed. Bailee,
the floor is all yours.”

  Bailee’s mouth gaped open and she stared at Fred with a panicked look in her eyes. There was a long, awkward pause as she frantically rustled through the pages of the quarterly report.

  Shit, shit, shit! Macy had given her the wrong information and Bailee had nothing to contribute because she’d only recently begun working on the Annual Summit.

  Normally, she would have been able to easily bullshit her way out of any disastrous situation she found herself in. She’d throw out some names and numbers and fake it until she could make it, but today she felt completely exposed as unprepared and unprofessional.

  She felt like a token African American who had only been able to climb up the ranks of the corporate ladder due to affirmative action policies. It wasn’t true, however. In reality, she’d been hired and promoted based on merit, but instead of being quick on her feet, she began to visibly shudder.

  Her teeth clattered together as she attempted to formulate a sentence.

  Then tears sprang to her eyes, and in the next instance, she was sobbing openly. She apologized for her meltdown, but couldn’t hold back the flow of tears.

  Agony. Rage. Grief. Desolation. Those emotions erupted from her in awful gasping sobs, merging in waves so forceful, she could hardly catch her breath.

  It was excruciatingly painful to be treated with such disregard by the woman who had given birth to her and the man who had vowed to love her for better or worse. She’d hoped to keep her personal problems at home where they belonged, but this blunder at work had pushed her over the edge.

  Crying in the workplace was the kiss of death, and the men who sat on either side of Bailee slid their seats away from her, as if her condition might be contagious.

  In the next instant, she went from being apologetic to angrily pointing the finger of blame. “This is not my mistake,” Bailee yelled in frustration as she fiercely smacked the table with the quarterly report. “This is the work of my assistant, who would love to have my position,” she pointed out with maniacal laughter. “She told me we were discussing accounting, risk, and regulatory issues. Obviously, she lied to me. She set me up. This is a flagrant act of sabotage!”