Chasing Perfection Vol. 4

by M. S. Parker

  My stomach lurched and I fought back the urge to vomit. I hadn’t eaten anything yet this morning and I was glad that I hadn’t. I was pretty sure it would’ve made a re-appearance.

  I closed my eyes for a moment and focused on breathing. I was a lawyer, I reminded myself. I might not have really practiced law in the past year and I might’ve specialized in divorces, but I still had that lawyer mind-set. Evidence. Proof. I couldn’t jump to conclusions just because of how things looked.

  I thought back to what had happened when DeVon had made an assumption based on how things had looked. Based on innuendos over a meal, he’d thought I was going to Carter Bilson’s house to sleep with him in order to get a couple clients to read for a movie. When he’d arrived at the director’s house, I’d answered the door in a robe, hair wet from a shower. All of the evidence had pointed towards the logical conclusion that I’d fucked Bilson, when in reality, I’d gotten into a car accident, called Bilson to pick me up because I’d been pissed at DeVon, and had taken a shower at the director’s house to clean up. Bilson had propositioned me, but I’d turned him down. Of course, on the surface, it hadn’t looked that way.

  For all I knew, the boy was DeVon’s nephew and the woman was his brother Franco’s ex. After all, I’d slept with Franco back in New York, so he obviously liked curvier brunettes, too. Or she could be some random woman accusing one of our clients of something. There were a plethora of possibilities and I didn’t have proof to support or disprove any of them.

  I opened my eyes and pulled out my phone. I peeked around the tree and saw that the woman was laughing, her hand on DeVon’s chest. I couldn’t see his face, but his body looked stiff, which I took to mean he wasn’t appreciating the affection. That was good. I still didn’t like the woman, whoever she was, but I was less suspicious that DeVon was sleeping with her. If anything, he appeared to be more interested in the boy than the woman.

  I snapped a couple pictures of the woman and put my phone back in my pocket. I’d teased Carrie about how she’d gone from a lawyer to a private investigator over the last year-and-a-half as she’d started looking into the whole sex trafficking industry, but I was going to do the same. Well, not for something as noble as my friend. No, I was going to find out who this woman was and how she was connected to DeVon. And I knew just the place to start.

  I headed over to the precinct a few blocks over. About six months ago, one of Mirage’s clients had gotten arrested for public intoxication and resisting arrest. I’d gone to the station and spoken with the arresting officer. I’d been honest and explained how Taylor, a young man I knew well, had just found out that his nineteen-year-old brother had been killed in action overseas earlier that day. I hadn’t asked for the charges to be dropped, just that the officer take the circumstances into consideration when determining the next step. Officer Purdue had voided the arrest and let Taylor go. Since then, Officer Purdue and I had become, while not exactly friends, buddies. He kept me informed of any problems with Mirage clients as they happened and I never asked for special treatment. I also helped talk his daughter into staying in law school instead of dropping out to pursue a career in acting by promising her that if she passed the bar, Mirage would represent her should she still want to be an actress.

  Today, I was going to ask for a real favor.

  Officer Purdue was a tough-looking, heavy-set man with the kind of face that most people wouldn’t remember. He was also much smarter than people gave him credit for, which was probably why he was so good at his job. He took advantage of the fact that most people thought he was of average intelligence and usually ended up showing them up.

  It took me a couple minutes to track him down, but when I did, he gave me a warm smile and invited me to have a seat while he did some paperwork.

  “How’s Raina doing?” I asked. I was itching to get to the real reason why I was here, but I wasn’t going to be rude. Besides, if it hadn’t been for the current situation, I would’ve been genuinely interested in his daughter’s progress at Columbia.

  “Made the Dean’s List last semester,” he said. “And she took your advice and went down to see your friend about putting in some volunteer hours.”

  I’d actually known that. Carrie had told me she’d hired Raina and that things were going well. I was glad. Raina had the talent to be an actress but I wasn’t sure she had the right temperament.

  “What about you?” he asked as he moved on to a new stack of forms. “I’ve been hearing rumors that something’s been going on at Mirage.”

  “Really?” I sat forward, momentarily distracted from my own problem.

  “A couple hookers we brought in last night said they saw someone who looked a lot like Landon Sully threatening Garrison Mayflower. Maybe even assaulting him.”

  Shit. I hadn’t realized anyone had seen what had happened at the motel.

  “Not that I could blame Sully if that were true,” Officer Purdue continued. “Mayflower’s a cockroach. Puts shit out there and then hides behind the Constitution like calling himself a reporter gives him the excuse to ruin people’s lives or put someone in danger.”

  There was no love lost between Mayflower and the LAPD. Last year, he’d published a piece about police brutality that had been based on an unfounded rumor, had refused to disclose his source and kept writing about how he was being harassed for writing the truth. Two cops were killed because of the article and, when an investigation revealed that Mayflower’s source had been lying through her teeth, there had been no retraction or apology.

  “Are you going to be investigating the accusations?” I asked. I knew what the most likely answer was, but I wouldn’t relax until I heard it from Purdue himself.

  “Mayflower hasn’t come in to file charges,” Officer Purdue said. “Probably knows we wouldn’t take him very seriously if he did.” He glanced at me. “Still, you might want to let Sully know that it’s possible the hookers will say something to someone about what they saw.”

  “Thanks for the head’s up,” I said. With Landon coming out soon, we’d probably have to look out for people trying to cash in and a pair of hookers were a likely bet to try to do just that.

  “I’m guessing you didn’t come here just to shoot the breeze with me,” Purdue said.

  “No, I didn’t.” I took my phone out of my pocket and pulled up the pictures I’d taken. “I need to talk with our legal department if she’s accusing the company of something.” I paused, and then added, “And if it’s personal, I need to know that, too.”

  Officer Purdue didn’t ask me why I wasn’t asking DeVon about the woman, and I was grateful. His discretion was another reason why I liked him.

  “Send me the pictures,” he said. “I’ll run her, but I can’t make any promises.”

  “I know,” I said. “But I’d rather have you doing this instead of bringing someone in to investigate and not knowing if I can trust them.”

  “I’m assuming you want me to call you directly with the results,” he said.

  I nodded. “That would be great. Anything you can find. Name. Where she’s from. If she has any prior connection to Mirage. Any legal issues I should know about.” I stood.

  “I’ll do that.” Officer Purdue stood as well. He held out his hand and I shook it. “Take care of yourself, Krissy.”

  “You too,” I said. “Be safe.”

  As I left the station, I debated whether or not I wanted to go home or back to the office. The responsible side of me won out and I headed to Mirage, though I did make a pit stop first. There was something I needed to get first. When I arrived at work, unsurprisingly, DeVon wasn’t there. I gave Tracy a smile when I passed and then retreated to my office to work on drafting Mirage’s official press release regarding Landon’s coming out article. We had to maintain the perfect balance of supportive without seeming like we were exploiting his decision.

  It took me a while to get focused, but once I did, I was able to work straight through until it was time to go home. As I saved
the file, I was at least satisfied that I’d accomplished something good today. The press release was probably the best thing I’d ever written because I’d gone over every individual word half a dozen times to make sure it was perfect.

  As I drove home, however, thoughts of Landon and the press release slipped away and all I could think about was how things were going to play out with DeVon when he got home. There was a lot we needed to talk about, not the least of which was what was going on with him. The restlessness I’d felt before returned when I saw that he wasn’t already there. Not a surprise since he’d been coming home late every night since we’d gotten back from New York, but it didn’t irritate me any less, especially considering the circumstances. Of course, since I was irritated, I didn’t want to eat and that made me queasy again, which, in turn, turned irritation into annoyance. By the time the front door opened and DeVon walked in, I was well into frustrated and heading straight towards pissed. Still, I kept myself calm. DeVon and I were both passionate enough people that things could get intense if we didn’t keep ourselves in check.

  “You’re still up.” He looked tired.

  “I am,” I leaned against the arm of the chair. “And you’re home late.”

  “I am,” he repeated. He tossed his keys onto the kitchen table. “I already ate dinner so I hope you didn’t hold it for me.”

  “No,” I said tersely. “I didn’t. I just feel like I haven’t seen you since we got back from New York.”

  “I’ve been working.” He pulled a beer out of the refrigerator. “We were gone for a few days, and then you were sick.”

  My mouth flattened into a line. He was seriously going to throw that in my face? Especially now? “Seems like you’ve been doing a lot of out-of-office work.”

  His face took on that blank expression I hated so much. “A lot of field work lately.”

  I made a non-committal noise and continued, “I asked Melissa, but she said she wasn’t sure where you were going.”

  “You asked Melissa about what I was doing?” His eyes flashed.

  “Well, considering you haven’t been around to ask, I had to go somewhere.” I could hear an edge wanting to come into my voice. I held up a hand and took a moment to calm myself. “You weren’t at the office today. What were you working on?”

  He took a long drink of his beer and looked over my head. “I’ve been trying to get something on Garrison Mayflower to fix this whole Landon situation.”

  I wasn’t sure if it was the direct lie to my face that did it or the fact that he obviously hadn’t been paying attention to anything I’d been saying for the past week, but I snapped.

  “Bullshit!”

  His eyes flicked down to my face and they were flat, expressionless.

  I marched over to him and poked him in the chest with my finger. “That is such a fucking load of bullshit! The Landon ‘situation’ has been resolved. And if you’d been around or listened to me, you’d know that. The fact that you can’t even come up with a fucking decent lie...” My voice trailed off. “You know what, I feel like shit and I’m not going to do this now. I’m going to bed. Sleep in the fucking guest room because I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

  I turned to stomp off when he said something that turned my blood to ice.

  “It’s my fucking bedroom.”

  “Fine.” I didn’t turn to look at him, unsure if I’d start crying or slap him. I wanted to do both. “I’ll sleep in the guest room. I suppose that’s appropriate since that’s where you generally make your women sleep, right?”

  The tears were burning at my eyelids and I hurried off before they could spill over. I could barely swallow around the lump in my throat as I slammed the door behind me. I sank to the floor and buried my face in my hands, bursting into tears for the second time in two days. I sat there for an hour and he never came to see if I was okay. Something had broken between us and I didn’t know what it was or why it had happened, only that if we didn’t fix it, soon we wouldn’t be able to. And I couldn’t bear to think about what would happen if I lost DeVon now.

  Chapter 14

  DeVon

  The moment I saw that Krissy was still awake, I knew I was fucked. The past week, she’d been wrapped up in the whole Landon thing and not feeling well, so I’d been able to avoid the issue as I tried to figure out what I wanted to do. I’d always intended to tell her, but things had gotten more complicated today after I met Emmett.

  I’d been thinking about him and the ultimatum Sasha had set when I’d walked into the house and seen that the shit was about to hit the fan. I’d tried to be vague, hoping Krissy would accept my flimsy excuses, but I hadn’t been surprised that hadn’t worked. Then she’d asked specifically about today and the first thing that had popped into my head had been to act like I had been trying to help her with the Landon issue.

  She’d exploded and I knew I’d royally fucked myself when she made it perfectly clear that she hadn’t been fooled at all by my claims of ‘working late.’ Then she’d told me to sleep in the guest room and I’d said the stupidest thing to ever come out of my mouth. I didn’t even know why I said it, only that it had been something that the old me would’ve said. The me I’d been before I’d fallen in love. The one who’d been with Sasha and hundreds of other women. Since Krissy had moved in, I’d never really thought about the house as ‘mine’ but ‘ours.’ Everything had become ‘ours.’

  As she slammed the guest room door, I let out a stream of curses in English and Italian, and slammed my hand down on the counter. What the hell had I been thinking? I drained the rest of my beer and then started looking through the cabinets for something stronger. Had I subconsciously been trying to sabotage what Krissy and I had so I wouldn’t need to make a decision?

  My thoughts involuntarily went back to earlier today when I’d met Sasha and Emmett in Pan Pacific Park. She’d been overly friendly and flirtatious, but I’d kept my distance, hoping to make it clear that I wasn’t interested in her, just Emmett.

  He was a sweet boy. Tall for his age, with thick black hair and green eyes. I couldn’t really see myself or Sasha in him, but neither Franco nor I had looked more like one parent than the other. The timeline was accurate, so unless Sasha was lying about her lovers around that same period, Emmett was my son. I hadn’t introduced myself as his father, though. I wanted to talk to him a bit first, get a feel for how he’d take the news.

  We’d had a good conversation, but Sasha had kept butting in, making comments here and there about how the three of us were going to be a family. She’d also started to hang on me, wrapping her arm around mine, like we were some sort of couple in the park with our son. When I’d finally untangled myself from her and taken a step back, I’d seen a glimpse of unstable Sasha again. She’d sent Emmett off to play again and told me we’d needed to talk.

  She’d laid it out for me then and I’d seen that she hadn’t come back to get money from me. She and Emmett were a package deal. I didn’t get to have a relationship with him and not have one with her...on her terms. She didn’t want to be amicable exes or even friends. She wanted me back as a lover and, in the very near future, a husband. We three would be a family.

  I’d told her that I was in love with someone else, that Krissy was the only person I wanted in my life and that she and I had been together for almost a year. Sasha hadn’t been happy with that, but she’d stayed in control. She’d made it simple at that point. I would have to choose between Emmett and Krissy. If I didn’t give Krissy up, I wouldn’t be allowed to be a part of my son’s life.

  I’d automatically countered with a legal dispute. I had the money to do it and I knew she didn’t. I’d told her that I’d get a DNA test to prove paternity and then sue for full custody. I’d reminded her that I had friends in high places and she’d be lucky if she managed to get joint custody.

  The real Sasha, the one that hid behind the pretty face and smile, had come out then. She’d told me that if I went anywhere near a lawyer or courtroom, s
he’d take Emmett and run. I’d never see my son again. Even though I didn’t know the boy that well and I didn’t have the scientific proof that he was mine, I couldn’t, in all good conscience, leave a child with someone like Sasha. Who knew what kind of damage she’d inflicted on him already.

  That meant I was faced with an impossible choice. Abandon my son to his psychotic mother or lose the only woman I’d ever really loved. Both options tore at my heart and I didn’t know what to do.

  I couldn’t not be a part of Emmett’s life now that I knew about him. I’d never thought about having kids, not seriously anyway. Growing up, Franco had always been the one we’d all assumed would get married and have kids. He was a ladies’ man – that ran in the family – but he had always loved kids and had never balked at the idea of getting married. I was the one who was supposed to spend my life hopping from woman to woman, never settling down. The one who’d be the eternal bachelor. Even when I’d gotten engaged to Haley, I’d never really been able to see myself as a husband. And I’d never even considered kids. Sure, she’d mentioned them from time to time and I’d never said no, but my heart hadn’t ever been in it. It hit me, for the first time ever, that maybe Haley had known all along that a family wasn’t in the cards for me. She could’ve found a better way to tell me, but I could see now how it would’ve been inevitable.

  I had no idea how to be a parent, but I’d taught myself a lot over the years, and I could learn how to do this, too. I’d been fortunate enough to grow up with a great father, and I’d known too many men who were horrible ones. I couldn’t be anything less than the kind of man my father had raised me to be.

  But to be that man, to be a father to Emmett, I’d have to let go of the person who made me a better man. The thought of losing Krissy was the most excruciating thing I’d experienced since the death of my mother, and I knew that if it hurt this badly just to consider it, the actual action would be so much worse.

  I found the tequila tucked away in a back corner and drank a quarter of it in one gulp. It burned and I almost coughed. I took another swig and then headed for the bedroom. Our bedroom. My bedroom. I looked at the closed guest room door as I passed but didn’t stop. I couldn’t tell her tonight. I didn’t know how I’d ever tell her. How do you tell someone that you love them more than your own life, but that you have to give them up because it’s the right thing to do?