by Cher Etan
It wasn’t helpful that they hadn’t discussed the incredible sex they’d had the night before. Granted, Christine was up early and puking her guts out which Max might have taken askance. Perhaps he thought she was disgusted by his behavior last night? She didn’t know how she felt about it, but it definitely wasn’t disgust. Or maybe he was disgusted…Maybe he needed to give her The Talk; the one where he reminded her that this was a marriage of convenience and she shouldn’t read too much into last night. Like she would. Obviously it was a booty call; inadvertent maybe but by now she knew how those worked. The guy appeared in your room in the middle of the night and he was gone by morning. Just like what had happened last night. She wasn’t dumb, maybe she was slow but she’d gotten it eventually with Rudy. She didn’t need a second lesson.
Christine finished changing and got on with her shift. She was on half day today because next week she’d be on night duty. She wondered if she should inform HR that she was pregnant…she wasn’t familiar with what the protocol was but she didn’t want to involve herself in situations that were dangerous to her child. Christine resolved to look those up as well because she wasn’t sure what was dangerous and what wasn’t.
“Hey Chris,” Fred Jones murmured to her as they passed each other on the stairs. “How’s tricks?”
Christine looked into his face to see if there was more to the greeting than just…greeting but couldn’t read much in his impassive face.
“Good, good. You?” she asks in return.
Fred shrugged, “Night shift man.”
Christine nodded because she knew how those could be sometimes; they could go from excruciatingly boring to reluctantly exciting. Christine was strongly in favor of the former. She walked on to her work station and got to work, dismissing all the things swirling in her head; for now.
*****
Max took her to a semi-fancy restaurant and explained to her that it has the widest menu of any place he’s been to in the city. So whatever she felt like eating, they’d probably find it. Christine was grateful because she’d been thinking about chicken nuggets all morning but also fried fish. She studied the menu and saw that they have both these items much to her delight, plus some baked potatoes, baby carrots and salad. She figured that would do…to start with.
“God, I’m going to weigh a ton by the time this kid is born,” she wailed.
“No you won’t because you’re on your feet all day and you’ll work it all off,” Max consoled, patting her hand.
“Yeah okay, we’ll go with that version,” Christine agreed. “Now I want to enjoy my food so how about you tell me why you brought me here so I can know?”
Max took a deep breath looking solemn. “I received a call from a lawyer this morning,” he said watching her.
“And?” she asked sipping on the water that had been placed on the table.
“And…he represents a couple of clients who know about our deal and are threatening to take it to the press unless we pay them off,” he finished.
Christine froze, looking up at him. “Who are these people?”
“He wouldn’t say. But he did give me enough detail for me to know that they are for real. They know about our deal.”
“Who do you think it is?” Christine asked, her heart speeding up. She has a very bad feeling about this.
Max shrugged. “I have no clue but I can get investigators on it.”
Christine thought hard. “Give me a day or two first before you do that. I might be able to get to the bottom of this without it getting messy.”
“Okay, if you think that’s best,” Max said.
Christine was surprised at his unprotesting capitulation but since it's what she wanted, she was not about to argue.
“Okay then,” she said with a nod.
The waiter brought the first course and she dug in.
*****
The tabloids were full of stories and conjecture about the mystery girl Max Lestrange was dating. She didn't remain a ‘mystery girl’ for long. Somebody spilled; her name, where she works…not much else so Christine guessed it's probably Leandra or someone else from the office. She was pissed about it but there was very little she could do. She was more taken aback at all the fake stories that now abound about her ‘relationship’ with Max. Everything from her age to her ethnicity was altered to fulfill whatever fantasies the tabloid wished to conjure up this week. In one story she was a stripper who Max met and was smitten with and she’s now his official mistress as if they’re living in eighteenth century England, in another she blackmailed him into being with her because she knew secrets about his past that he doesn’t wish to come out; in some she’s desperate to marry him for his money and is twisting his arm by trying to get pregnant – that one was uncomfortably close to the truth for comfort – so as to force him into matrimony. Christine felt like leaving town.
“Maybe we should put out a statement and explain what’s really going on,” she suggested to Max that night as they have dinner. Martha was still working as housekeeper because she refused to quit just because Christine is uncomfortable with the situation. She told her to deal with it; after all she’s been Max’ housekeeper for fifteen years without Christine finding it to be a problem. Max told her he’s giving her notice that she’s to move to head of housekeeping at Lestrange Enterprises by month’s end and she was annoyed until he mentioned that the salary is three times what she’s making. She decided she could probably live with that as long as Max wasn’t doing it just because he’s about to marry her granddaughter. He is…but he isn’t. He wanted to keep Martha close but he knew she couldn't be his housekeeper. Not when she’d be obliged to take orders from her granddaughter. It just would not do. And she refused to stop working and just retire in splendor as matriarch of their new family so what was a man to do?
*****
As soon as Christine was through with work, she dodged Leandra’s persistent invitations to go ‘have coffee’, as well as Mary Jane’s wanting to corner her to tell her all about the latest going on in her life with her mentally abusive yet apparently irresistible boyfriend. They broke up and made up almost on a weekly basis and Mary Jane seemed to think Christine wanted to know all about it. In truth, she couldn’t care less so when she saw MJ headed toward her she fished out her phone and called her cousin Sadie.
“Houston, we have a problem,” she said into the receiver.
“What is the mayday about?” Sadie wanted to know.
“Somebody be snitchin,” she said.
“About?” Sadie asked.
“About me and my situation.”
“Who they snitchin to?”
“Paps,” Christine said. “You need to call a meeting and find out who it was.”
“How do you know it's not me?” Sadie asked.
“Is it?” Christine asked.
“Nope.”
“Good, so you’ll call the meeting?”
“Just us girls or everyone?”
“Everyone who knows.”
“Okay for when?”
“It's urgent. If you can gather them tonight all the better. I’m headed to grandma’s.”
“I’ll get back to you.”
“Thanks Sadie.”
“Uh huh.”
*****
Sadie was as good as her word and she had everyone save Martha and Misha gathered in Martha’s living room by 8:30pm that night. She’d even managed to get Kevin and Cordelia to attend on the pretext that there was some money to be discussed; she was vague about it but she might have implied that Max was giving out checks to enable them to shop for the wedding. She’d thought about padding the lie with implications of a private jet to New York for the shopping spree but the prospect of money alone was enough to get Cordelia there so she figured that would do.
As soon as everyone gathered Christine stood up.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a problem,” she said looking at every face. Uncle Andrew lifted a brow at her. He had been expecting to be fed but
Martha wasn’t even home yet.
“What problem?” Uncle Carl asked.
“Somebody is trying to extort money out of Max otherwise they go to the press and tell them about us. Now the thing is not many people know about our deal, and the majority of them are in this room,” Christine said looking around the room and bracing herself for outrage.
“And you think maybe somebody in this room is the culprit?” Uncle Carl asked his eyes on Cordelia.
“I think it’s a distinct possibility, yes,” Christine said also looking toward Cordelia with narrowed eyes.
“Who would want to do that?” Cordelia asked. “Are you saying one of your cousins is maybe jealous of you?”
Christine looked toward Sadie, Angela and Aisha, grouped together on the sofa. They looked back at her as if in challenge. She shook her head.
“I don’t think it was them,” she said and Angela beamed at her while Aisha and Sadie merely nodded.
“Then who?” Kevin demanded in an aggressive tone.
Christine said nothing for a while.
“Nothing irrevocable has happened yet. There is still time to change your minds.”
She caught and held each and every one’s eye trying to see who would flinch. Nobody did, but then her mother’s glance slid away from her after a second of eye contact. She made as if to pick a non-existent piece of lint from her skirt and wouldn’t look at Christine again. Christine sighed in tired resignation. It was always something with her mother; she really wished sometimes that she could just cut Cordelia loose and forget she ever existed. But then Cordelia was still her mother and try as Christine might she still loved her and still wanted her mother to be part of her life. It was stupid and it was probably going to get her in deep shit one day; in fact that day might be here right now but…blood was blood.
“Mother? Do you have anything you’d like to say to me?” she asked trying to still the tremble in her voice. Cordelia shook her head but didn’t look up.
“Sis,” Uncle Andrew hissed.
“I haven’t done anything! Why y’all always pickin on me?” Cordelia shouted.
“Nobody’s pickin on you C. We just asked you a question and you jumpin down peoples’ throats and shit…”
Cordelia stood up. “I’m leavin,” she said, she bent over and pulled at Kevin. “Come on Kevin, lets go.”
Everyone watched them rush out like their hair was on fire and their tails were catching. Christine felt a knot in her chest, like a heaviness. It was there on and off every time she interacted with her mother. She always had hopes that never came to fruition. And now her mother had sicced lawyers onto her…er, she had no idea what to call Max; partner in crime? Fake husband? Marriage of convenience mate? Baby Daddy? She thought that last one might be the most accurate description.
“What now?” Sadie asked startling Christine out of her reverie.
Christine shrugged. “I have no idea. Uncle Andrew could you talk to her maybe? Make her see the error of her ways?”
“I've been talking to her. I love your mama like a sister but she is the messiest bitch I've ever known and she’s not going to change now. It was a mistake to tell her anything.”
“Yeah thanks for that input; not really helping with the situation,” Christine said miserably.
There was a strained silence for a few minutes.
“Pre-emptive strike,” Sadie said.
“What?” Christine replied.
“Release a statement to the public, telling them what’s really happening,” Sadie said.
Uncle Andrew was already shaking his head.
“Absolutely not; that would just open a whole new can of worms,” Christine said. Uncle Andrew nodded his head in agreement.
“So what then?” Sadie asked.
“Pay them off, one time only and make them sign an NDA.”
“Do you think they’ll stick to it?”
“We’ll emphasize to them that the penalty for talking would be compensation of twice the money they’re paid. Since I absolutely guarantee they won’t have it; they’ll have to keep their traps shut.”
“Unless they’re offered substantially more than twice what you pay them,” Aisha pointed out.
“Yeah, well that doesn’t stop them from experiencing jail time.”
“You would have her arrested? For real?” Angela asked.
“Yep,” Christine said though she wasn’t as confident as she tried to seem. Her mother was so complex. “God this sucks,” she exclaimed.
Uncle Carl came over to her and enveloped her in his arms.
“Don’t worry baby. It’ll be alright,” he said soothingly rubbing her back.
Just then her phone beeped. It was a text from Max.
Are you coming home?
She had clicked on the reply option before it occurred to her to wonder why he would care.
Not tonight.
She hit send and then turned back to her uncle and leaned into him.
“I’m gonna have to tell him. I’m gonna have to tell Max,” she said almost hyperventilating.
“Shhh,” Uncle Carl said.
The phone beeped again. Max again.
Why?
Christine frowned wondering at all this sudden interest.
I’m taking care of business.
She replied barely restraining herself from being rude. She stared at her phone waiting to see if he would reply and what he would say. She was startled when the phone rang. Beautiful loser permeated the room before Christine pressed answer.
“What?” she said into the receiver as her family watched her.
“Where are you?” he asked.
Christine opened her mouth to tell him how he wasn’t the boss of her when she remembered her audience. She put up a hand and murmured ‘excuse me’ before disappearing into the dining room.
“You’re not the boss of me Max,” she whispered into the phone.
“I’m concerned for you that’s all. Can I come pick you up? It's late and you need your rest.”
“I know what I need Max; and I’ll thank you to back off.”
“All your stuff is here. You’re moved in. This is your home. This is where you sleep. So where are you?”
Christine sighed in irritation. “I’m at gra’s house okay? Getting to the bottom of this snitch situation. Happy?”
It was Max' turn to sigh, “How about I come over, and help you out?”
“Thanks but I can manage.”
Max began to say something else but Christine wasn’t listening. “Listen,” she said over his voice, “I’m gonna sort this shit out and then imma spend the night here. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She could practically feel him wanting to protest but all he said was;
“Okay then.”
Chapter 9
Max was pacing. He didn’t want to be; it was late and he was tired and he needed his rest. Especially after last night. But here he was unable to rest, unable to sleep; pacing. It was annoying as hell because a few months ago, he was a free agent with nothing on his mind except gambling and sex; he’d had his money on Mayweather in that bout and he and Kendal were going to ‘take their relationship to the next level’. He wasn’t too bummed that the latter hadn’t happened but he had yet to collect his winnings from the former.
His life had been so much simpler then; he was coasting – escaping from the necessity to really grow up. Now he was confronted with his mortality, and was attempting to bring new life into the world. A wave of dizziness hit him at the thought and he staggered, aiming for the bed to avoid a face plant on the floor. He expected the dizziness to dissipate as he sat down, maybe a result of all the back and forth pacing but instead his vision blurred and he felt like the world was getting black around the edges. He had just enough presence of mind to hit the call button before he blacked out.
*****
When he came to, he found that he was in a moving vehicle going at speed. There was a mask over his face but as he tried to move his hand to remove it, he
found that he could not. His hand was attached to several tubes that impeded his movement. He opened his eyes slowly to see a young blonde man with a buzz cut and vivid green eyes staring intently at him.
“Mr. Lestrange, are you alright?” he asked.
Max nodded his head trying to indicate with his eyes that he wanted the mask off his face. The man ignored him, listening to his heart beat with a stethoscope. Max recognized the uniform as belonging to his emergency rescue service but he hadn’t met this particular EMT before. Of course it wasn’t like he was a geriatric used to taking regular emergency trips to the hospital.
“Mr. Lestrange you seem to have a flare up of inflammation around your prostate judging by your elevated temperature and the slight shake in your extremities. Are you in pain? Just nod for yes or shake for no.”
Max was about to shake his head when he felt it; a burning just above his pelvis. He nodded his head and tried to turn his eyes down toward the correct spot but the EMT was not paying attention. He was injecting something into the IV that was stuck in Max’ arm. Max wanted to ask if someone had notified Christine; surprised at how much he wanted her by his side at this time. But then he remembered that Martha had been in the house when he passed out. She would inform her granddaughter and then Christine would come to him.
*****
Martha did try to call Christine but she was dead to the world and didn’t hear the phone ring. She shrugged to herself, leaving a voicemail and then calling Whitby and Constantine to notify them that she’d had to call an ambulance to the house which probably meant someone would get hold of the news by tomorrow. She went to check on Max but they’d sedated him so she called Stevens and he drove her home. Tomorrow would be soon enough to find out what went wrong.
Christine woke up early feeling guilty about the way she treated Max yesterday. They’d agreed to live together so he did have a right to know where she was sleeping if she wasn’t home…she guessed. She also might have been acting all crazy because of the sex they had and not necessarily…she picked up her phone and checked to see if she had any messages. That was when she saw the missed call from Martha. She frowned at it, wondering why her grandmother would be calling her at midnight. She crept out of her bed and went over to her grandmother’s room with trepidation in every step. What if something had happened to her and someone else had called to inform her and she hadn’t heard the phone? She knocked softly and opened the door; peeking in the room to see that her grandmother was fast asleep. She heaved a huge sigh of relief, watching her, waiting to see if she would wake. When she didn’t, Christine decided to go rustle up some coffee, maybe some dry toast to start the day. Whatever she did, she hadn’t yet managed to stop herself from puking but hope sprang eternal.
