by Tina Martin
Tyson shakes his head. “That’s a shame.”
I feel him looking at me, staring while I eat and suddenly, I no longer want to chew.
“What else has Dilvan done to you?”
“Um...”
“How’s er’thang?” Beatrice asks, as she opens the door, barging into the room and our conversation. “Would you like more soup, Tyson?”
“Yes ma’am. Your soup is amazing.”
Beatrice smiles big. “Mrs. Padma say you make a mean soup yourself, Tyson.”
“Yeah, but it’s not as good as yours,” he tells her.
Beatrice blushes. She loves it when people compliment her cooking.
“What ‘bout you, Gabrielle?” Beatrice asks. “More soup, honey?”
“No thanks, Beatrice. It is delicious, but I’m stuffed.”
“Okay, shug. Tyson, I’ll be right back wit’ your bowl.”
Beatrice leaves again, but is back quickly with a bowl of hot clam chowder for Tyson.
He talks more, and I say he talks because I barely said a word to him. I just listened as he went on and on about the work he was involved in. He said he helped Padma with her charities and assisted with other things she needed help with.
* * *
After dinner, I’m so sleepy, I can no longer keep my eyes open. So I nod off, though I’m not fully asleep. It’s still difficult for me to sleep in this room because it’s not my room, and because Tyson is here, watching me.
My eyes open when I hear his footsteps pattering against the wooden floor. I have flashbacks for a moment, thinking it’s Dilvan coming to hurt me again. I curl up in a ball and pull the bed covers up tight around my body. Then I realize it’s not Dilvan’s footsteps. It’s Tyson.
Tyson sits on the bed next to me, adjusts the covers and say, “You can rest easy tonight, Gabrielle. I won’t hurt you. I promise.”
He smiles. I don’t know him that well, but for some reason or another, I know I can trust him when he says he won’t hurt me. He’s here to help me instead.
So I breathe easy. I will sleep well tonight. Tyson will protect me. Padma sent him to make sure I was okay, and I’m sure he would do his job.
CHAPTER 9
Dilvan
- - -
“Nice restaurant choice,” Isabella said, as Dilvan pulled the seat out from the table for her, being a complete gentleman.
He’d heard about JiRaffe Restaurant before, knew it was an elegant place to dine, so he’d made reservations for them.
“I know you have good taste,” he told her.
“How do you know that?” she asked playfully, sending him a striking smile, almost blushing.
“Just a well, educated guess,” he replied.
“You guessed right.”
“You look very beautiful tonight,” he told her, his eyes rolling down to her cleavage. She’d exposed more than an average woman would have, probably because she was accustomed to being scantily clad. It came with her profession.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“So let’s see what’s good here,” she said, picking up a menu, holding it in front of her face, then peeping around it, smiling at him.
Dilvan found her playfulness appealing.
“I don’t eat meat,” she added, “So I hope they have options on this menu to accommodate me.”
“Oh, you’re vegetarian.”
“Yep. It’s the best way for me to maintain my figure. I plan on modeling at least until I’m thirty-five.”
“How old are you now, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I don’t mind at all. I’m twenty-five.”
“So am I.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Dilvan said. “You say that like you’re surprised.”
“Only because you have such distinct features...you look like you could be a few years older, which is a good thing for a man, by the way, but not a woman.”
Dilvan nodded. “Do you drink wine?”
“I do. I love wine.”
“Okay. Perfect.”
“Good evening folks,” the waitress said. “May I start you fine folks off with something to drink?”
“Yes,” Dilvan spoke up. “Bring us a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, please.”
“Sure thing, and are we having appetizers tonight?”
“Yes,” Isabella said. “I’ll have the organic mixed greens.”
“And I’ll have the crab cake.”
“Excellent choices. I’ll be right back with your wine and two glasses.”
When the waitress walked away, Isabella said, “You’re adventurous, I see...ordering a bottle of wine before a shoot.”
“I always have wine before a shoot...it helps to relax me, so when I’m being yelled at to look this way and look that way, I won’t have a complete meltdown.”
Isabella giggled. “I know what you mean. I’m looking forward to this one, though. I always wanted to shoot at the Santa Monica Pier.”
“Me too.”
The waitress came back with the wine, popped the cork on the bottle and poured them both a glass. After telling them that their appetizers were on the way, she walked off.
“So what else do you do besides model?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I know you don’t work twenty-four-seven?”
“No. In between shoots, I like to spend time with family. My sister has three little girls and I love spending time with them, especially since I don’t have children of my own. Actually, I don’t want children. I’m sorry, that was probably too much information. I tend to talk a lot when I’m nervous.”
“Why are you nervous?”
“I think you know why I’m nervous, Dilvan,” she responded, blushing.
He wanted to smile, but refused. Instead, he said, “So no kids, huh?”
“Nope. I like ‘em, but I can’t mess this body up with kids.”
“Ah, I see.” And boy did she have a body, he thought. The downside of it all was Dilvan wanted kids...just not with Gabrielle.
The waitress brought over their appetizers and after walking away again, Isabella asked, “What about you? You have little ones?”
“No. I have one niece and one nephew, but I would like to have children of my own one day.”
Isabella nodded.
“My Mother supports many charities that help kids,” he added. “She is obsessed with doing charity work.”
“That’s wonderful. What organizations are she involved with?”
“Mostly her own. She founded Padma’s Food House, which is a program that helps to provide food for kids during the summer months. It’s also the name of her restaurant where she welcomes people for free of charge.”
“Free of charge?”
Dilvan nodded. “Yep. The only thing she asks is that patrons leave a donation in a drop box on the way out. She doesn’t really care how much they leave, but people are so generous, you know. People who have more money, leave more...people who can’t afford to leave a lot only leave maybe a few dollars, but at the end of the day, everyone, no matter how much money they have, gets to experience delicious food. She hired some world class chefs for that place.”
Isabella smiled big and covered her mouth.
“What is it?” he asked her.
“Don’t tell me Padma Alexander is your Mother.”
A smile grew on his face. “Yes. As a matter of fact, she is.”
Isabella’s eyes grew even bigger. “Really?”
“Yep. Really.”
“Man, it’s a small world. I actually met her when she was doing a bone marrow drive in Virginia Beach and raising awareness for bone marrow donations...said she does those regularly in honor of the donor who came through for your Father.”
Dilvan nodded. “Yes. Another foundation she started recently...the G.A. Foundation of Hope.”
“Yes. That’s wonderful. How is your Father, by the way?”
“He’s
doing a lot better. That bone marrow transplant saved his life.”
“Yeah. That’s what your Mom was telling me at the drive.”
“It was a rough time for our family, you know. My Father is the glue that holds us all together. We may not get along all the time or see eye-to-eye, but we love each other. I actually think that my Father is the only person on this earth who understands me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if we lost him.”
Isabella nodded. “Yeah...thank goodness her daughter-in-law was such a close match.”
Dilvan disguised a frown and asked, “What do you mean?”
“You know,” Isabella said as a look of confusion brushed across her flustered face. “Your Mother introduced me to her daughter-in-law, which would be your sister-in-law, right? I think her name was...um...Gabrielle. Yeah, that’s her...cute girl, brown-toned, natural hair...”
Dilvan frowned. No, Gabrielle wasn’t his sister-in-law. She was his wife! However, since Isabella didn’t know he was married, she could only assume that Gabrielle was his sister-in-law.
Dilvan’s chest rose in and out as he tried to process what Isabella was telling him. Seemed she knew the affairs of his family more so than he did. What was going on? Was Gabrielle really the anonymous donor that saved his Father’s life?
“Are you okay?” Isabella asked when she saw how despondent he’d become.
“Yeah, fine,” he responded, then turned up the glass of wine to his mouth, finishing it then pouring another.
“Are you sure? You look a little flushed.”
“Um...” He took two bills from his wallet, a hundred and a fifty, “I gotta go. Thanks for having drinks with me, and I hope your shoot goes well tomorrow.”
Isabella looked confused when she watched him stand up. “O...kay. I hope yours do too.”
* * *
Dilvan took a taxi back to the hotel where he sat on the bed, furious and equally confused. It hadn’t dawned on him, until just now that the letters ‘G’ and ‘A’ in G.A. Foundation of Hope possibly stood for Gabrielle Alexander.
Had his wife, the woman he loathed, saved his Father’s life? Back when his Father, Colin, needed the transplant, all the brothers were tested, but no one was a match. Family members stepped up and when there were no matches, Dilvan took to the streets, organizing a team to find a match for his Father. To get more people to get tested, he even offered ten thousand dollars to the person who was a match and donated marrow for him. But even the reward of money didn’t bring in a match. Then, one day, an anonymous donor showed up, was a close match, and Colin recovered for three months following the allogeneic transplant.
Since breaking out in a sweat, Dilvan stepped out onto the balcony to get some fresh, Santa Monica air, rubbing his hands across his face. He couldn’t rest unless he found out if this was true. Who else to get the truth from but straight from his Father?
He dialed his Father’s cell phone. Colin was in New York, meeting with investors and was no doubt in bed by now since it was 1:00 a.m. on the East Coast. Dilvan listened with sweaty palms as the phone run several times. When the voicemail picked up, he hung up and dialed the number again.
“Hello?” Colin answered with a groggy voice.
“Hello, Father. It’s Dilvan.”
“Dilvan...what’s the matter, son? Are you okay?”
“Um...yeah. I’m okay—”
“Then why on earth are you calling me at one in the morning?”
“I’m sorry...I’m in Cali, and um...I need to know something, Dad.”
“Okay, well spit it out so I can go back to sleep.”
“When you were sick, back in February, and needed that bone marrow transplant, did you know who the donor was?”
“Dilvan, why on earth is this an urgent matter to you?”
“I want to know.”
“Why, son?”
“Because I need to know. Was it Gabrielle?”
“Dilvan...”
“Just tell me. Was it?”
Colin blew an agitated breath.
“Dad, I wouldn’t be asking you if I didn’t need to know, now please just—”
“Yes! Yes, Dilvan. It was Gabrielle.”
Dilvan’s lips trembled and for a moment, he could feel his heartbeats pounding against his chest with fierce thumps. “I don’t believe this. Mother told me it was an anonymous donor!”
“Dilvan, you need to calm down.”
“Calm down! And y’all have been lying to me?”
“Listen, son...your Mother told me not to tell you that Gabrielle was the donor.”
“Why?”
“You’re going to have to take that up with her. Now I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow, so I’m going to get off this phone. If you decide to call your Mother, do me a favor...wait to call her at a decent hour. Goodnight, son.”
Colin hung up the phone and Dilvan immediately dropped to his knees and covered his face. It was true. For the last six and a half months, he’d been torturing the woman who had saved his Father’s life. He wondered if Heshan and Prasad were aware that Gabrielle had done this for their Father. Was he the only one left in the dark? The one terrorizing Gabrielle?
He hadn’t realized, until this moment, how innocent she was and how incredibly bad he’d been to her. He was trying to teach his Mother a lesson, but Padma had ended up exposing him for the selfish man he was – the man she constantly complained about.
Dilvan held his head in agony. How could he be so cruel to Gabrielle? He hadn’t tried to get to know anything about her or her family. He degraded her, told her she was ugly, that she was a waste of space. He hadn’t truly realized her worth, that she had a heart of gold. That she was truly a gem. He hated to admit it but his Mother chose the perfect woman for him. He just didn’t want to see Gabrielle for her value.
CHAPTER 10
Gabrielle
- - -
“So Padma should be here any minute now,” Tyson says, sitting directly across from me at the dining room table.
I don’t bother looking up at him but the pheromones floating across the table, which I attribute to testosterone, Zest body wash, aftershave and some luxurious cologne, blends deliciously with the aroma of bacon, ham and pancake syrup. Beatrice had cooked another mouth-watering breakfast, with waffles this time.
Tyson was just finishing up his last waffle, then he wipes his mouth and asks, “Are you okay?” when he notice I hadn’t eaten much of anything.
I nod, my head still down. I was worried about telling Padma all the things her son had done to me. If Dilvan ever found out, I’m certain he’d find me and strangle me to death, especially if Padma cut him out of the family inheritance.
“Gabrielle?”
“Yes.”
“Can you look at me? Please?”
I look at him, maintaining eye contact this time. The feeling of sitting at this table and looking people in the eyes is overwhelming for me. That’s just something Dilvan didn’t tolerate, something I’ve become accustomed to.
“There you are,” he says, flashing a heart-stopping smiling. “When Padma leaves, we’re going to pack. Okay.”
I nod again.
“How’d you sleep last night?”
“Good...better than I’ve slept in a long time.”
“Good, now why aren’t you eating?”
“I’m not really hungry.”
“Why? Are you worried?”
Is this guy reading me that well, I think to myself. That’s when I realize I don’t know him that well – that he’s here, he said, because Padma sent him here purposely to find out about my life with Dilvan. So just to clarify and to see if he still has the same story as yesterday, I ask, “Why’d Padma send you here again?”
“I told you...she wanted me to make sure you were okay.”
“And why would she think I wasn’t okay?”
Tyson grins. “You do realize we’ve already had this conversation, don’t you?”
“Have we?”
“Okay, so in the grand scheme of things, you are Padma’s clean-up guy?”
Tyson laughs. “You’re making me sound like a mobster.”
I grin a little.
“Nah, I’m not Padma’s clean-up guy,” he says then laughs again.
“So what do you do? Maintain her properties?”
“Something like that.”
“And she sent you here to look after me?”
“She sent me here to find out what’s been going on and to determine if Dilvan had been treating you okay. But you haven’t been particularly forthcoming with me so she’s coming to find out for herself this morning. I understand you two are pretty close.”
“Yes. I love Padma like a Mother.”
“Then make sure you pour your heart out to her like one.”
“But—”
“Well hello, my daughter,” Padma says, stepping into the dining room, interrupting my conversation with Tyson.
“Hi,” I say, then get up from the table to greet her with a hug.
Tyson stands and says, “I’m going to give you ladies your privacy. Holla if you need me.” He disappears somewhere in the living room and now, it’s just Padma and I, sitting at the table. She takes a plate, grabs a few food items and asks, “How have you been, daughter?”
“Um...” Before I can lie and say I’m okay, she says, “Tyson told me the story about what happened last night.”
I frown. “He did?”
“Yes, now I want to hear it from you, dear. What has been going on in this house?”
“Padma, I don’t want to get Dilvan in any sort of trouble.” Translation: I don’t want Dilvan to kill me.
“Forget about Dilvan!” she snaps, her home country accent dominating her vernacular. “I made your Father a promise that I would take care of you, and I’ve been so busy with the business, that I have failed. Now I want to know what’s going on.”
