Verna looked like she was on the verge of exploding. Troy knew that look. He had seen it on Chelsea's face when he told her about the DNA test.
"I have never even talked to Erin." Lance continued. "Hush, Babe."
"Do not play with me like that again." Verna got up from the table and started stacking the dishes.
"What would you do?" Lance asked his wife. "Leave me like Chelsea left Troy?"
"Oh yes," Verna said viciously, "so fast your head would spin because not telling me would have been dishonest and I would question everything that you have ever told me, whether it was true or not."
She excused herself and left Troy alone with Lance. She still looked upset, though.
The clock ticked rhythmically as they heard her footfalls on the stairs and the sound of the children as they sang Bible choruses with Verna's sister.
"I had a thing with Erin too," Lance whispered after a while.
Troy had been contemplating how to say goodbye because he was feeling extremely awkward about the blow-up that he had caused.
"What?" Troy leaned toward his friend.
"I had a thing with Erin when we were in second year. Hell, she was giving it away. I wasn't as strong a Christian when it came to matters of the flesh."
Troy sighed. "I really didn't want to hear this, Lance. You just told your wife a blatant lie."
"A simple lie to preserve my marriage. There is something about Erin that had all the girls back then up in arms about her. She still has the power to mess up marriages, as you have experienced for yourself."
"There is nothing simple about lying." Troy grimaced. "I really, really wish that I had told Chelsea about it. We weren't married then and I am sure it would have been okay."
"I'll never tell Verna." Lance lowered his voice even more. "This one is going to the grave with me. You would have done the same too, if you hadn't been caught, and you would have been happy. Ignorance is bliss."
Troy didn't think so. The longer he waited, the more things festered. If he had the chance to do it all over again, he would tell Chelsea about him and Erin. He would have saved himself from a world of hurt right now.
Chapter Twelve
Saturday night found Chelsea at the Potters House in the company of Kadeem Virgo. He looked good and he smelled good. His newly-shaved head was gleaming under the low lights. He was sitting too close to her on the cushion in the intimate tent area at the beachside where they listened to poetry and drank fish soup out of colorful hand-decorated bowls.
The place was decorated Middle Eastern house style, with low tables and plush, colorful cushions strewn around and of course the ubiquitous pots of all shapes and sizes glazed to perfection, with many different patterns and paintings on them.
It was supposed to feel decadent and she thought that they had accomplished that. If only she wasn't feeling so uncomfortable.
She was on a date with Kadeem, her co-worker who, if she was to be honest, she had more than a fleeting attraction toward. Though he had convinced her that this was nothing more than a stress relieving session, for her it didn't change the fact that she was going out with another man.
With somebody other than Troy. She had never done that before even, when they broke up in college.
Her conscience was bothering her and her ring finger was itching persistently. She knew it was her imagination; she had taken off the ring weeks ago in a symbolic gesture of freedom but tonight, as if her mind was waging war with her body, her finger was uncomfortably itchy.
"You okay?" Kadeem leaned into her, his aftershave almost smothering her in its musky scent.
"Yes, fine," Chelsea said jerkily. "I ah, the fish soup is good."
Kadeem smiled and brought his hand up to brush a tendril of stray hair from her cheek. She had let it out tonight and had dressed in a regular green summer dress. There was nothing seductive or come-hither about her outfit but Kadeem was looking at her as if she was half naked. He lowered his eyes to her lips.
"Hey, loosen up."
"I am loose. I don't think I am too comfortable here. I know a couple of the wait staff. They know my husband’s family. This is...really...awkward."
Kadeem smiled. "Say no more. Let’s go."
"Where?" Chelsea thought to ask belatedly as Kadeem led her from the venue.
"Walking on the beach." Kadeem placed his hand in the small of her back and it felt like it burned a hole through her dress.
They strolled along the grainy sands; Chelsea took off her shiny green slippers. The heels were not very good for walking on the beach. There was a little wind out, just enough to feel good across her skin, and flashes of lightning out at sea, lending occasional fireworks to the night sky.
They passed several persons on the sands. A few business places and villas were on that side of the beach; a couple of lovers were strolling by too, too wrapped up in each other to care that here was Chelsea Scarlett, married to Troy Scarlett, strolling on the beach with Kadeem Virgo, a hunk of a man who looked at her with seduction in his eyes.
Why on earth was she allowing it? The answer was not quite clear in her mind.
They reached Caddy's Shack, which was blasting music. They could hear it all the way from the beach.
"Listen," Kadeem whispered near her ears. "It's the Pina Colada song!"
Chelsea grinned. "Yes it is, isn't it?"
"If you like Pina Coladas, and getting caught in the rain..." Kadeem started singing, "If you like making love at midnight..."
He started dancing to the music and rocking exaggeratedly and generally making a fool of himself.
Chelsea couldn't help it; she laughed. She was feeling lighter by the minute. Her ring finger had stopped itching.
A shower of rain had them running toward the villa, which was not far from where they were. The security waved them through good-naturedly.
"Hey, you are soaked through," Kadeem said huskily. They were under the eaves of the business office block.
"So are you." Chelsea shivered, looking at him. His black shirt was plastered to his chest. She looked down at herself. Her green dress was not made from material that should be wet and was plastered to her body. The lacy top of her bra could obviously be seen.
"You should come dry off at my place," Kadeem murmured huskily. "Your clothes will be dry in no time and then we can talk, have a drink, salvage some of the night."
Chelsea nodded. "Okay, but I thought you said that you liked getting caught in the rain?"
"I was singing the song, but it’s true I like making love at midnight." Kadeem grinned. "Come on."
They ran toward Villa Three, which was where Kadeem was staying. It was the closest villa to the business offices.
He searched in his wet pants for the swipe key and then they were inside and out of the rain. A flash of lightning illuminated the night sky before Kadeem closed the door behind them.
And instantly Chelsea was cocooned in the intimate atmosphere of Villa Three.
*****
Wrapped in one of the Villa's complimentary robes while her clothes dried and clutching a hot cup of chocolate, she heard the weather outside and listened to Kadeem talk about some of the hotels he had been at to audit the books and how Villa Ingles measured up. He had changed into a soft looking red top and blue jeans. His muscles bunched as he raised the cup of chocolate to his lips.
Chelsea sighed. She could easily picture being with Troy now. They used to live for weather like this. There was just something about being inside with the person you loved when the elements were raging outside.
She sat up straighter in her chair. So what was she doing here?
Kadeem saw the look of light easiness fade from her face and he stopped his gentle prattling. It was time to play hot and heavy. If he gave Chelsea too much time to think she would be bolting out of here and into the rain.
He got up and put on a soft jazz instrumental album, compliments of Ricky. He didn't particularly like jazz but Ricky had insisted that it was a mood
enhancer and that Chelsea liked the music.
He had deliberately placed Chelsea's clothes in the dryer on the coolest setting, hoping that they would take an eternity to dry. He was hell-bent on seducing her. Ricky was breathing down his neck to speed things up.
He walked behind her and started massaging her tense shoulders.
"Relax," he murmured in her ear soothingly. "Remember, you want revenge. Your husband is probably doing the same thing now with that pretty housekeeper of his."
Chelsea inhaled raggedly.
"Don't remind me." She hung down her head as he expertly swiped his hand in rhythmic motions down her neck.
"What do you see in him anyway?" Kadeem whispered, bringing his mouth down to her ear and blowing on it.
He knew she shivered in reaction. He slowly and deliberately pushed his hands in the robe at the back, where he could feel her smooth satiny skin, and then slowly and deliberately turned her around until they were kissing.
Gotcha. His mind pinged with hazy lust. Gotcha Chelsea Scarlett; you will be mine now.
But they weren't kissing for long before Chelsea jumped up like a scalded cat out of the supine position she was in.
"What do I see in him?"
"Huh?" Kadeem was feeling a little dazed. He had been caught up in the moment, very sure of his conquest.
"Troy," Chelsea said, her voice high and tinny. "You asked me what I saw in him?"
"And you are going to tell me now, in the middle of us kissing?" Kadeem asked incredulously.
"I can't do this." Chelsea had a vulnerable, uncertain look on her face.
He knew how to handle this without losing the night altogether. She just needed gentle persuading.
Chapter Thirteen
Troy now considered himself a professional at handling Todd. They had fallen into a workable routine. He would wake up Todd at seven. They would have devotion together and then he would fix them breakfast. And then he would shower while Todd watched an educational video.
He would get dressed and they would chat, mostly about the video or about his little friends or his birthday that was coming up and his presents. And then at eight Faye would come by. If it were a Monday she would scold him for feeding the children too many sweets on the weekends if she saw any leftover snacks in the fridge.
If it was Tuesday, she would come in bleary-eyed and silent because she stayed up late on Monday nights with her sick grandmother. Her family was taking turns in caring for her. She would answer Todd's questions with only a grunt as she helped him to get ready for school.
If it were Wednesday, she would come in chirpy and laughing and scold him for keeping Todd's hair too long, but then she would look at it, fascinated; it had several shades of reddish, orange-ish, and brownish colors. She would hold it to the light and threaten to cut away the curly mass.
And then he would leave her with Todd, stepping out the door, his cell phone clutched to his ear as he called his mom for updates on Dahlia. But this morning was different.
Wednesday morning, Faye wasn't chirpy or laughing when she came in. She had a broad beige envelope clutched to her chest.
"What's wrong?" He looked at her, surprised at how solemn she was.
She shrugged. "I don't know, but this doesn't look good." She handed the envelope over to him and he took it. On the front was written ‘Scarlett Sinner’ in uppercase letters.
"What did you do, Mr. Troy?"
"Nothing, I think." Troy opened the envelope and realized that he was looking at large letter-sized pictures of Chelsea and that hunk guy.
There was one of them walking on the beach. It was obviously night and she was laughing at something he said, her head thrown back in wild abandonment.
The next was of her wet, her hair plastered to her skull, her dress molded to her curves. Her brassiere clearly showing. She was smiling at something that the hunk said. He had his hand on her cheek.
The next was of her in a robe, lounging in what looked like the interior of a hotel.
He didn't want to see anymore but by this time he had an inclination of where this was going.
He inhaled tremulously.
This was hurtful, more than he could even imagine. It was like his retina was transferring pain to his aorta. His heart was hurting. He rubbed his chest to ease the pain before looking at the last picture.
The next picture was of her and the guy clearly lip-locked in a passionate embrace.
His Chelsea.
He shoved the pictures back in the envelop inelegantly ripping the side of the envelop in his wrath. "Where did you find this?"
He looked at Faye. She had a scared look on her face, as if she was frightened. That was when he realized that he had almost shouted the question at her.
"By the... the... the... door," she stammered and started wringing her hands. "What's in it?"
"My wife and her lover," Troy said the words quickly. When his brain registered what he said, he inhaled.
His phone rang at the same time. He didn't answer it; he headed for the kitchen, walking slowly, as if he was severely aged and had no strength left.
Faye was trailing behind him too.
"Get Todd ready for school." He looked back at her weakly. "I am fine, just carry on as usual."
She said in a rush, "Troy, my boyfriend has this idea that we are more than just employer and employee."
"Your boyfriend, the jealous guy?" Troy couldn't even process this now.
"Yes." Faye nodded. "His name is Greg. I may have told him that you, er, were a very good man, one of the best, and he took it the wrong way. Please watch out for him; he's crazy!"
"Okay." Troy's phone rang again and he took it out of his pocket and snapped, "What!"
Faye scurried out of the room at his tone.
"It's me. You sound stressed."
"I can't talk now, Yuri." Troy massaged his temples. His right hand was trembling.
"Does this have anything to do with pictures?" Yuri asked cautiously.
"Yes." Troy swallowed the salty lump that was at his throat. "How did you know?"
"Got some in my email."
"Really, why?" Troy's headache was growing by the second.
"Because Ricky's paw prints are all over this."
"He might have sent the pictures," Troy said huskily, his voice weak with hurt, "but this is Chelsea's own doing. She made her decision a long time ago to exit this marriage, and I was stupidly holding on like an idiot while she was screwing Hulk Hogan."
Yuri sighed down the phone. "You got the pictures via email?"
"Not by email, physical pictures, blown-up pictures that show her every reaction. Did you see?" his voice cracked. "Did you see her in the hotel with that guy? Laughing with him, kissing him?"
"Yes," Yuri murmured, "but Troy, please don't jump to any conclusions. It's Ricky we are talking about here. He is a manipulator. He threatened to come after the family. And this is one way."
"A picture is worth a thousand words, Yuri," Troy gritted out. "Are you saying they were photo-shopped?"
"No. Well, they look pretty authentic," Yuri answered hesitantly. "I think you should talk to Chelsea."
"Oh yes, I will talk to her," Troy said through gritted teeth. "I'll talk to her, all right. She's such a hypocrite. She spent a full year of our marriage accusing me of something that happened before we were married. And now she is doing the exact same thing she accused me of. How is this even logical in her brain? How is this even..." he inhaled raggedly.
"Just talk to her before you jump to conclusions," Yuri urged. "I know Ricky; he is really sly. Marla said his mother threatened to cut him off if he didn't leave us alone, but apparently his mom changed her mind."
"Argh," Troy growled down the phone. Yuri was talking about Ricky when he was thinking about his unfaithful, spiteful wife. He couldn't process both things right now. He said a hasty goodbye and hung up the phone.
What was his next move here? He loosened his tie and then snatched up the phone and
called in sick. He was going to confront Chelsea face to face.
*****
It took Troy an hour to reach Villa Ingles; he had to drive almost at a crawl down one stretch of the mountain roads because of the recent rains. In that time he had calmed down sufficiently enough to examine the situation from both angles.
Chelsea was angry at him for having an outside child. She knew that being with someone else would gut him, the ultimate punishment. Maybe that was what she was hoping for, to teach him a lesson to let him feel how finding out about him and Erin made her feel.
But to go as far as to sleep with someone else?
The thought made his skin crawl. He obviously didn't know Chelsea as well as he thought. Going to confront her was pointless. The relationship was dead. In the past twelve months, she had stopped communicating with him.
He should have seen this coming.
He stopped at the entrance to the Villa. Next week was six years. He still remembered the first time he saw her in a crowded auditorium of people. How he had thought, I have to meet that girl.
He had met her, demonstrating oodles of confidence that he didn't have. He was not the type of person to go up to girls and ask for their number, but he had and he couldn't believe that she gave it to him.
He remembered the day of their wedding, how absolutely happy he had been that they would be sharing their life together.
He remembered when they had just moved into the house at Pedro. Painting it together, doing repairs together. For the first time being adults together on their own…insulated in their newly-minted world of love.
And then when she was pregnant, how absolutely scared he had felt. They were going to have their own little human being to nurture and grow. How Chelsea had been absolutely excited about everything about her pregnancy. She had found it all fascinating.
And then when Dahlia was born, a little brown thing with a shock of red hair. How he had looked at his wife and thought, I can't love her more.
Scarlett Sinner (The Scarletts Page 9
