The Estates
Page 8
Once he checked into the hotel, he freshened up then headed back to the bar to wait on Melissa. As he suspected it would be, the hotel bar was fairly empty. He was surprised to see her waiting on him when he arrived. She looked amazing as ever and his heart began racing as he walked towards her. Melissa was the most gorgeous woman in the world to him. At five foot seven, and nearly a hundred and ninety pounds, she was a thick girl, but she carried it well. Her hair, which was normally long and wavy, was now in a chic, chin length bob and he liked it.
“Look at you!” he said.
Melissa stood up from the stool she was sitting on and they embraced for a few moments before he kissed her cheek. The familiar scent of her perfume filled his nostrils and he couldn’t help but feel the fullness of her chest as he held her tight. He was tempted to let his hands linger below her hips but he knew better.
“You like it?” Melissa asked, shaking her hair as she took her seat.
“I do.” King nodded, reaching and stroking her bob. “You always stay fly though.”
“What can I get you?” The bartender came over and asked.
“I’m fine,” Melissa said, pointing to the bottle of Perrier in front of her. “Do you want anything?”
King gave her an up and down look and smiled. “What are you offering?”
“I’m offering you a soda or some water, whichever you choose,” Melissa smirked.
“Naw, I’m good then,” King told the bartender. He then turned to Melissa and said, “You know how to tempt a brother, don’t you?”
“You’re fine. How long is it now?”
“A while.”
“What’s a while?”
“Drugs, almost two years.”
“And alcohol?”
“Other than a beer I drunk to celebrate the Giant’s Superbowl win. It’s been a little over nine months.” King shrugged. Sobriety was a daily challenge for him, especially since most of his life had been spent indulging in marijuana, alcohol and even the occasional hit of cocaine. For him, it was all a part of being a member of the group. King was the one member who could perform during a concert, party until noon the next day, arrive in the studio and lay down a track and be ready to perform again. Unlike the R&B legends King grew to love: David Ruffin, Rick James, and Gerald Levert, he didn’t succumb to the lifestyle and lose himself to it. He thrived while intoxicated. It made him a better performer and did wonders for his songwriting. What it didn’t do was wonders for was his reputation or his relationships. Time and time again, he was accused of being a womanizer, philanderer and fathering numerous children. Most of which wasn’t true, people just didn’t understand him, which angered him at times. The fact that he would throw items across the room when he got frustrated, or throw a punch at a guy who disrespected him just showed how passionate he was. And passion was what music was all about. He had one failed marriage, and was in the process of ending his second one. Losing his mother had been the one sobering factor in his life. Her death was a shock and it sent him into a state of depression which landed him in rehab. It was there that he realized that he did have some emotional baggage from his childhood, and anger issues, and it was there that he got clean. He vowed to stay clean as a legacy to his mother. So far, he had kept his promise. It wasn’t easy, especially with the messy divorce he was dealing with. Having people in his corner like Melissa, his group members and his manager helped out a lot.
“I’m proud of you,” Melissa told him.
“Proud enough to go upstairs with me?”
“Hell no, not that proud,” she laughed.
“So, what’s so important that I had to fly all the way to VA to discuss?”
“I need for you to take Knight for a while.”
King blinked for a few seconds.“What? What do you mean?”
“Knight? Your son? I need for you to take him to live with you.”
“I’m getting him this summer when school lets out.”
King always kept his son for a month during the summer, in addition to seeing him during the major holidays when he wasn’t touring. They always had a great time going to amusement parks, movies, and he allowed his son to pick a destination for them to spend an entire week. Knight was adventurous so they had been everywhere from Hawaii to Brazil. He loved hanging out with his son, but it seemed like Melissa was asking him to do something a whole lot more than jet set for a couple of days.
“No, right now.”
King inhaled and then said, “I can take him for a couple of days.”
“I need you to take him for more than a couple of days, King. My mother is sick. Really sick. I’m gonna have to go up to Baltimore for a little while,” Melissa told him. King saw the tears forming in her eyes and he reached for her hand.
“Damn, Mel. I’m sorry. What’s wrong?”
“Stomach cancer. I don’t know how bad it is. I just know she’s sick and I need to get to her. But King, you know I can’t take him with me to Baltimore, there’s no way,” Melissa shook her head.
“But….look...what…”
“BUT nothing….there’s nothing to LOOK at...and WHAT I need you to do is what I’ve been doing for the past fourteen years. Be a full time parent. It’s not that hard to comprehend. What’s the problem?” He could see Melissa getting agitated, and he didn’t want things to get ugly between them. But this was unexpected and not what he thought she wanted to talk about. For some reason he thought she wanted to talk about them. They had been getting closer over the past year and now that his mess of a marriage would hopefully soon be over, he hoped that maybe there was a chance that they could try again. Now here he was sitting there and she was asking him to be a full time father.
“I’m not saying it’s a problem, Mel. But you know I have a lot going on right now. This divorce is crazy…”
“That’s because you married a crazy woman. And you told me she moved out and has been gone for months.”
“She did...and she has. But I’m still dealing with lawyers and the settlement. And you know the guys and I are touring again and we’re trying to work on this album.”
“Your son will be at school during the day when you have your legal meetings. And you know you aren’t on tour. You all are making appearances every now and then. King, I really don’t care what you have going on in your life right now. I just told you my mother is dying. I am leaving to go and take care of her and my father, who you also know has Alzheimers. Now, you and I have always had a great relationship and we have an amazing son. Even when you’ve messed up over the years, I’ve always had your back. You can’t say that about everybody. Now, I’m gonna need for you to have mine for a little while.”
“I do have your back, Mel. I’m sorry you gotta deal with all of this. Trust me, I know what you’re going through. It’s hard being the only child and something happens to your parent. You know I know that. Why don’t we talk to Uncle Matt and see if he can…”
“You can’t be serious, King. You want to leave your teenage son in the care of your seventy year old uncle who has health issues of his own?”
“First of all, Uncle Matt is fine. He may have a little high blood pressure and hypertension…”
“The man had bypass surgery last month and has a heart monitor that he wears.”
“But he’s fine now. If Knight stays with him, he can stay in the same school with his friends and we won’t have to disrupt his life. Let’s just try it out and see.”
“King Jabari Douglas, I’m not gonna sit here and argue about this because now you sound real stupid, and you’re not a stupid man. You will be taking your son back to California to live with you until I am able to come and get him,” Melissa stated.
King knew he had lost the fight and an hour later he was back in his hotel room, trying to figure out how he was going to handle his new responsibilities of being a full time dad once he and Knight went back to California in two days. He was also fighting the urge to go back down to the bar and get a drink. He was stressed and neede
d to do something and do it quick. His eyes fell on the business card on the nightstand and dialed Nikita’s number, inviting her to his room. She didn’t hesitate to tell him she would be there within minutes. He was anxiously awaiting her arrival when he got a call from an unfamiliar number. Thinking maybe it was her calling from another number, he answered.
“KING! So you bout to let Knight come and live with you in Cali?”
Immediately King regretted answering the phone as he heard Portia’s voice yelling at him.
“Hello to you too Portia.”
“Yeah, whatever. Knight bout to be living wit you now? PJ came in and said Knight just put on Instagram that he was “moving in wit Pops.” I knew this shit was gonna happen. My momma told me you was always gonna favor him over my son and she was right!”
“That’s a lie and you know it. I love both my sons equally and I always have.”
“Now THAT’S a lie! It’s always been all about Knight. He’s the one you take on fabulous trips and shopping sprees. My son gets nothing.”
How Portia considered the eight thousand dollars a month he paid in child support nothing, King didn’t understand. He also didn’t understand why his son would put that information out on social media without even speaking to him first. He had some choice words for his son and grabbed his iPad to pull up Instagram to see what Portia was talking about. He searched his son’s page and was relieved not to find a post even remotely saying anything like she said.
“Portia, I’m not having this conversation with you. I have to go,” he said when he heard the beeping on his line. He switched to the other caller and asked, “Where you at sweetheart?”
“Getting on the elevator,” Nikita told him. He gave her the room number and when he opened the door and found her standing there wearing a trench coat and heels, he smiled.
“Darling Nikki.”
Hours later, they were both exhausted and laying in bed when his phone rang again. Thinking it was Portia, he tried to ignore it, but it kept ringing.
“Don’t you wanna get that?” Nikki asked, turning over and facing him.
He brushed one of her long locs from her face and said, “Nope. I got something else I’m trying to get.”
She giggled and said, “Well, before I give it to you again, can you at least put your phone on silent?”
King nodded and climbed out of bed and walked over to the nearby desk where the phone was laying. He picked it up and saw that the missed calls weren’t from Portia, they were from Leo, his business manager. King hoped his psychotic baby mama hadn’t gone and done anything stupid. He dialed Leo’s number.
“Man, you need to get on the next flight and get back home,” Leo told him.
“You’re crazy! I just got here a couple of hours ago. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“You need to get back now. It’s an emergency.”
King knew something was wrong by the tone in Leo’s voice. The last time Leo sounded like this, one of the other group members dad had been killed in a car accident.
“What’s going on?” King asked, praying that someone wasn’t dead.
“I just got word that your house is on fire.”
“What?” King began panicking. Next to his sons, his Grammy awards for his solo albums and his custom motorcycle, King’s house was his most prized possession.
“They just called me. Hell, I think it’s on the news.”
King reached for the remote and turned to CNN. Sure enough, there was a shot of his house with smoke billowing out of it and the words ‘Home of former R&B star set ablaze.’
“What the hell do they mean former?” King asked, sitting on the end of the bed.
“Wow! Is that your house?” Nikita asked.
“Who is that?” Leo questioned. “I know that ain’t Melissa. Is that why you had to fly to meet her?”
“Hell no!” King told him. “I can’t believe this.”
He turned up the volume and tried to think of what to do next.
“Folks what you’re seeing is live footage from the mansion of former R&B singer King Douglas. The recently build mansion is the location of a four alarm fire and firefighters are trying to contain the flames and minimize the already severely damaged property. We have a reporter headed to the scene but we have just received word that Mr. Douglas’ estranged wife supermodel Scorpio was in the home when the fire started and has been taken to a local hospital.”
And just like that, when King thought his life couldn’t get any worse, it did.
Bishop Walter Burke
Walter Burke sat at his mahogany desk and stared at the open Bible in front of him. He was trying to put the final touches on the sermon he had prepared for Sunday, but he couldn’t focus. His mind was racing and he was tired after being up for almost thirty six hours. Going nonstop was nothing new for him. The day before had started with his normal routine of waking at six in the morning, spending prayer time with his wife, followed by an hour long workout with his personal trainer. He then had multiple meetings and conference calls regarding church business, television appearances, the next book he was scheduled to write, and the script for a film project he had just secured that he was excited about. Later that evening, he preached at a revival service at one of his outreach churches, which was followed by another meeting. After the long day he had, all he wanted to do was spend some intimate time with his wife, preferably in their marbled, dual shower, and then go to bed. After sweet talking to her on the phone, his plan seemed to be in motion. He turned his cell phone off and sat back in the passenger’s seat of his black Escalade which was being driven by Frank, his adjutant, hoping to catch a quick nap during the hour long drive they had ahead of them. He knew he was in capable hands. Frank had been by his side for years. A longtime member of the church, he was more like a son than an employee.
“Bishop, something’s going on,” Frank’s voice startled him out of his sleep.
Walter sat up and saw that they were approaching “Harrington Estates” where his home was located. Walter rubbed his eyes, confused because there was a line of cars trying to turn into his neighborhood, causing a massive traffic jam. It was the first time since moving there that Walter had actually seen more than two cars at one time. The area was so secluded and newly constructed, that most people didn’t even know it even existed. Now, he could see news vans and reporters standing on the side of the road. Frank eased onto the main roadway leading to the entrance of the neighborhood. Fire trucks, police cars and emergency vehicles lined the streets.
“I’m sorry, emergency vehicles only,” a police officer told them after Frank rolled down the window.
“Officer, I am a resident here. I live around the corner and this is the only way I can get to my home. What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry gentlemen, but there is a massive fire in one of the homes,” the officer told him.
Walter began to panic and he immediately began to pray while he searched for his cell phone. He dialed both Olivia and Micah’s number, but neither one of them answered.
“Which house? Where is it?” Walter asked.
The officer didn’t have to answer because Walter suddenly noticed the smoke in the distance. It was near his home, but he could tell it was on the opposite side. Nevertheless, he still needed to make sure his wife and son were okay.
“Here is my identification, sir.” Walter grabbed his license from the wallet in his back pocket and passed it to Frank, who passed it to the officer. “I need to get through and make sure my family is okay.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but we can’t let any vehicles back there,” the officer said, taking the small square of plastic then shining his light on it, then looked closer into the truck. “Wait, you’re Bishop Walter Burke! My wife watches you on TV and she has all your books! Man, you saved my marriage.” The short, blonde white guy said, all in one breath.
Frank looked over at the Bishop and shook his head. They were used to this kind of reaction once people actually real
ized who he was.
“I’m glad to hear that, young man. Now I’m sure you can understand why I need to get home and make sure my wife and son are okay,” Walter told him.
“I do, but there is no way I can let you through. We were given strict instructions that we can’t allow any vehicles anywhere near the area. The press and paparazzi are clamoring to get in,” the officer shrugged.
“What if we park the truck and got out and walked to the Bishop’s house?” Frank asked.
The officer tilted his head to the side and Walter could tell he was thinking for a minute.
“My house is right around the corner. I just need to get to my home, officer….” He leaned over to see if he could read the name badge.
“Ford, sir,” the officer offered.
“Officer Ford,” Walter nodded.
“Okay, pull the vehicle all the way to the side, out of the street and make sure it’s not blocking anything or anyone,” the officer finally told them.
“Thank you, Officer Ford. God bless you sir,” Walter barely got the words out as the officer flagged them through, speaking into the walkie talkie device located on his shoulder and alerting his fellow officers that what they were doing was okay. Frank pulled near an empty lot near the entrance, which held a “For Sale” sign. They quickly got out of the truck and maneuvered their way through the emergency vehicles, rushing toward the Bishop’s home. The thick smell of smoke filled the air and Walter almost had to stop and catch his breath, but he persevered and continued moving until he finally made it to his house. He was relieved to see Olivia and Micah standing out front, along with a few other people he didn’t recognize.