by Amarie Avant
“No thanks needed,” he replied over his shoulder. He opened the passenger door and placed Raven in the seat then leaned over her to latch the seatbelt.
When he pulled in front of her home, Stephen said, “Raven ... I’m going in your purse to get your keys.” She didn’t reply. Just let him think you’re smashed. He left the car, opened the front door, and came back. Taking care in getting her out of the car, he carried her into the house and to her room. Stephen laid her on the bed.
“Raven.” He tried to stir her awake. “C’mon, ReRe. You don’t want to sleep in tight jeans.”
Sighing after a moment of waiting for a reply, Stephen pulled the sheet over her and put his shaking hands underneath, unlatching the button on her jeans. Raven let her body go limp and be pushed and pulled with every move. He was even more bashful than Calum had been while she was fully sober. She peeked at him through her curled lashes, but when he finished, she closed her eyes. Warm and snuggly was how she felt when his eyes roamed over her body.
“ReRe, you’re gonna to tell me about Liam, bright and early tomorrow,” he finally said.
Raven’s chest rose and fell gently. She pretended to snore. His knuckles tenderly caressed her cheek. “I love you,” he said, before walking out.
Chapter 6
Head pounding, Raven’s first thought upon awakening was her financial situation. It was never about the money for her, and despite her mom’s beliefs, Raven had leaked the wedding photos just to be an asshole. She wouldn’t dream of sharing Trinity’s pictures.
Steel rods for legs, she got up to start her morning process. All while brushing her teeth, Raven concentrated on not slinking back to bed and hiding beneath her feather duvet. After washing her face, Raven was moisturizing when she realized there were no cartoons blaring from downstairs. The faint scent of brown sugar pancakes meant that Annette must have taken Royael to the park across the street.
The doorbell chimed.
She grumbled, stepped back into the bedroom for fuzzy slippers, and then descended the steps.
“Open up, Raven. I spoke with Annette across the street. I know you in there.”
Back leaning against the door, Raven imagined the night before. Stephen had reminded her of what Liam used to be. My rock … She wished he hadn’t saved her.
The doorbell rang again. Biting her lip, Raven turned around, unlocked the bolt, and turned the knob. Stephen and rays of December sunlight entered the dark living room. Her eyes closed momentarily.
“Nice to see you, too.” He brushed past her and took a seat on the couch. “And you’re so very welcome. I was driving home from a twelve-hour shift when your friend called me yesterday. Now, who is he?”
“Hey, Steve. And if you gave me a damn chance, saying thank you would’ve been the next step.” She sank down into Grandpa Otis’s lazy boy.
“Don’t play with me, ReRe. Who is Liam?” When she rolled her eyes, he added, “I’m your friend. I thought we were going to sidestep our issues?”
We don’t have any issues. We’re BFFs. “Nobody important,” she said drily.
“Liam is Royael’s father, isn’t he? The man who made you empty inside. He’s the reason you think you can’t be loved. Then you go wasting time with William. Man, I still can’t wrap my head around y’all’s relationship.” He shook his head
“Stephen, please.” I don’t need the drama today. Her finger traced the cracks in Grandpa Otis’s leather chair, and she glanced at Stephen as he nodded his apology. Placing his hands behind his head, he leaned back and waited. She sighed, hoping she could trust the man.
Raven tugged her plump bottom lip through her teeth as she felt Stephen’s gaze piercing into her soul. Hands on the armrest, Grandpa’s chair gave her the comfort to tell him the truth. The whole truth.
***
Sitting on the side of Royael’s bed, Raven sang their special song. Her daughter’s eyes drooped, ready for a nap. She slowly stood and couldn’t stop herself from leaving a soft kiss on Royael’s forehead before tiptoeing toward the door. The soft voice calling her name made Raven turn back around. Lips pursed, she knelt back on the floor.
“Are you still sad?” Royael yawned.
“No, beautiful. How could I ever be sad? I am the luckiest woman in the world to be your mom,” Raven said, and she meant it. Knowing that Royael was a cranky little diva without her nap, she offered, “If you go to sleep now, I’ll take your picture later.”
“Okay, Mommy.” Royael yawned, amber eyes beginning to shade. “I have to do my job and make Mommy happy.”
Her daughter’s words moved her heart as Raven descended the stairs. She closed her eyes to quell the tears beginning to form. She stepped into the tiny kitchen where Annette was marinating pork chops.
“Thanks so much, Granny … for today.”
Placing the seasoning on the counter, Annette glanced into her glossed eyes. “Raven, this too shall pass.”
Raven nodded with a weak smile. They weren’t rather touchy-feely people. Usually working alongside each other in the kitchen was her granny’s favorite kind of quality time, but it seemed Annette had more to say.
“You check in with Dr. Stanton?”
Raven’s eyes brightened. If a person hadn’t known Annette when they crossed paths with her, they saw God in her. Regardless of how quickly they were introduced. Annette was one of those Southern Christians, where therapy clashed with their beliefs. When Raven began to see Dr. Stanton, Annette had gotten out the Bible.
Raven slowly nodded. “Yeah …”
“Go rest, ReRe,” Annette said, aware that her granddaughter needed a moment. Raven’s suffering from PTSD was still a touchy subject. Annette gave a wry smile and wagged a finger. “And don’t you be leaving any more of your coffee shop tips in the cookie jar. I went to sneak my weekly Madeleine cookie a little while ago, and only thing there was the little bit of money you have after those darn pageants. So, no need wasting it on a fat old bitty like me. If I was going to take those diabetes pills …”
“Then you’d buy them yourself,” Raven huffed. But you can’t afford to pay for the prescription. “All right, Granny, I won’t do it anymore.”
Before Raven could cuddle into the worn lazy boy, the doorbell rang again. She went to answer it. Composed, she opened the door to Sharon. Is this be-truthful-to-a-friend-day?
“You look like a hot mess.” Sharon sat on the same spot Stephen had claimed a few hours ago.
Raven looked down at her comfy slippers. She also had on her hoodie and sweat pants. “Well, thanks, Sharon. You’re killing it as always.”
“Damn straight.” Sharon grinned. Not necessarily a looker, she accessorized to a T. Sharon rummaged through her snakeskin purse and smacked a business magazine down on the coffee table.
Raven legs went momentarily weak as she took a seat next to her friend. Magazines were scary, horrid monsters. Familiar hazel eyes stared at her. Liam Lemaître was on the cover. Her gaze traveled over a royal-blue, tailored suit, cufflinks twinkling with diamonds. Handsome. Muscular arms folded. Confident. Blond hair tousled in a manner which made him him. Charismatic. Chin high, perfect lips curved into a smile. Arrogant.
“Read it,” Sharon said. When Raven didn’t make a move to take the magazine, Sharon snatched opened it to a page that already had an ear-fold. “Jonathan Liam Delacroix Lemaître Junior—Good God, how many names does this asshole need! Anyway, and I quote, ‘Legacy to the golden umbrella, Delacroix Corporation … Opens Delacroix Hotel USA corporate branch … new sky-rise in Dallas … multibillion dollar mogul, his grandfather Pierre Delacroix has handed him the key to the Delacroix Hotel kingdom!’” Sharon paused. “Must I continue?”
“Sharon, just go home and take that with you.” Raven stood up. “We can get together some other time. But don’t come back with that.”
“Girl, sit! You ruined our usual Thursday happy hour with that foolishness. We’re gonna get his slimy ass.”
“Do you not recall how I j
ust got accused by my own mother of ‘pimping’ out my baby half-sister? Selling baby photos for a fucking paycheck. How low should I feel for some foul crap I would never do?”
“I’m not even going to get on the subject of Char. Taking the wedding pictures was … Well, we just knew each other from college. I never would have really spoken to you if you hadn’t taken those pictures, because your too fucking introverted, so oh well. Now back to you, when is the last time you smiled? And I don’t mean because you forced me to tag along to one of those damn Kevin Hart movies.”
Raven willed herself to smirk at the joke, to come alive as far as a facial expression, but it was no use.
“The reason you smile isn’t even five feet tall.”
Raven thought about her baby girl.
“Yeah, The Diva makes you smile.”
It was all true. There were only two reasons for Raven to smile. One involved a wide, stiff, exaggerated grin when Royael was on a pageant stage. Raven always modeled a hard grin as a reminder for her daughter. The other times were the real deal, when her child won Natural or Glitz, or anytime Royael smiled.
“You’re going to tell Liam that you know somebody who works for Scandalous. Liam can confirm it’s me.” Sharon pointed to herself. “However, he won’t know that I already know about his family secrets. He’ll give you enough money to pay for your school, Royael’s school—hell, enough for her to attend college, Annette’s bills. Whatever you need, and honey, y’all do need.”
“What if he doesn’t give in?” Raven’s eyes flitted to their scrawny Christmas tree and the few gifts underneath. And despite promising not to help Annette pay for any more medication, that was a request Raven had no intention of keeping.
“What if, what if, what if! He’s rich. The affluent only recognize reputation. If it gets out that Liam Lemaître had a baby with his half-sister, it would be the talk of the town. I mean, all the way from the US of A to France. So it would behoove him to act like he got sense!”
Chapter 7
January
She’d tried to reach out to Liam before Christmas but heard that he went to France for the holiday. It was now mid-January, and a stream of workers flocked in and out of the Delacroix building. Raven reviewed the lobby directory and saw Liam Lemaître as Director of Hotel Creation. Clutching her briefcase, she blended in and trailed onto a large elevator. The noisiness decreased a notch at each level as employees exited. Alone, Raven stepped off at the top floor. Her heels clicked on the floor, mimicking the beating of her heart as she passed rows of French doors. Scanning the gold signs, she stopped at the right door—Liam’s door.
Her hand went to the knob, and after a cleansing breath, she opened it. A vast display of orchids and stargazers added a touch of femininity to dark marble statues in the receptionist area. A gray-haired woman sat at the desk with a gold nameplate which read Patricia Ackles.
Giving a smile, Raven said, “Hi, I’m here to see Liam.”
“Mr. Lemaître is a very busy man.” Patricia looked Raven up and down, unimpressed, judging by the frown on her face. “You’ll need an appointment.”
“Well, unfortunately for him, I’m amped up on courage.” She headed toward the double doors. I might never come back if I leave now!
“Ma’am, I said you can’t go in there. I’m calling security!”
Raven could almost feel the secretary spit the words as she grasped the double doors with both hands and opened them. Remember to breathe.
Yards away, Liam stood at a full window, back to her, talking on the phone. When he turned around, she stopped. He was taller than she remembered. Intimidating.
The business magazine hadn’t done him justice. She’d stared at it for hours, hoping to find a flaw. Now, as she stood just inside the doorway, she didn’t know what to do or say. She watched him round the corner of his desk. The bridge of his nose complemented a face of perfect symmetry. Gold skin due to Creole linage he’d inherited from his father’s side. Biceps bulged under his shirtsleeves—powerful, like he could pick her up and toss her out. Hell, out of the universe!
And then he glanced her way.
Fuck, I looked into his eyes. Liam’s amber gaze held Raven captive. How long have I been standing here? Their eyes magnetized; his leaving her speechless and lost. Stop, Raven. Take a breath and stop looking into his eyes! Damn you.
Two suited men stood at either side of her, tugging her arms. The connection she had with Liam snapped as she was tugged away.
“Get your hands off me!”
“Raven?” Head cocked to the side, Liam stepped closer.
“You don’t remember me?” Raven asked. The men stopped; all three looked at Liam, brows raised. She wondered if she was just that forgetful.
“Let her go,” Liam said, coming to his senses.
“Mr. Lemaître, allow me to just pat her down,” one of the guards said.
“Just let her go. Despite her size, she’ll hurt both of you if you don’t,”
His demeanor was serious, commanding even as he rounded the desk to his chair. “Lil’ Raven, always so feisty.”
She watched the guards close the door behind them. Turning back to Liam, she disregarded his request for her to sit, needing the height factor to make five foot two feel … bold. Jutting her chin, her commanding tone made her feel five five. “You’re going to help me with my—our daughter!”
“Daughter?” Liam sank into his seat.
“Yes, our daughter. I want you to help me with her.” Raven stepped past the white couches. “Financially.”
“Financially?” He rubbed a hand over blond hair.
“All that education, yet you don’t understand, Liam? I want help with Royael.” His inquisitive face made her lose momentum. Five two again.
“Royal, what? You’re crazier than I remember.”
“Our child’s name is Royael. You wouldn’t know that, though.” She let her fingertips rest on his desk, leaning forward as spirals of hair framed an icy gaze. “I’ve been paying for dance classes, clothes, food, everything! I guess I gotta get crazy with you,” she warned, noticing her words didn’t seem to penetrate.
“You look pretty crazy standing there.” Liam looked at her balled fists, eyes twinkling. “Should I call security back?”
“That’s how it gotta be?” She took a seat on top of the sleek desk, crossing her legs. She felt five ten and had seen the stance in a movie. Keeping up calm appearances, she pulled back a silver ball from the swinging pendulum, watched it clink back and forth. She breathed through her mouth. His scent already embraced her. Calming. Teasing. Angering. Envying.
He placed a hand on the phone, eyebrow cocked.
“We can go there if you want, Liam. Before you dial security, I should warn that I am great friends with one of the editors of Scandalous magazine.” Voice soft as satin, Raven peered into Liam’s eyes. It was safe, now that she had all his attention. She breathed in the scent of fear. Inside, she was well over six feet and had the upper-hand!
He took his hand off the receiver.
She smirked. “Thought so. I’m sure you don’t want anyone to know our little secret.”
“Hmmm …” Liam laced his hands behind his head and leaned back for a second, taking in that pout of hers. Then his hazel eyes narrowed. “I do not like threats, Raven Shaw.”
“Oh, yeah. Well, I didn’t like your letter saying our baby is a freak of nature. You’re an asshole. You thought I would abort my child because you didn’t want her.” She hopped off the desk, putting her hand on full hips with all of the confidence of a giant. “Royael is the most beautiful, fun, loving, energetic … She’s everything that any father would want in a child. Except for you.”
Raven fed off his guilty-as-sin façade. He no longer had that cocky allure. He had that little-fat-Liam-from-the-seventh-grade look about him. Uncertain, out of control.
“Royael deserves a better life.” Looking around the marble flooring, she remembered leaving her briefcase outsid
e. Instead of losing momentum, she snatched a sticky note off his desk. She scribbled on it, flicking it in his general direction. “Put some money in that account for Royael.” And then you can proceed through life without us…
Chapter 8
Liam sat in his chair, a chair made by a luxury Italian car design firm. It always made him confident, helped him handle business associates who attempted to play hardball. The fabric molded to his body. Right then, his chair did nothing to ease his anger from watching a perfect rose with thorns make her grand exit.
Liam let her name roll off of his tongue. Unconvinced that it was real, he glanced to the cognac snifter at the bar. I haven’t had a sip today.
Jaw tense, his mind flashed back to her time-stopping beauty. Her blue eyes had turned into a gray storm as she ranted. In my office!
At first, he’d been amused, hypnotized at her forbidden golden-toned thighs when she sat on his mahogany table. Forget about her attitude. He almost laughed when she’d mentioned Scandalous magazine. If she’d done her homework, she’d have known Delacroix Communications owned it and the complementing television show.
The letter almost made him snap. “I’d never infer that my child was …” There was no fucking way those awful words she’d used would ever pass his lips. He’d loved Raven, proposed to her—so it was with an antique spoon ring from Pierre’s collection—but he’d promised to get her something better later.
“I was going to leave my life for her and our baby. This is the thanks I get!” He walked to the silver cart, picked up the drink, and downed it. Liquid fire seared his throat, warmed his body as he remembered the cold letter she wrote. “I just can’t have a baby with you …”
Each word wove through his brain like a disease as he picked up the crystal bottle and poured another glass. Hell, she’d even added some biblical scripture and finished the story with she was sorry, but she wasn’t keeping it.
About to pour his third, he stopped. He didn’t want to be drunk. Drinking wouldn’t help him forget how he’d cried reading that letter, how he had torn it up, burned it to a crisp. The ashes, the evidence, had dissipated in the lake at the meadow. Their meadow. The very meadow she was supposed to meet him at to run away. I should’ve gone to the meadow that night. No, I should’ve beat on her bedroom window and demanded she keep my child.
