Despite his assurances, Jessica wasn’t convinced that Paul didn’t have someone else in his life. Now, having a child was more important than ever. If Paul did end up leaving her, at least she would have his child.
CHAPTER 26
Special Sharlene Moore felt herself falling and falling fast. She could barely concentrate enough to keep up with her day job, much less her investigation of Bliss Fenton.
Staring at the flowers on her desk, Special knew she had to slow things down with Darius. But the man was pouring it on like sweet-tasting syrup. Not just flowers, but love notes secretly dropped in her purse, romantic phone messages and the best sex on the planet. If she didn’t watch herself, she was going to find herself totally sprung.
Her cell phone rang and she smiled when she saw Darius’ name appear on the screen.
“How’s my baby?” He had the sexiest baritone.
“Great, now that I’m talking to you.”
They chit-chatted about nothing, then Darius asked if she was free that evening.
Special normally didn’t tolerate last-minute invitations, but with Darius, all of her long-held rules were being tossed out of the window. She enthusiastically accepted his invitation.
“And bring an overnight bag. No more excuses about spending the night. I want you in my bed tonight. All night.”
As she hung up the phone, doubt crept back in. In her mind, staying all night was crossing a line, moving from lightweight dating to a full-fledged relationship. Despite the fun she was having, Special still wasn’t sure where she wanted to take their relationship. She cared enough about Darius that she didn’t want to hurt him. It wasn’t fair to let things continue if she was ultimately going to turn tail and run.
She closed her eyes and pressed both hands to her face. What in the world am I doing?
Special arrived at Darius’ house at six-thirty and he drove them to dinner at the Warehouse in the Marina. They returned to his place just before nine and fell asleep on the couch watching an old Bruce Willis movie.
“We better get to bed.” Darius shook her awake. “I have an early meeting.”
He reached out for his wheelchair and hefted himself into it. She followed him into the bedroom, every step shrouded in nervousness.
“Which side do you sleep on?” she asked.
“The right, but take your pick.”
She walked into the adjoining bathroom and marveled at how large it was. There was a bench wedged next to the toilet, which she assumed Darius used to help position himself on the toilet. As she started removing her makeup, she couldn’t help but snoop in the medicine cabinet. She found a number of medications, but recognized only one: Viagra.
“So that’s how he gets it up. Men and their stupid peckers.”
When she was done snooping, she slipped into a black lace nightie. She decided against bringing her sexiest lingerie. She couldn’t risk giving the man a heart attack. Special eased open the bathroom door and was about to step back into the bedroom, when she froze.
Darius was sitting in the middle of the bed, his back against the headboard going through an odd routine of lifting his legs and allowing them to flop back onto the bed. Then he pulled them upward, bringing his knees to his forehead. She wasn’t sure how long she had been watching when he spoke.
“I go through this routine morning and night,” Darius explained. “Stretching out my muscles helps me stay flexible.”
“Oh, uh, I…” Special was embarrassed that she’d been caught staring. She stepped into the bedroom, but didn’t get into bed.
“Come here.” Darius patted a spot on the bed next to him. “If we’re going to be together, you have to know what my life is like.”
It took a few seconds before Special joined him, sitting down near the foot of the bed, instead of where he had indicated. She remained silent, both dreading the information he was about to share, but also hungering for it.
He grabbed his right leg and stretched it upward again.
“Most people give no thought to getting dressed or undressed. It’s a bit more of a challenge for me.”
She watched him remove his shirt, then ease off his pants, shifting from side to side as he slid them down one leg, then the other.
Special swallowed. She didn’t need to know everything all at once. She wanted to tell him that she had heard enough for now. The words, however, stayed stuck in her throat.
“Do you have any questions?” Darius asked.
“Um, how do you use the bathroom?”
“I basically had to learn to train both my bladder and bowels to void on a schedule.” He smiled. “But maybe we shouldn’t go there just yet. It’s not a pleasant subject.”
She watched him lean from side to side, lifting his bottom from the bed for a few seconds. He’d done that several times while they were watching TV.”
“Why do you lean sideways like that?” she asked.
“You can feel your bottom, but I can’t. I have to do this every thirty minutes or so to keep from getting pressure sores.”
She realized now that during their first date, when she thought Darius had been flexing his muscles, he’d actually been going through this exercise.
“Come here.”
She got up, rounded the bed and climbed in from the opposite side. The smile that tinged his lips told her he wanted to have sex. But what she’d just seen had killed any urge she might’ve had. Unfortunately, Darius was at full attention.
“Uh, do you have to take anything to get an erection?” She wondered if he was going to own up to the little blue pills she found in the bathroom.
“Oh, so you were snooping around in my medicine cabinet, huh?”
Special’s face flushed.
Darius laughed. “I can get an erection, but Viagra helps me maintain it.” He pointed at his groin. “See.”
Special tried to laugh, but she really wanted to turn and run. She had no idea how it would feel to have intercourse with a man who had no sensation below the waist.
Darius obviously sensed her reluctance.
“Hey, babe, I know this is a lot to handle. But I want you to know what’s up.”
Reaching over, he eased his hand underneath her nightie and meandered up her thigh. She tried to fight the growing arousal, but it was no use. After slipping into a condom, he then slid down until he was lying flat on his back. He motioned for her to climb on top of him.
“I don’t want to crush you.”
“You’re kidding, right? There’s no way you could crush me. What are you, a buck twenty-five?”
Special stayed put. “So can you still have an orgasm?”
“Yeah, sometimes. But tonight, I want to concentrate on you.”
Darius pulled her on top of him and kissed her. In no time, Special moved instinctively against him as he kissed her neck, rubbed her back, massaged her buttocks. At first, the stillness of his lower body unnerved her, but his hardness pressing into her, soon made her forget about anything except the rays of excitement surging through her body.
Lifting her nightie over her head, Special took the initiative to take him inside her, surprised at how anxious she was to engulf him. They moaned simultaneously and Special soon found herself lost in the sheer pleasure of the moment.
CHAPTER 27
Although Fletcher McClain usually professes to be busier than God, he arrives at my office within thirty minutes of my call telling him that his paternity test results had arrived. He wanted me to give him the news over the phone, but I insisted that we needed to either celebrate or commiserate in person.
Fletcher is standing near the window, not far from my desk. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”
I pick up the envelope and tear it open. “Maybe you should sit down.”
“I prefer to stand.”
I stare at the
first page and try to make sense of what I see.
“Well? The kid’s not mine, right?”
Fletcher is now standing over my shoulders, reading along with me.
There are three columns in the middle of the page. The first is a combination of letters that might as well be gibberish. The other two columns, which only have numbers, are labeled Child and Alleged Father. My eyes go to the bottom of the page and I see the words that answer our question.
The alleged father is not excluded as the biological father of the tested child. Based on testing results obtained from the analysis of the DNA loci listed, the probability of paternity is 99.9998%.
I look up at Fletcher. The color has drained from his face.
“She’s your daughter,” I say.
“Are you serious?”
I can see from Fletcher’s expression that this is truly a surprise. He paces a few steps, then falls into one of the chairs in front of my desk.
“I thought you were off your rocker with your stolen sperm theory,” he says. “But after thinking about it, I can’t be completely sure that I didn’t toss a condom in the trashcan or let Bliss take it off. We had a lot of lunchtime romps at the W Hotel. Once we were done, I’d usually be in a hurry to get back to the office. She would’ve had no trouble retrieving a condom from the trashcan without my noticing it. I bet that’s exactly how she got pregnant.”
I give him some time to digest this life-altering news.
“Well, the good part is you have a daughter. And I bet she’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, but unfortunately, I have to be tied to her psycho mother for the next eighteen years. Mia is going to freak.”
I have no comforting words to say, so I say nothing.
“Thanks for not saying I told you so.” I see worry lines on Fletcher’s face that weren’t there a few minutes ago. “Of course now I wish I’d told Mia about those turkey baster cases like you told me to. At least that would’ve given her some time to adjust to the news.”
“Do you still want to move forward with the lawsuit? It’s drafted and ready to go.”
“Absolutely. Now more than ever.”
“I have a process server on standby. He can have the complaint in Bliss’ hands within the hour if that’s what you want.”
“Do it.” His tone is defiant.
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk to Mia first? This impacts her too. You both need to weigh all the pros and cons. This lawsuit could mean a lot of unwanted publicity. Bliss could very well go to the media.”
“And what? Tell them she stole my sperm? I doubt she’ll do that. There are no cons worse than her coming after me for millions of dollars.”
“Are you sure Mia can handle the media attention?”
“If she can’t, she’ll just have to figure it out. I won’t let Bliss get away with this. Make that call. Serve that cunt now.”
I pick up the phone, give instructions to my assistant, and hang up.
“The process server is not far from Bliss’ neighborhood,” I tell Fletcher. “If she’s home, she’ll have the complaint within the hour.”
“How soon can we take her deposition? I want to hear her explain under oath how she got pregnant.”
“As soon as she files an answer to the complaint, I can serve her with a depo notice.”
Fletcher rises. “You asked me if Mia’s prepared for this. What I want to know is, are you prepared?”
“You hired me to litigate this case and that’s what I plan to do.”
“That’s not good enough,” Fletcher barks. “I’m not just hiring you to litigate this case. I want you to obliterate that bitch.”
CHAPTER 28
Bliss spent the early part of the day shopping on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. A trip to two of her favorite stores, Armani and Michael Kors, always brightened her day. She’d overdone it a bit, spending upward of three grand on a pair of shoes and three purses. But she wasn’t concerned about her dwindling bank account. With the additional two grand soon to arrive from Aiden’s father and the boatload of dough coming her way from Fletcher, money was the last thing she needed to worry about.
She had just put the key into her front door when a thin Asian man wearing a backpack walked up behind her.
“Ms. Fenton?”
Bliss glanced briefly over her shoulder. “Yes?”
The man shoved a large white envelope into the Michael Kors bag she was carrying. “You’ve been served.”
“What the—”
The man was jogging down the driveway before Bliss could even get a good look at him.
“What the hell!” Bliss stumbled inside, dumping her bags at the door. She rummaged through the Michael Kors bag and pulled out the envelope. She already knew what it was. Some useless motion filed by Joseph’s attorney to block her request for more child support.
When she ripped it open, the words on the first page jolted her.
Los Angeles Superior Court of the State of California. Fletcher McClain vs. Bliss Fenton.
She flipped through the thick document not quite understanding what it was. She went back to the cover page and the words in the far right column sent needles of shock straight to her forehead.
Fraud. Conversion. Intentional Infliction of Emotional Distress.
Bliss stumbled into the living room just as her nanny entered, carrying Harmony. Aiden and Jonas ran up to her, grabbing her around the thighs.
“Not now,” she yelled. “Anamaria, get them out of here. Now!”
The boys shrank away as Harmony began to wail. Anamaria ushered them out of the room.
Fletcher McClain had the audacity to be suing her.
Bliss grabbed a glass and a bottle of vodka from the kitchen counter, then stepped out on the patio and shut the glass door. She sank down into one of the patio chairs and tried to gather her wits.
After a big sip of vodka, she read every word of the complaint. Some parts confused her, but she understood the gist of it. Fletcher McClain was accusing her of stealing his sperm and was suing her for fraud and mental anguish.
She started to laugh. A deep-in-the-belly laugh that she couldn’t control. The lawsuit said nothing about defamation, which meant that Fletcher had probably received the test results proving he was Harmony’s father. Rather than accept his responsibility, he chose to file this bogus lawsuit.
Mia must have put him up to this, Bliss thought. If only she knew the whole story. Bliss couldn’t wait until her ex-yoga buddy found out the real deal about her seemingly faithful fiancé. Both of them were so selfish and money-hungry. Giving his daughter ten percent of his income was a pittance. But if Fletcher thought this lawsuit was going to scare her into short-changing her daughter—correction—their daughter, he was way wrong.
Bliss stalked back into the living room, retrieved her cell phone from her purse and dialed Jessica.
Her best friend was as shocked as Bliss had been when she learned what Fletcher had done.
“So what are you going to do?” Jessica asked.
“I’m going to fight like hell. Right after I hang up with you, I’m calling my attorney.”
Initially, the vodka had infused her with a warm boost of bravado. But by the time she’d ended the call with Jessica, her confidence had evaporated. Bliss never imagined that the mighty Fletcher McClain would do something like sue her for fraud. Could he actually get away with this? The last page of the complaint asked for millions of dollars in damages.
Bliss scrolled through her phone looking for Girlie’s number.
For the first time since filing the paternity petition, Bliss wasn’t just worried, she was scared.
CHAPTER 29
Instead of going back to his office after the bomb Vernetta had dropped on him, Fletcher asked Lester to take him to his favorite Hollywood dive so he could ge
t good and wasted. He knew that Mia was probably climbing the walls, waiting to hear the test results. But he couldn’t face her. Not yet.
Taking his regular seat at the bar, he signaled the bartender for a scotch.
Had he followed Vernetta’s advice and told Mia about those turkey baster cases when she first urged him to, at least Mia would be primed for this news. That would have taken most of the sting out of what he now had to do. He just never figured it would end up like this.
Picking up his phone, he saw four missed calls, two voicemail messages and three texts. All of them from Mia. Fletcher deleted the messages without bothering to listen to them. He couldn’t handle Mia’s whiny bullshit right now.
After a couple of hours, he lost count of how many drinks he’d downed. He stood, waited for the room to stop spinning, and made his way outside to his ever-faithful driver.
“You okay, boss?” Lester gripped his arm and helped him into the backseat.
“Nope,” Fletcher slurred. “I’m actually pretty messed up.”
“Why don’t we hit Denny’s for some coffee before I take you home?”
“Excellent idea.”
It was close to midnight by the time Fletcher made it home. He remained on the porch, giving himself an impromptu pep talk. Fletcher McClain was no punk, he told himself. Fletcher McClain always faced his problems head-on. Men with big balls did that. And Fletcher McClain had balls the size of basketballs. So bring it on.
He stumbled through the front door in his wrinkled shirt and scotch-stained pants, his briefcase in hand, his jacket folded over his arm.
Mia, still dressed in business attire, charged up to him in the foyer. “I was a nervous wreck! Why didn’t you return my calls? What happened? You should’ve—”
He walked right past her into the great room. “Be quiet.”
“Don’t tell me to be quiet!” She stayed close on his heels. “You look a mess and you smell like a liquor factory. You owe me an explanation. I need to—”
Lawful Deception Page 11
