Best She Ever Had (9781617733963) (24 page)

“I thought when we were together you were on the pill!”

“I was”—Cynthia paused—“kinda. I was never very good at taking it all the time, though.”

Korey closed his eyes. His hands fell to his sides.

“I wanted to tell you, Korey! I did! But then I found out that you were going to marry Vivian and I thought I had lost you anyway, s-so . . .”

“So I thought I might as well stick with Bill.”

His shoulders sank.

“Korey, please see it my way. I thought you had cheated on me with Vivian! I couldn't go crawling back to you. I was already engaged to Bill. I didn't know what else to do! I thought I would . . . I would just have to get over it and move on.”

He finally opened his eyes. When he did, she could see so much fury in them that it scared her. “Move on with my child, you mean.”

“But we don't know that for sure! Clarissa might not be yours, and I didn't want to open a can of worms unless I knew for sure. Plus, you were away. You had your own life and I had mine! I didn't know you didn't cheat on me! I didn't know you'd get a divorce and move back to Chesterton! How was I supposed to know you would come back?” she cried hysterically. “How was I supposed to know Clarissa and Jared would meet each other and fall in love? I had no idea this would happen, Korey!”

His nostrils flared as he balled his fists at his sides. For a split second, she thought he was going to hit her, but he didn't. He unclenched his fists, took a deep, steadying breath, and faced his son.

“Jared, I want you to pack up all your stuff and meet me down in the lobby in thirty minutes.”

“I've committed incest,” Jared muttered dully. “I'm going to
hell!
”

“Jared, did you hear me?” Korey snapped.

Jared blinked and looked up at his father. “Huh?”

“Pack your things and meet me downstairs in thirty minutes.”

Jared frowned. “But—”

“No buts! If I don't see you downstairs in half an hour, I'm coming back up here to get you myself. And heaven help you if I have to do that.”

Korey's tone and face must have shown how serious he was about following up on that threat. Jared hastily nodded and stood up from the bed. He walked to the corner of the bedroom and grabbed a black suitcase.

Cynthia watched as Korey turned and walked out of the bedroom. She trailed behind him, following him into the suite's living room.

“Korey!”

He didn't stop his angry strides. She sniffed, reached out, and touched his shoulder.

“Korey, please wait. I know you're—”

“Don't touch me,” he said menacingly as he whipped around to face her. “Don't you
ever
touch me again, you selfish . . . manipulative . . . psychotic bitch! Or I swear I'll . . .” His jaw tightened. “I should have known hooking up with you again would only lead to this shit! You're fucking toxic!”

“I didn't mean to hurt you,” she said as she wept. “Please, believe me! Really, I didn't.”

“Oh, bullshit! That song is so tired! You suspected
all
these years that I was Clarissa's father and you didn't say a damn thing! Not one damn word! No wonder you were so freaked out about her and Jared hooking up! Well, you didn't stop it! They had sex! Now all of us will have to go to therapy!” He turned back around. “Stay the hell away from me!”

He then stalked out the room and slammed the door behind him.

Cynthia slowly walked to the suite's sofa and sat down. She stared bleakly at the wall. Honesty was the best policy—or so the saying goes. So why had things blown up in her face when she finally told the truth? Why had she fallen in love only to have her heart broken all over again?

I
t was a warm, luminous day outside the glass walls of Yolanda Gibbons's sunroom, but the mood inside was far from sunny. The room was relatively quiet, with the exception of the sound of cutlery clinking against porcelain, the soft tinkling of glasses, and the occasional clearing of someone's throat. No one talked. Most rarely looked up from their meals to gaze at one another and instead seemed totally engrossed with their bacon, eggs, and cups of coffee.

Yolanda glanced around the table at her guests, sat back in her rattan chair, and folded her arms over her chest. She slowly shook her coiffed, curly head.

“Well, is this a Saturday brunch or a funeral, I ask you?” she murmured, her voice echoing in the quiet room.

No one responded.

“So is this what I have to look forward to from now on?” Yolanda persisted. “Just the sound of my own voice?”

“We're all dealing with a lot right now, Mama,” Lauren explained, taking a hesitant glance at her husband, who seemed to be avoiding her gaze. “None of us are . . . well, none of us are really in a talkative mood.”

Particularly Cris . . . He hadn't spoken to and barely looked at Lauren for the past couple of weeks. She supposed she deserved it. She had picked a fight with him, and now it looked like she was the cause of all his troubles. She and her family probably would be the reason Cris would lose the mayoral election.

They still didn't know who had created the “Chesterton Scandals” Web site, though Lauren had her suspicions that Mayor Knightly was the mastermind behind it. But who had done it was irrelevant. Whoever had created the Web site had achieved their purpose. The gossip mill was churning full throttle in Chesterton thanks to the site's debut. Old rumors were being whispered again, and the focus seemed to be less on how great a guy Cris was and how great a town leader he would be, and more on the unsavory exploits of Lauren and her sisters. Mayor

Knightly had said that Chesterton needed a mayor
and
a mayor's wife who represented traditional values, community, and a sense of morality. Someone had made it abundantly clear that Lauren didn't fit the bill.

Meanwhile, Cynthia and Clarissa were dealing with their own fallout from their disastrous trip to Las Vegas a few weeks ago. Mother and daughter were barely on speaking terms, Clarissa was no longer returning Jared's phone calls, and Cynthia had received a terse letter from Korey Walker's lawyer requesting a blood test to prove paternity. They were currently awaiting test results.

The family was still stunned and confused at the news that Korey could be Clarissa's father. No one had heard of the man before a few weeks ago, though Dawn vaguely remembered hearing Cynthia mention a boy of that name a few times back when they were teenagers.

“But I don't remember her saying anything about seriously dating him,” Dawn had said over the phone a couple days ago. “I certainly had no idea he was her baby daddy!”

Lauren gazed across the table at Cynthia, who was making a poor show of pretending to eat her brunch. Lauren shook her head in bewilderment. How had Cynthia managed to keep such a big secret for this long? Doing something similar would have eaten up Lauren from the inside out.

“Like you've never kept secrets,” a voice in her head ridiculed. “You keep secrets from Cris all the time! He still doesn't know why you're really angry at him.”

She lowered her eyes at the Chenille tablecloth. No, he didn't, and that made her feel even worse. She promised him that she would always be honest with him, and once again, she was breaking that promise.

“Well, I hope everyone's mood improves soon,” Yolanda proclaimed as she tossed aside her linen napkin and pushed back her chair. She rose from the table. “Because I swear I've gotten more laughs and conversation at a wake!”

With that, the brunch had ended. The maids collected the last of the half-eaten plates of food and tepid cups of coffee. Stephanie, Dawn, Cynthia, and their respective families mumbled their good-byes before shuffling out of the sunroom. Lauren, Cris, and Crisanto Jr. were the last to leave. When they did, Lauren paused at the corridor leading out of the sunroom to speak with her mother.

“I'm sorry today's brunch was such a bust,” Lauren said as she cradled her slumbering son to her chest.

Yolanda adoringly ran her hand over Cris Jr.'s head, then shrugged. “Oh, it's fine. I know how it goes. You and your sisters worry too much about things that'll be taken care of with time. You must get it from your fathers, because you certainly didn't get that worrywart gene from me.”

“But things won't just be ‘taken care of,' Mama. It's not like any of us can wave some magic wand to fix all this stuff. Cris could lose the election! Cindy doesn't even know who's the father of her child, and—”

Yolanda held up a hand, closed her eyes, and nodded. “All these things will be settled with time, Laurie. Trust me. I've been through enough paternity suits to know not to get in a tizzy over it. And as far as the election, well . . .” She opened her eyes, inclined her head, and smiled. “Everyone will get their justice due. You'll see. Don't worry.” She patted Lauren on the shoulder. “Now you two drive carefully. Don't forget to take some leftovers with you.”

Lauren walked away from her mother, sighing in exasperation. Of course Yolanda didn't think any of this was that big of a deal! Whenever she had a problem, she simply had one of her men write a check or make a phone call to fix it. But none of the fixes would be that simple this time.

 

Ten minutes later, Lauren and Cris drove in their Aston Martin in silence back to their home a few miles away. Lauren glanced in the rearview mirror to find Cris Jr. still slumbering quietly in his car seat in the back. She then glanced at her husband. He looked tired. On impulse, she reached out and placed a hand on his knee to comfort him. To her surprise, he reached down and placed a hand over hers and squeezed it.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered, feeling as if those words were long overdue, feeling as if a massive weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

“Sorry about what?”

“About storming out of the bedroom a few weeks ago. About making you think that I was angry at you for meeting with Marvin and his wife when I was really just being insecure and frustrated with the same ol' . . . the same ol' small-town nonsense.” She let her head fall back against the leather headrest. “I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you—and honest with myself. I'm so,
so
sorry, Cris.”

“I just don't understand how you could ever think I would put Marvin Payton's opinion—or anyone else's, for that matter—above my love for you. I mean . . . damn, baby—”

“Say ‘doody',” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder at Cris Jr. “Remember, we said we would watch our language in front of him.”

“He's asleep,” Cris said tightly. “I'm not going to say ‘doody' when I mean ‘damn,' because ‘damn' is what I mean. What else do we have to go through for me to prove myself to you?”

“You don't have to prove anything!”

“So why are you still questioning me?”

“I'm not, Cris! I swear I'm not!”

He pulled his hand away. She watched him gnaw the inside of his cheek. He didn't look convinced.

“I'm . . . I'm questioning myself, like I always have.” She released a long, slow breath. “And it's getting so goddamn old.”

Great, now even
she
was cursing.

The car turned onto the gravel road leading to their mansion.

“I don't know what to tell you, Lauren. We've been through this before. You're not going to change people's minds. You're just going to have to accept that.”

“But it holds you back! They're turning against you because of me and—”

“And it's their loss! I knew that coming in, before I even agreed to run for mayor.” He glanced at her and then returned his attention to the road. “Look, you're my wife. We're a package deal. If they can't accept you, then they can't accept me. That's it!”

“Even if it means you lose the election?”

“Even if it means I lose! I don't give a fuck, Lauren!” he shouted, making her bring her finger to her lips. She pointed over her shoulder at their son.

“There are worse things,” he said in a lower voice, “. . . like finding out you're the father to a kid who you didn't even know existed.”

Lauren winced. She knew he was referring to Cynthia. “That's a low blow, Cris. Cindy didn't—”

“Didn't what? Didn't know she had been lying to the man all this time?” He curled his lip in disgust. “Come on, baby, I know you want to defend your sister, but even you have to admit that was some shady shit she pulled.”

“And she feels bad about it.”

“Yeah, I bet she does. Now that her ass got caught!”

“She didn't get caught! She doesn't even know for sure if he's Clarissa's dad! Besides, either way, she and Clarissa need our support. This is a very—” Lauren paused midsentence as her cell phone began to ring. She frowned, reached inside her purse, and pulled out her iPhone. She stared down at the name and number on the screen. “Speak of the devil. It's Cindy.”

“Satan herself, you mean,” Cris mumbled.

Lauren gave him the side eye, then pressed the green button to answer the call. “Hey, Cindy, what's up?”

“It's here,” Cindy answered. Her voice was tense.

“What's here?”

“The paternity test result!”
Cindy cried shrilly. “We just got it in the mail!”

“Uh-oh,” Lauren whispered, making Cris frown at her in confusion.

“What's wrong?” he mouthed. She quickly shook her head.

“Oh, God, Laurie, what if the results show that Korey's the father?” Cynthia sniffed on the other end of the line. “Girl, I am terrified to open this thing!”

“Give me a half an hour,” Lauren said. “I'm coming over there.”