Driving Heat (23 page)

By noon the three-person search party—Byron, Cynthia, Mr. Carter—had all landed in Las Vegas. Byron rented a car and then immediately headed to the hotel where Douglas was informed Aaron was staying. On the way, they discussed the best way to approach the sullen young man who’d not returned Douglas’s calls and as of ten o’clock this morning had stopped answering his brother’s calls as well.

“I definitely shouldn’t be the one who calls him,” Byron said, clutching the wheel the way he wanted to Aaron’s throat as he navigated the crowded streets of Sin City. “Maybe you should call him, Daddy. That you’re Leah’s grandfather isn’t a guarantee that he’ll be more respectful, but he might at least listen to what you have to say.”

Cynthia, who sat in the front passenger seat, nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Mr. Carter took in the passing scenery as he rubbed his chin. “I don’t know about that. Leah didn’t call me back and that’s rare. It hurt my feelings that she’d treat me that way.”

“Please try and not take it personally, Mr. Carter.” Cynthia offered a sympathetic smile. “Leah’s actions are all because of conflicting emotions and those she’s still grappling with regarding her brother’s death.”

“I know. It’s just hard to see a child . . .” The man, who in the moment looked older than his fifty-five years, ran a weary hand over his face. He then sat up and clapped his hands together, as if the gesture could chase away his melancholy mood. “Never mind all that. We’re here to get my granddaughter and bring her back home. I’m here to do whatever I can to make that happen. Cynthia . . . tell me the game plan one more time.”

Twenty minutes later, the trio pulled into the parking lot of the Downtown Grand hotel, located ten minutes from the strip and less than a mile away from the city’s famed Fremont Experience. However, none of them was focused on entertainment possibilities. And truth be told, Leah wasn’t all of their singular focus either.

Byron dropped back to let his dad enter the hotel first, and remained behind to walk beside Cynthia. “What’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“When we met at LAX, I could tell you were upset about something. Don’t tell me Leah either. Because I know it’s more than that.”

“I could say the same about you,” Cynthia whispered, before placing a smile on her face as Mr. Carter turned back to them.

“Everything all right?” he inquired, looking from Byron to Cynthia.

“Everything’s fine, Dad.”

“As long as whatever you two are conspiring about is legal, I won’t press.”

Cynthia stopped several feet from the front desk. “All right, guys. Just hang tight while I go to the front desk and see what information I can ascertain. I’ll be right back.”

The two men watched Cynthia walk away. Mr. Carter turned to Bryon. “That’s a real nice lady right there.” Byron nodded. “By that look in your eye, though, I guess you already know.”

Byron cut his eyes at his father before his lips twitched and a grin escaped.

“Y’all got something going on?”

“We’re friends.”

“Uh-huh. I watched you at the block party, saw how you got a little perturbed when your brother pulled her away to introduce her to the neighbors. Can’t say I blame you, time for you to settle down. I’d fathered all five of y’all by the time I was your age, and basically adopted Ava.”

“Yeah, well, thank God I’ve only got one so far.”

“Yes, indeed, son. Thank God for that.”

His father’s relief reminded Byron that he hadn’t heard from Tanya or his lawyer in about a week. As soon as this situation with Leah was over, he’d have to deal with a woman of whom his father had never approved about a potential child Mr. Carter knew nothing about.

On the other side of the lobby, Cynthia’s credentials and position as an intermediary of sorts between her and the legal system had given her the access she needed. The hotel manager had confirmed that an Aaron Smith had indeed checked in and had been accompanied by a young woman who looked like the picture that Cynthia had showed her. While not providing their room number, she had connected her to the room via a house phone. Cynthia nervously tapped her nails on the table by the phone, praying someone would answer.

The phone rang to the point where Cynthia was sure no one was in the room. Just as she was placing down the receiver, she heard a voice.

“Yeah.”

“Hello, Aaron?”

Pause. “Who’s this?”

“My name is Cynthia Hall. I’m Leah’s counselor. How’s she doing?”

“How’d you get my room number?”

Cynthia ignored the young man’s brash manners and stayed focused on the end goal. “I didn’t,” she said as pleasantly as if Aaron, also known as Redman, wasn’t totally out of line. “Once I explained the seriousness of the situation, and the very real possibility that Leah leaving the state might send her to jail, the desk clerk connected me to your room via the lobby house phone. May I speak to her, please?”

“The lobby? You’re in Vegas?”

“Yes, I’m in the lobby of the Downtown Grand.”

Cynthia waited as the sound of muffled voices came through the phone. While not able to make out the words, she could tell from the tone that neither Aaron nor Leah was too happy about her surprise visit. They’d be even less thrilled to know that she was not alone.

“Hey, look, uh . . .”

“Cynthia.”

“Yeah, Cynthia. I wish you’d called before you drove all the way down here because I could have told you that, uh, Leah wasn’t with me.”

“Really? Then who is?”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but that’s none of your business.”

“And I don’t mean to be rude, but I think you’re a liar.”

“Look, I don’t even know you. So this conversation is a wrap—”

“I have news for you as well, Aaron.” This sentence came out as one long word, so quickly did she speak before he hung up the phone. “I did come for Leah, but I also needed to talk to you.”

“What do you need to talk to me about?”

“About the laws and statutes in the state of California, where at the age of seventeen Leah is still a minor, and under the guardianship of her mother. Now, I have managed to get Leah’s mother, Ms. Thompson, to hold off on filing charges, but if Leah is not returned to her residence within twenty-four hours, you’ll be looking at some very serious offenses.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Leah is here because she wants to be here!”

Amazing how certain words could make people invisible seconds before magically appear. “She may be here of her free will, but not with the permission of her legal guardian. Which is why if Ms. Thompson doesn’t see Leah by this time tomorrow, you’ll be facing charges of sexual assault. Because you’re more than three years older than Leah, this will more than likely be handled as a felony, punishable by up to four years in state prison. Now, is Leah still not available or is there anyway she can come to the phone?”

After an hour of negotiations—where Cynthia convinced Leah to return to Los Angeles, Aaron to lose a bit of attitude and give Leah’s uncle and grandfather deserved respect and Byron not to turn the hotel lobby into a boxing ring—the two agreed to come down.

Forty-five minutes after that, Leah got off the elevator. She was alone.

Cynthia noted the tightness in Byron’s jaw, and the way his eyes drifted past Leah to the elevator. “Where is he?”

She placed a calming hand on his arm. “Hello, Leah.” She forewent the more formal handshake greeting and enveloped the clearly confused, vulnerable, and frightened child in a warm hug. “Thank you so much for agreeing to come back with us. Your mother has been worried out of her mind.”

“You knew she’d be worried. How many times have we told you to return calls, no matter what!”

“Sorry, Uncle Byron.” She dropped her head as if contrite, but Cynthia didn’t think she was sorry at all.

“It’s going to be all right, Granddaughter.” Mr. Carter walked over and placed an arm around Leah’s shoulders. She turned into his chest, and cried. “Now, now, you just get it all out. You’re safe and that’s all that matters.”

During this exchange, Cynthia shot Byron a warning look. The look he returned didn’t give her much comfort. Still, she saw him try to relax before he spoke again. “Leah, where is Aaron?”

“He’s not coming down.” Given his reaction, Cynthia was truly glad he didn’t respond to this comment. Her chin began quivering. “He said we can’t be together anymore until I turn eighteen.”

The disgust with which she made this statement assured Cynthia that her assumption was right. Her client was angry, not sorry. Either way, she was in the lobby and going back home.

“Everything works out for the best,” Cynthia offered. “Part of the conditions for your probation is that you finish school. Time apart from Aaron will allow you to focus on your summer courses and receive your diploma. Graduating high school and beginning college courses is the most important thing right now for you to do.”

Leah was obviously not convinced.

Cynthia gently steered Leah away from the hotel entrance and led them a short distance toward the bank of elevators. Once out of the hearing range of Mr. Carter and Byron, she placed her hands on Leah’s shoulders. “I know how you feel about Aaron. Every woman breathing, who’s past the age of . . . twelve, knows what it’s like with that first special crush, or kiss, or love. It took courage for you to leave the hotel room and come with me.”

“He didn’t want me to. But he didn’t want me to go to jail and I didn’t want him to go to jail either.”

“Leah, even though you’ve agreed to come back with us, you still violated the terms of your agreement and are not out of the woods. I’ll do everything I can to keep you in counseling rather than in jail. But from here on out, I need you to do something.”

Cynthia paused, waiting for Leah to look at her.

Finally, Leah did. “What?”

“I need you to do everything you can to get through these ninety days, your summer classes, and to graduate high school. Before I go to bat for you . . . do we have a deal?”

After a pause, she nodded.

“Good.” Cynthia looked up to see the two Carter men watching them intently. “I think we’ve kept your grandfather and uncle waiting long enough. Let’s rejoin them.”

“Can I ask you something first?”

“You may.”

“Can you and I sit together on the plane, away from Grandpa and Uncle Byron? They’re both so mad at me that I know I’m going to get it from them later. But I can’t do it right now.”

“There’s something I’d like to discuss with you, so I have an even better idea.”

They walked over to where the two men stood. “If it’s all right with you two, I’d like to take Leah out for a bite to eat, take care of some official matters, and bring her with me on a later flight. I promise to deliver her personally at Ava’s door.”

Mr. Carter deferred to Byron, who gave Leah a long look before turning to Cynthia. “I guess that’s all right.” He looked back at Leah, who averted her eyes. “Stop looking at me like you’re three years old and scared of a spanking. Unfortunately, you’re too old for that. And even though I’m angry enough to get back to LA on my own steam, I still love you, Leah. Very much. Now come give your uncle a hug.”

Leah gratefully walked into his arms. Byron looked over her head and winked at Cynthia.

She winked back, and smiled.

Cynthia gave Ava one last wave before getting into her car and driving away. It had been a long, exhausting day, but a fulfilling one. It was moments like this and clients like Leah that was her sole reason for getting into what for people in her circle was a very unlikely career. When she’d opted for a degree in sociology it was because while she hadn’t decided on a career choice, this degree offered many paths: law, government, politics, advertising, business, etc. Upon graduation, she was leaning more toward advertising and marketing, which is why her choice for a master’s degree was business administration. It was during those lonely days and heartbreaking nights at her great-aunt’s house, when she felt completely abandoned and cried herself to sleep, that those thoughts changed. In those dark moments, she vowed to do everything she could to help other young women who’d dared to be human and make a mistake not endure a similar experience.

Driving away from Ava’s home and reflecting on the day’s experience, more life-altering decisions were forming. Ones that would take her farther away from a life of privileged society but closer to her heart’s desire. Making these decisions would have consequences and benefits. But given all that had happened in just two short months, Cynthia was ready to face the ramifications and receive the rewards.

Her phone rang. She looked at her dash and remembered the missed call she’d seen once taking her phone off airplane mode. Sooner rather than later, this situation would have to be dealt with. It was one of the life-changing decisions looming in her future.

“Hello, Stewart.”

“Hello, Cynthia. You sound . . . strained.”

“It’s been a very long day, one that’s just now ending. I see I missed your call.”

“Yes, you did. But I’m glad to hear your voice now.” Said in a way that at one time would have wet her panties. Cynthia refused to be sidetracked. She was thirty-one not twenty-two, and no longer a fool.

“I assume you’re calling concerning Jayden. I agree that steps need to be taken to establish a relationship with him. It’s a busy time on my job, a lot going on, so why don’t we talk this weekend, say, Friday evening?”

There was a beat of silence before he responded. “Sure, what time?”

“Jayden and a few of his friends have a standing overnight play date on Friday. It usually begins with dinner, so he’ll either get dropped off or picked up around six-thirty. I know that’s a bit late on the east coast, but—”

“It’s okay. Call me at six-thirty. Until then my sweet C—”

Cynthia ended the call in a way that was not sweet at all.

 

 

As soon as Tanya walked through the door, Byron knew that agreeing to meet her had been a mistake. It was seven o’clock on a Wednesday evening at a brightly lit, highly trafficked, kid-friendly good old Micky D’s. Tanya was known for dressing sexy, but the loud red tank top showing more breast than it covered up was totally inappropriate for . . . well . . . any place public.

Tanya was oblivious. Swinging ample hips that framed a butt round enough to give the moon competition, she sat down with a saucy smile. “Hey, baby.”

Byron settled against his seat. “Why’d you come here dressed like that?”

“What? Everything’s covered and that’s all that matters. I can’t help it because I’ve got so much sexy it’s spilling out of my clothes. You used to not have a problem with it.”

“I wouldn’t now, except you’re my daughter’s mother, and therefore an example. What would you do if you saw her in something like that?”

“I’d tell her she’d better appreciate what her mama bought her.”

Byron shook his head. “Look, you asked to speak in person. I’m hoping it’s about the paternity case, so here I am. Have you set a date to get tested?”

Tanya looked around. “Why’d you pick this of all places? All bright and loud and stuff. Let’s go somewhere quiet and have a drink.”

“That’s what got me Tyra—someplace quiet, and drinking.”

“I’m good, huh.”

“I’m on the route early tomorrow, Tanya. What’s this about?”

“Dang, where’s the fire? You suggested the cheapest place on Crenshaw and still haven’t offered to buy my food. You’re slipping, dude.”

“Would you like something to eat?”

“Yeah,” she drawled. “But it’s not on the menu.”

Byron reached for his keys. “Something told me not to come here. I don’t have time for games.”

“Sit down and slow your roll.”

He did, begrudgingly. She heaved a sigh. Had he been a betting man, he would have put twenty on the chance of patrons seeing a nipple. He would have lost. Her large melons rolled and swayed with her breath, but settled back inside the two fingers of cloth hiding them before exposing herself to the young boy sitting near them and messing him up for life.

“I have a confession.”

“Okay.”

“I lied.”

“About?”

“About little Ricky. He’s not yours.”

Byron stared at her. “See, that’s the problem with liars. It’s hard to believe them, even when they act like they are telling the truth.”

“Whatever. I’m being truthful, okay?”

“Really? Like you were being truthful about you kicking Rick to the curb when the truth is he’s set up house with another woman?”

“He did that to piss me off because of how I acted after the block party. He saw how finding out you were seeing somebody made me feel.”

“Oh, and decided to go make a baby to get back at you? That makes sense.” He shook his head.

“Because of that and because he heard me tell someone that you were little Ricky’s daddy. He knew I’d drop him in a heartbeat if I could get you back.” She raised her eyes, gave him a sexy gaze through long, thick individual lashes that looked freshly applied. “You still seeing that girl you brought to the block? Because I heard she’s one of them Benjamin stitches, the ones who you can’t even step to unless he’s got a big presence in your wallet.”

Byron took in her flawless makeup, perfectly manicured hands, meticulous weave, and waxed, arched brows. For a woman who claimed to never have money, and except for the bazookas threatening escape, her look was on point.

“Who I’m seeing is none of your concern. The only business between us is Tyra and the paternity test that I still want taken.”

“Why? I said I was lying and that makes me feel bad enough. Why pay all that money to have a test done? Heck, I could use that money.”

“Tanya, what is this, the third or fourth time you’ve done this? First, when you were pregnant. Then, when you and Rick broke up right after little Ricky was born. Y’all got back together. I didn’t hear from you. Two years ago, you were at it again, and now we’re back for another round. I don’t want to take your word on something this important. I want an official answer so we can settle this once and for all.”

“So, you’re not going to call your attorney and get him to pull the case on this, or have it dismissed, or whatever they do?”

“No, I am not.”

“I know why you’re trippin’, but whether or not you’re little Ricky’s father is not going to help your situation. A high-maintenance chick like the one I heard you were with ain’t gonna settle for your sorry bus-driving ass.”

That comment was a sayonara note if ever Byron had heard one. He finished his soda and reached for the keys. “Answer the court order, Tanya. The testing center already has my DNA. All they need are yours and your son’s to test. I’m not going to let this go, so you might as well go on down there. That way you’ll have one less reason to deal with this sorry-ass bus driver.”

Upon leaving the fast-food establishment, he pulled out his phone, barely waiting until he’d cleared the window through which he was sure Tanya sat watching. There was no thought that he shouldn’t call her. The only thing that would be improper is if Cynthia didn’t answer the phone. Tapping her soothing, smiling face, he clutched the phone like a lifeline, as though hearing the voice on the other end would pull him back into reality from the twilight zone.

“She lied. Again.”

Three words formed by a mind only now acknowledging the impact similar words had on him moments before, how a few letters organized into a word and those words into a sentence structure could change, transform, impact a life—raise or ruin—based on the slightest change in a letter’s position, or the adding or subtracting of same.
You are the father. You are
not
the father.
Three letters, the lack thereof had changed many lives, including his. The paternity test would confirm her words, but in his heart he knew they were true.

“Byron?”

“Yeah.” He started the car and was soon in the thick of Crenshaw traffic. “She lied.”

Silence as Byron imagined Cynthia trying to figure out the riddle, even as he tried to piece more coherent sentences together while remembering to breathe.

“Are you talking about Tanya? You’re not her son’s father?”

“No!” There it was, relief masquerading as air, rushing through his lungs and expanding his rib cage. “Woohoo!” His shout was loud enough to get the attention of the woman in the car next to his at the light. He didn’t care if he could be heard in Arizona. Finding out that one didn’t owe a huge amount of child support, almost ten years future and eight years past if a judgment was retroactive, was like winning the lottery. When people hit the jackpot, they screamed.

“Woohoo!” He laughed and clapped his hands, so much so that the woman in the car next to him smiled and gave a thumbs-up as the light turned green.

Cynthia laughed as well, his joy infectious. “I guess congratulations are in order.”

“You’d better believe it! I’m going through with the court order to make it official, but I believe she’s telling the truth this time. And come Friday night, we’re going out to celebrate.”

“I’d love to, but I can’t. The promotion announcement will be made any day now. Unfortunately, I can’t be seen with you . . . in public.”

“I’m going to give you a pass for what you said because it now sounds like you’re not opposed to meeting behind closed doors. But before we get together, there’s something I want to know. Is this change of heart an acknowledgment that what we have is a connection worth pursuing and a relationship that could last? I don’t want to get with you only for you to tell me later there’s another conflict of interest that has you on the run. I’m handling one situation that’s been a constant battle for almost ten years and I don’t want to start another one. Nor do I plan to keep getting bounced back and forth like a ping-pong ball, or have my love for you taken for granted.”

A million thoughts drifted through the silence before she responded. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve handled us. There are many reasons, but I offer no excuses. I have been on the run, and gone back and forth based on my waffling feelings. Again, I am sorry for the anguish that dealing with my pain caused you. Believe me when I say that given my life’s experiences, I was doing the best I could at the time.

“Since meeting you, I’ve been shown another life, for me a better life. Nothing has been the same since the day my car broke down and I got on your bus. Everything about my being attracted to you was impossible, and I worked hard to get you out of my system. That’s hard to do with a man who loves his family immensely, treats a girl who isn’t even his real niece like a daughter, is raising his daughter, faces down a gun to save my honor, plays my music box like a Julliard-trained pianist, and cherishes me in a way that I’d never experienced. Have I left anything out?”

“Probably, but I like how what you’re saying so far is sounding, so don’t stop now, baby girl.”

“I have had a change of heart. I believe ours is a connection worth pursuing. I admit we are in a relationship, one I want to see continue. I don’t know how this will affect my bid for agency director but will have to take my chances and hope all works out. Finally, when I think of you and balls, it’s not ping-pong.”

“Ha! Is that it?”

“No, there’s one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I love you, Byron Carter.”

“I love you, too, Cynthia Hall.”