For the Love of Alex (23 page)

“It’s Mandy and Ella,” one of the fake blondes clarified.

Deverson laughed. “Oops. You can’t expect me to remember the name of every man or woman who graces my home.”

Clearly he liked both, as a man wearing just a towel around his perfectly defined waist walked into the room with a steaming cup of coffee. “Kurt, can you take Ste…the ladies into the game room? I need to have a talk with my friends here.” Kurt winked at Deverson before each blonde draped one of his arms and followed him out the room.

Deverson sat on his couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table. “Sorry I made you wait, but I didn’t expect the early-morning house call and I was still entertaining my guests. I didn’t want to be a rude host, especially when I was having so much fun entertaining.”

“I need to talk to you about Alex’s letter.” Any patience Leah had tried to conjure escaped her when she realized she waited for thirty minutes in a lobby while Deverson engaged in an orgy with two women and another man. The man was a gluttonous pig, but he might be the only one who had answers to her questions.

“Ah, no pleasantries. You jump right into the main plot. Why so angry, ma petite? You look like a pregnant pit bull ready to sink your teeth in my jaw, and not in a pleasurable way. Usually I don’t mind teeth, but I think you might actually hurt me. I can’t imagine why, unless you’re mad that I made you wait, but then I should be mad that you stormed into my private home without the courtesy of a phone call or permission of any kind. Considering I pay your salary, you would think you would show a little more deference to me and a lot less hostility. A man like me does not usually accept uninvited employees in my private home first thing in the morning, but I figured you would show up sooner or later once Marcus showed you Alex’s letter. I see you have questions and I might be willing to answer them, but first I would suggest you lose the temper, darling. Otherwise I might just ask you to leave.”

Leah wanted to lash out at him, but he was right and she was very wrong. She hated admitting that even to herself, but there was no denying it. She had no right to be here and the fact that he even allowed her any of his time was graciousness on his part. If she wanted answers from him, she had better acknowledge that kindness and stop acting like a petulant child.

“I’m sorry. I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me. I don’t mean to be rude. I just didn’t expect to see that letter from Alex. No one has seen him in weeks, and out of the blue you get a letter from him intended for me? How is that possible?”

Deverson pressed a button on the side of the coffee table and a few seconds later an older woman in a gray uniform appeared. “Mimi darling, I need a shot of espresso, or rather a double. Please get some herbal tea for the pregnant pit bull and a regular coffee for her mute sidekick.”

This was no time for humor, but Leah knew if she were to look at Marcus’ face she would surrender to a fit of inappropriate laughter. She didn’t enjoy being compared to a pit bull, but it was certainly better than being referred to as the mute sidekick.

“Now, you two be seated. Both of you standing there like statues make me uncomfortable. Relax. Once I have a sip of java I will explain everything.”

More waiting. There was no other choice, as Deverson was calling the shots.

Mimi returned a few minutes later with their drinks and Leah gratefully drank the tea. It was just what she needed, even though she wouldn’t give Deverson the satisfaction of acknowledging that. She didn’t need to.

“Feel better now, darling?” he asked. “That tea should calm those raging pregnancy hormones of yours.” He turned to Marcus. “I would ask how your sidekick was feeling, but then he would have to speak and that might be too much for him. Nod if you are okay, Marcus.”

Marcus tensed. “I’m fine, Deverson. Thank you.” If looks could kill, Deverson would be bleeding to death on his white leather couch.

“Good to hear,” he mocked. “I’m just teasing you, Marky. Don’t be so sensitive. Now Leah, you want to know how I got the letter from Alex. It’s complicated. First I need to tell you a story. I know that may require more patience than you have so sip your tea, stay calm, and listen.”

Leah had no choice. Strangling him was not an option. She sipped her tea and sat back in the chair, waiting for Deverson to explain.

“When I met Alex the night of my cocktail party, I knew right away he was an addict. Call it junkie intuition or addict radar, but I knew. For a moment I was mesmerized by his heavenly beauty. I mean, the man could be a Greek sex god. I was in awe of him. I can see why you love him. He could be etched in stone. The guy is really…”

“Yes, he is beautiful,” Leah agreed, hoping to get Deverson back on track. This was definitely going to be a long and painful morning.

“Yes, well, I was shocked by his looks, but then I really saw him. Behind the baby blues were the eyes of an addict. My eyes used to look like that. I remember that time very well. As I talked to Alex and he confessed his past addiction, I knew immediately that his addiction was very much a present problem for him. Then he mentioned you were having a child and my heart broke for the both of you, because I knew there would be no future for you. There is no future when your lover is having an affair with drugs. That’s one adulterous affair guaranteed to not end well for those caught up in the destructive triangle. Then you guys left abruptly and I let it go, even though it still bothered me. I don’t know why I cared so much. I usually don’t care about anyone other than myself, but there was something about you two that touched me. I loved the way you two loved even in the midst of hurt. I admired that love and it stuck with me long after you left my apartment. I can be a cynical bastard at times and a whore most other times, but even the hardest of hearts can’t help but look at you and Alex and wish for one moment they could feel that kind of love. I didn’t want to see drugs erode something so precious and rare. In a moment of weakness, I reached out to Alex. I found his number through your employment records and I left him a simple message. ‘When you are ready to live, call me.’ It took several weeks, but he finally called and I went to see him in the hospital.”

Leah was speechless. Alex had reached out to Deverson when he was in the hospital recovering from his overdose. Of all people to call, he reached out to Deverson, whom he barely knew.

“I don’t understand why he called you. Even if you offered, why would he call a virtual stranger?”

“A stranger perhaps, but a fellow addict—and that was what he needed at the time. Someone who understood him.” Deverson’s tone changed and the casualness he usually displayed was gone. No longer did he speak with the faux French accent. He was the man from Boston who had survived its dangerous streets and somehow managed to transform his life from one headed to certain death to one filled with prosperity. “You see, Leah, he wanted help, but he didn’t believe he could be helped. So I went to see him and I told him a story. The story of a young man from Boston who got mixed up with the wrong crowd and started using methamphetamine. His mind was lost in the need for meth. He spent years smoking meth, chasing the white dragon. He looked like death on legs. He was homeless, alone, and desperate. He prostituted himself around like a pathetic manwhore. Anything to get high. He stole from his parents until they finally disowned him. He burglarized his own grandmother’s house, nearly causing the elderly woman to die from fear. He terrorized his family and friends as he lost himself in drug-fueled meth rages. Finally, one night, the police found him sitting naked in the snow nearly frostbitten, but unaware of where he was and what had happened. He had been sodomized and beaten and he was too high to even remember any of it. That was officially rock bottom.”

Leah gasped. She could not imagine this man in front of her so immaculately groomed who carried himself with that air of elitism had grown up in such a manner. She couldn’t picture him as a miserable addict, homeless and destitute.

“How did you survive? How did you turn your life around?” It was hard to believe anyone could transform from that desperate state to a successful entrepreneur.

“I had a guardian angel. One of the officers who found me helped me. He convinced me to go into a program and helped me find one. He took pity on me. I don’t know why. No one had ever helped me before. Anyone who was nice to me was only nice because they wanted me to do something illegal or sexual. This cop was just kind for the sake of kindness. I didn’t think people like that existed. But there I was. A nineteen-year-old kid who would have died alone in the streets but for the act of kindness of one stranger. I went to rehab twice, got clean, went to school, got several degrees and worked my little ass off until I made something of myself. I made my first million when I was twenty-eight and I used it to buy a home for the man who gave me one when I was just a sorry addict prostitute living on the streets.”

And finally Leah understood why he reached out to Alex. He was helping Alex the way someone had helped him. Paying it forward. “That’s why you helped Alex.”

Deverson nodded. “He’s a good kid, but he’s broken. You can’t put him back together. Only he can fix himself.”

Leah had learned that painful lesson. No longer did she believe her love could save him. Only Alex could save Alex.

“Where is he?”

“Upstate NY. There is a rehab facility there that I started years ago. It’s good, if I do say so myself. I arranged for Alex to go. He’s in a ninety-day program and then there is an aftercare program, a kind of sober-living program to teach him how to cope with life without the aid of opiates. I know it may seem like a long time, but Alex’s addiction is serious. He’s been on drugs for so long that he doesn’t really remember life without drugs being a part of it. From what he shared, I don’t think he ever had a moment where drugs were not a part of his life, and he may never. It’s his demon for life. That doesn’t mean he will be an addict forever, but drugs will not be something he can easily escape. That’s why the intensive program was recommended for him. He’s eager to get better. He said that for the first time, he really wants to get better. He’s not just doing it for you or for the baby. He’s also doing it for himself, and that’s why I suspect he will make it this time. Your email came at the right time. He had just completed detox and was not doing well, which is typical, but your email seemed to reignite his motivation. He has been focused and determined ever since he saw it.”

Leah was overwhelmed. Alex was getting help and someone she barely knew was the one making it all possible. She thought she would hate this man and now she owed him her future.

“Can I see him?” she asked, trying to keep her emotions controlled.

“Not now. No visits until the ninety days are up. You can email him, and if he continues to progress he will be allowed the occasional phone call. I know it may sound like prison, but Alex needs to learn to depend on himself. You’ve been his crutch, as well as his parents. Not intentionally, but you’ve enabled his addiction. You have let him get away with hiding from his problems and not facing his demons. Alex has his fair share, but he can’t move on until he can reach a point where he’s not always looking back.”

Leah knew in heart this was what was best for Alex, but she hated the idea of ninety days without him. At least there could be email and possibly soon she would be able to hear his voice on the phone. Maybe there was a chance he would be there by the time the baby was born. Even if he could not be there, it would be okay if he at least emerged from rehab healthy and sober. That was worth any sacrifice. This might be his last chance.

Leah looked at this flamboyant, quirky man in front of her with awe. There was no way to repay this act of kindness. She would be in his debt forever. Even if Alex didn’t make it, at least Deverson gave him a fighting chance, and that was more than she could have hoped for from this elusive stranger who generously helped someone he barely knew. Yet in many ways he knew Alex quite well. He could reach him in ways she couldn’t. Deverson understood Alex’s struggle and Alex needed that support.

“Stop looking at me like I am a knight in shining armor, ma petite.” Deverson had found his French accent again. “I am no saint. I am not even that good of a guy most days.”

Leah no longer believed that and she would slug anyone who ever said that about him after all he’d done for her and for Alex.

“Did you ever reunite with your family?” Leah couldn’t help but be curious about this man she thought she understood but who turned out to be an enigma.

For a moment there was hint of sadness in Deverson’s eyes, but he brushed it off quickly. “No. My family could not forgive me for my sins of the past, but I made a new family. The cop—Officer McDowell—his family became my family. They unofficially adopted me as one of their own. I still spend time with them. Officer McDowell passed away two years ago, but I spend time with his widow, his children, and his grandchildren. The day he died I vowed to him that they would never want for anything, and I have kept that promise and I will until the day I die. Even then I will make sure they are always provided for. Nothing I have now would have ever come to be without Officer McDowell. I would have just been another dead junkie teenager. Forgotten and buried in some unmarked grave.”

“I can’t thank you enough for what you have done. I apologize for misjudging you and for being rude.”

Deverson’s flashed his twin dimples. “Silly girl, you were probably right about me. Regardless, the image I project to the general public is the image I want people to see. My reasons are my own. Only a few folks know Grant from Boston. I want to keep it that way. Most of these fools I socialize with only need to know rich and privileged Deverson with the bad French accent. I expect that you will not do anything to ruin my reputation as a megalomaniacal, egotistical, and idiosyncratic playboy who is sexually fluid and open to just about anything. I pride myself on being a rich pig. Don’t ruin my reputation by painting me out to be some nice guy with a caring heart who helps others. We have enough sanctimonious Mother Teresa wannabes in the world. What we lack are devils like me to make the world more fun and entertaining.”