Page 23 of Almost Paradise

“Uh, do you have a question, Mr. Paradise?”

“Mr. Paradise is my dad. I’m Drake.” He stares into my eyes again, leans closer, and wipes the corner of my mouth. “Icing,” he says as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to put his finger so close to my mouth. He looks down at the ball of his thumb, then puts it in his mouth and sucks it. “Mmhmm.”

My mouth hangs open and his eyes lock with mine. I put a hand to my throat, and the office suddenly feels stifling. “Um, your question, Drake…” I find that I like the sound of his name.

“I was wondering if you could help me put my information in the system. I want to make sure I get it in right,” he says. He lowers his voice as he says it and walks to my side of the desk. He stands so close that I can smell his cologne. I inhale and take him in. God, he smells good.

Did he mean to say get it in or was that a slip of the tongue? I clear my throat, determined not to give that particular question any more thought.

“Of course. I’ll need two forms of identification.” He pulls out his wallet and hands me his driver’s license and social security card. He pulls out my chair for me, and when I sit, he grabs another chair and sits so close, I swear, he’ll be able to hear the beating of my heart. I let out a little giggle when I look at his license.

“You’re not laughing at my picture, are you? It rained that morning, and I had a bad hair day.” He inches closer. Now, I can smell his shampoo too.

“It’s not that.” But I do look at his hair. It’s cut short just like in the picture. “We have the same birthday. Not the year, but the day.” I clear my throat, feeling silly for saying that.

“Do we?” He drapes an arm across the back of my chair. “I bet we have a lot more in common.” He has private school and private plane written all over him.

“I doubt it. So, uh, this is the database. On second thought, you should have gotten sign-in instructions so you can set up your profile and fill out all the new hire information. It’s pretty self-explanatory once you log in.”

“You know what, Nia? I’m clueless about these kinds of things. Can you meet me in my office later and show me? I’ll give you a call when I’m ready.” Stunned speechless, all I do is nod like a dummy. He grabs a sticky note and a pen. “Write your number here.” I scrawl my office number and wonder why he can’t just look it up in the directory.

“Just dial the last four digits to get my extension.” I point at my phone. “You can also send me an email.” I write my work email address below my extension and give him the sticky note.

“How about your cell phone?”

“I don’t have a work cell, only a personal,” I tell him. He stares into my eyes and hands me back the pen and paper.

I take it and write my cell phone number down because when the future CEO of the company you work for asks you for your number, you give it to him. Once he takes the paper from me, he pulls out his own phone and types something. My phone buzzes in my top drawer. I open it and pull it out.

It’s a text, and all it says is, ‘It’s Drake. Call or text me anytime.’

“I’ll see you later.” He stands and walks out of my office, leaving me feeling flustered and unbalanced, but strangely intrigued.

Now

“Mommy!” Carter comes running into the kitchen like the house is on fire. He jumps on my lap and into my arms. “Daddy says he has pwesents and went to get them in the car.”

Of all the things I told Drake, I forgot to tell him not to spoil Carter. He’s already spoiled enough by other members of my family. All he has to do is ask, and he receives, but unlike Drake, my family doesn’t have unlimited amounts of money.

I wish instead of going to get presents, he’d get in his car, drive away, and never return. At least that’s my wish until I look at my son’s face and see his smile. He’s already infatuated with his father. If Drake were to leave now, it would hurt Carter, and that I can’t have.

A few seconds later, I hear the other boys talking over each other. It’s not a fight though. This is excitement. So, I carry Carter to the living room just in time to see Drake return with two big shopping bags.

“I got stuff for you boys too. Everything’s labeled with your name.” Carter kicks his legs and I put him down. I expect him to make a mad dash for the bags, but he doesn’t. He goes and wraps himself around Drake’s legs. He picks him up, and my son kisses him on the cheeks and hugs him tight.

I look away. I’ve always wanted this for my child, but I’ve been so angry toward Drake for so long, I don’t know how to process it now that it’s here. So, I don’t. At least not right now. I turn away from it all and walk toward the kitchen.

“Nia, can I speak with you for a minute?” Drake asks. I stop midstep. I don’t know when he decided to follow me, but he’s behind me. He’s so close I can feel him breathing.

Audrey, who’s still leaning against the wall hears him. She’s by my side in an instant.

“In private,” he adds.

“I don’t recommend that, Nia,” Audrey says. “Remember he can’t be trusted.”

“Please, don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” I tell Audrey, annoyed by her presence and unfair characterization of me.

“This is a friendly meeting.” I don’t know when Wyatt got so close, but he’s behind me too. I finally turn to face them.

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