Page 5 of Almost Paradise

He might not have a father, but he’s not lacking male role models. He’s crazy about his Uncle Ray and his grandfather. They’re also crazy about him and enable his mischievousness.

He looks up and waves at me. I wave back, blow him a kiss, and leave. I say hello to Ms. Dot, the owner of the neighborhood daycare, as I head toward the front door. She’s run it for over thirty years. She’s been here so long that me and my brother were both enrolled here.

I make the short drive to the home I grew up in less than five minutes later. This is where our parents raised me and my brother. There’s nothing but good memories in this house, and when they decided to move to a townhome, they gave the house to me and my brother.

It’s still early in the morning, only a little past eight. The skies are already gray, and the news is predicting snow this evening. Thankfully, my job is flexible and lets me work from wherever I want, but I do go into the office two to three times per week.

When I step out of the car, I see the same gray sedan that’s been sitting across the street for the past week. At least it’s been a week since I noticed it. The same bald white man is sitting in it, and I wonder what the hell he’s doing. He sticks out like a sore thumb. This is an all-black neighborhood, and it’s odd that he’s just sitting there. I pull out my phone and take pictures of his car. I go and stand in front of it and snap a few photos of his license plate. He notices me just like I intended, but he doesn’t react. He just sits there. After staring him down, I turn my back on him and go inside the house.

After brewing a strong cup of coffee, I log into my work laptop. I notice the newspaper when I sit down. My brother is the only person I know who still gets a daily newspaper delivered. He has it turned to the business section, and my stomach drops. Why does he feel the need to keep reminding me of this shit?

I’m never going to take his advice and seek out Carter’s father again. I already did that several times, and I’m no glutton for punishment. I got the message loud and clear. He doesn’t want to be a father. At least not to my son. I’m sure he’ll have other children when he gets married, but the idea is like acid churning in my stomach.

I look down at the newspaper, and it’s an article about Donald Paradise and his legacy. There are two family pictures and I make a gagging sound. One is of the core family and the other one includes Scarlett. I rip the article in half, ball it up, and toss it toward the trash can. I miss but I don’t care enough to go and pick it up. They might be worth billions, but they are still trash. They can stay on the floor where they belong. Maybe I’ll step on them throughout the day.

The part of my life that included Drake Paradise is ancient history. I hate everyone with the last name Paradise, especially Drake and his daddy. Despite what they portray to the world, they have no good qualities as far as I’m concerned. The fruit does not fall far from the toxic, rotting, hypocritical tree.

But your son is part of them, and he’s perfect.

My son is a part ofme, and they get no credit. I carried him. I went through the pregnancy with only the help ofmyfamily, and my brother and father are the closest father figures Carter has. That boy is one hundred percent Nash. Drake Paradise is a sperm donor and a horrible one at that.

As much as I try not to think about him, his family has been everywhere this week. When your family owns the largest construction company in the country, you tend to make the local news regularly. I remember sitting in my living room stunned speechless at the announcement of Donald Paradise’s death. They never announced he was sick.

I remember feeling numb at the news. There was a time I wished death on him, but when it became a reality, I felt nothing. There was no sadness, but there was also no joy. In fact, my feelings betrayed me, and I started to worry about howhewas feeling.

My phone dings and it’s a text from Ray of an article about the three-month anniversary of Donald Paradise’s death. The family donated a large sum of money for pancreatic cancer research. They also set up additional scholarships in his name for engineering, math, and architecture majors. They mention several put aside specifically for women and people of color. There are a couple of sentences about the Paradise Family’s long history of hiring minorities and funding scholarships.

It sounds nice. If only it were true. Fucking phonies.

At the end of the article, there’s mention of Scarlett Foley,hisfiancée. I remember her. Drake told me she was a family friend, and he was not interested in her. He swore he never was and never would be. Another lie.

Good luck to you in that den of vipers, girl. Better you than me.

“Enough about those snakes, Nia,” I say to myself. I plop down at my desk in my home office and get to work.

Work is another thing they took from me. I was working in the human resources department of Paradise Construction. That’s how I met him. It was a great job with a high salary and excellent benefits. Getting a job there is like winning the employment lottery, but that didn’t last long for me.

Was one benefit sucking the dick of the Paradise Heir in his office?

I clear my throat and chase that memory away. Once everything went up in smoke, I soon found another job at a local hospital. I’m doing the same thing but on a smaller scale. The benefits are still great, but I had to take a twenty percent pay cut. That hurt when I realized I was pregnant, and that Drake Paradise wanted nothing to do with me or the child I was carrying.

His loss because my son is fantastic.

But how long until Carter realizes he’s missing a father and asks you who he is?

I will never lie to my son. Even if it hurts him, I will always tell him the truth about his sperm donor when he asks. Since he’s only three, I know I have several more years. If I’m lucky, it won’t be until he’s old enough for me to explain why it’s not a good idea to go and find him.

I know that’s inevitable, though. I know as soon as he’s old enough, he’s going to find him and ask him why. Since his father is a public figure, it will take him no time to find out a way to contact him. I only pray that he doesn’t leave my son devastated and heartbroken. If he does that, I might have to find him and punch him in the teeth.

Chapter 5

Drake

I stare down at the file in front of me. I’ve memorized every word on every document. Carter Nathaniel Nash. She had my son and never uttered a word.

I flip the page and stare at the pictures my private investigator managed to get. There are a few of them leaving the house to go to his daycare. I was shocked to see Nia behind the wheel of a car. She didn’t even have a driver’s license when we met. She was scared to death of driving until I taught her.

“I’m not touching that car,” she whispers. “It probably cost a million dollars.”

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