Page 96 of Rebound

He puts the phone down and takes both my wrists in one of his huge hands. Then he lifts me off my feet like he does Jasmine sometimes. “I should toss you across the room like a rag doll,” he threatens.

“The only reason I’m not kicking your ass right now is because I’m hungry. After I eat, watch out.” He scoffs and kisses me again. “I love you,” I say, so grateful to him for seeing something in me and for believing in our family before I could.

“Yeah, I know. You moan it each time I’m inside of you. You’re obsessed with me. Not that I blame you. I’m pretty fantastic.”

Chapter 60

Seth

“Him?” I ask Coach as I crane my neck to look at Jimmy. Jimmy is not only his driver but personal security. “Don’t you need him for yourself? Besides, I don’t know if I want him around my wife. Look at him.” When Aiden looks at me in confusion, I whisper, “He’s too good-looking for his own good. That’s the type of guy Layla talked about wanting. The only thing he’s missing is the bald head. No way am I going to have him around her. I can smell the testosterone on him.”

“Not him specifically,” Aiden says. “Besides, he’s a professional and is engaged to Jeannie’s cousin. He owns his security company, and he can find you someone.”

“Okay, but I need whoever he finds to be ugly. No good-looking men around my wife,” I toss out. “I’m the only good-looking guy she needs to see on a regular basis.”

“Will you grow up?” Coach says. “This is serious.” He waves Jimmy over, and ten minutes later, my wife and daughter now have their own driver and personal security. Once it’s done, I get another lecture from Coach for waiting this long to do this.

I keep my mouth shut and take the lecture, but he needs to realize I’m not from the same world as him. He comes from money and influence, and I don’t. Having a bodyguard is foreign to me, but I agree that it’s needed from now on.

Once he’s done, and I’m assured the new guy will start tomorrow, I leave and return home to my wife. Jasmine is napping and the nanny is organizing her toys.

“You ready?” I ask Layla. I bend down and kiss her cheek while she works on the kitchen counter. “Why don’t you ever use your office?” I ask.

“I like having Jasmine as background noise,” she says. She locks her computer and stands. “Let’s go.” After saying goodbye to Dorothy, I take Layla’s hand so we can leave the house. “She texted a few minutes ago. She should be there already,” Layla says.

We are quiet on the short walk to a local coffee shop. I’m stopped a few times along the way, but I don’t have it in me to hand out autographs and chitchat today.

The coffee shop is full for the middle of the day in the middle of the week. I crane my neck, and I see a woman with an auburn afro and a nose ring. She looks at me and swallows nervously before she waves at us, and Layla waves back.

“I think that’s her,” she whispers.

“Good job, Columbo,” I tease.

“Who the hell is Columbo?”

I sigh. I guess unlike my father, her mother and Gaga didn’t spend their days watching daytime television and old reruns. “Let’s just get this over with.”

We take a few steps closer to Brandi, who has a table in a corner of the café. We sit down, and the three of us look at each other in awkward silence.

“Thanks for meeting with us,” Layla says, clearing her throat. “Can we get you anything?”

“Um, no,” Brandi says. “Caffeine makes me jumpy.” A shiver goes through her as she talks. She looks around the room appearing nervous. I look around too, in search of her mother. “She’s not here,” she says. “I wouldn’t do that to you. Besides, she won’t take my calls, and I have no idea where she is.”

“She hasn’t called your father?” I ask, and she shrugs.

“He says no, but I don’t know if I trust him. He’s her biggest enabler.” She clears her throat again. “A few months ago, I decided to go no contact with them both.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask why, but I hold back. Brandi lifts her cup to her lips with shaky hands. “It was a controlling and toxic household. We were homeschooled until high school. Dad was in the military and would be gone for months at a time, giving our mother full rein. When he retired, he insisted we go to a real school. My sister was very bright and excelled. She got a scholarship and was doing fine. I think she was finding herself and experimenting when she met you.” She points at me. “By then I was out of the house too, but college was not for me. Then Charlotte got pregnant,” she says, lowering her voice. “I was the one she confided in. She said she was going to terminate the pregnancy. I fully supported her.” She looks me in the eyes, daring me to say something.

“Please, continue,” is all I say.

“Mom found out. I don’t know how, but she did. After calling her a whore and countless names, Charlotte called and told me she changed her mind and wanted to give the baby up for adoption instead. When Mom found out you were the father, I think she saw dollar signs and told her it was her duty to raise the child God had given her. She was able to convince my sister to move back home so she could take care of her during the pregnancy. Charlotte was depressed the entire nine months, and being pregnant was really rough on her. She was sick a lot. It got worse after. I think she had postpartum depression but it went untreated. She dropped the baby off with me and I never saw her again. I got a call a few hours later saying she was hit bya truck, but I don’t think it was an accident.” She whispers the last sentence. Her eyes fill with tears, and she lets out a soft wail.

Layla reaches over and rubs her back.

“I’m so sorry,” Layla says.

“Me too. She was all I had and I miss her, but there’s something else. My parents filed a lawsuit against the company that owns the truck. There’s a pretty big settlement involved, and I think it needs to go to Jasmine. I called their insurance company and told them she has a child so they can put the money in a trust for her, but my mom’s been fighting it. I have the lawyer’s information for you.” She slides a card over to us, and I take it and put it in my purse. “It’s a seven-figure settlement. I know you don’t need it, but it’s something for Jasmine from her mother.”

“Layla is her mother,” Seth hisses so loud that Brandi leans back in her chair.

---