Without Limits: A BWWM Collection of Passion and Desire, page 84
When the private investigator told her about Jacobi and Carrie, Emerson was totally relieved. It was hard not to constantly check his social media pages. He never posted anything about his wife or their African American daughter, but Emerson found herself going to his Facebook fan page and his Instagram anyway on the off chance he put up a picture of their little girl. One day she logged on a found out that Carrie Janssen had passed away. A brain aneurysm. Emerson’s heart was crushed for Jacobi and the little girl they’d named Melody. Her daughter had lost a mother for the second time.
She searched the internet for any details she could find about Carrie’s death. Finally. she came across a poignant photo of Jacobi holding Melody at the memorial service. Her baby girl was gorgeous. Her thick and naturally curly black hair looked just like Adele’s, but her rich caramel-colored skin and deep brown eyes were just like Emerson’s. The piece said Melody was autistic. Emerson automatically blamed herself for not having had prenatal care, but she was a kid who was clueless about what had been happening to her body.
Emerson printed the picture and kept it in her safe. She cried herself to sleep that night. And several other nights. But she wouldn’t let herself be that downtrodden teen who didn’t have a backbone again. She was going to push and become the best actor she could become so that maybe one day she could show Melody that anything was possible. Obstacles be damned. So there she was; the highest paid African American actress in television drama history. Too busy to work on creating a family while missing the one she’d never have.
Chapter Two
Jacobi fiddled with the cloth napkin on the table as he waited for Leigh to return from the ladies’ room. He tried to calm his nerves by studying the menu for the fifth time. He’d finally made up his mind as she came back. “Okay, no more delay. I’m going for the…”
Leigh held up her hand. “Do you really want to be on this date with me, Jacobi?”
He was a little thrown off. “Why do you ask that?”
Leigh looked at him over her eyeglasses. “You haven’t been present since we got here.”
“I’m sorry, Leigh. This is sort of strange for me.” Jacobi paused to take a gulp of his Diet Coke. “This is my first date since I lost my wife two years ago.”
Leigh slumped down in her chair. “Well, I feel a wee bit sheepish.”
“No, don’t. I didn’t bring it up because I thought it would be bad date etiquette. I’m sorry if I’ve not exactly been smooth.”
“At least there’s a reason for it. A good reason. I’m so sorry for your loss. If you’d rather call this off for now I’d completely understand.”
That’s exactly what Jacobi wanted to do, but he couldn’t bring himself to take her up on the offer. “I’m good. Let’s order and see where the night takes us.”
Their attempt at small talk was dismal until Leigh finally asked him if they had any children. He excitedly pulled out his wallet and took out a school photo. “Oh, wow. She’s a pretty little thing.”
“Thank you. Her name is Melody, but her mama always called her Melody Cool because Carrie loved all things Prince.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t get the reference.”
“Prince. The Artist Formerly Known As. Graffiti Bridge?”
“Is that a Prince song?”
Jacobi fought the urge to crawl under the table. “Melody Cool is a character from the movie Graffiti Bridge that Prince created.”
“Oh.” Leigh suddenly became interested in her menu again.
They both settled on Chicken Marsala and Caesar salads. The server collected all the menus. “Would you like another Diet Coke, sir?”
“Yes, but would you please add rum?”
They talked a little bit about the bookstore where Leigh worked. That’s where they had met when he was looking for a gift for his agent. He knew she loved biographies of old Hollywood stars. Leigh had helped him. She was a truly attractive woman. Auburn locks and green eyes. On a whim, he’d invited her out to dinner. Maybe just to test the waters. He wasn’t a player or a prude. He loved romance, but he knew it would be hard to get back into that mode after Carrie. His wife had been everything to him. Quirky and intelligent. One day she’d dye her hair jet back with platinum blond streaks and another day she’d rock a royal purple mohawk. She was a dedicated music teacher who cherished her students. And she loved him and Melody.
They were both glad to see the server approach with their meal. The food was indeed delicious, but Jacobi and Leigh both pretended it was so good they couldn’t pause to continue the conversation.
When the server returned to check on them, Leigh ordered tiramisu. “Please pack that to go.”
After the plates were collected, Jacobi took out his wallet again. “I can drive you home if you’d like. I feel that’s the least I could do.”
Leigh smiled. “Jacobi, don’t worry about it. I appreciated dinner and you are a good guy. You never know until you try, but there’s no connection here.”
“No, there isn’t. But I at least wanted it to be a cool evening out. Epic fail there.” Jacobi hung his head and placed his hand over his heart.
“It wasn’t a total wash. As a matter of fact, it’s been better than a lot of dates I’ve had lately. Now that’s an epic fail! Enjoy the rest of your night, Jacobi. Maybe I’ll see and Melanie at the bookstore.”
Jacobi didn’t even bother to correct her. “Yes, you just might. Get home safe, Leigh.”
She thanked him for the meal again and pranced away with her container of tiramisu. Jacobi paid the bill and walked the two blocks to where his SUV was parked. He just wanted to get back to Brooklyn so he could put his little girl to bed.
As soon as Melody heard the key in the lock, she ran to the door. “Be careful, sweetie.” Constance, her nanny, called out.
“Daddy!” The diminutive ten-year old jumped into Jacobi’s arms.
“Hey, Lady Cool.” He hugged his daughter and kissed her forehead.
“Did you have fun, Daddy?”
“Not as much as I have with you. How about we do the next chapter of your library book before we have to return it?”
“Okay. It’s in my room.” Melody ran off the get the book.
“Everything good, Constance?” Jacobi asked as he pulled off his jacket.
“We made spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. She got a kick out of rolling the balls.” Constance answered as she picked up the toys she and Melody were playing with.
“That’s great. Thank you for showing her that. She’s really taken to you.”
“She’s a lovely child. I’ve worked around Special Need children for years. Melody has her moments, but they’re nothing I haven’t helped another child through before. She’s actually a hoot.”
“She picked up her mother’s sense of humor, for sure. I’ll be up for a while if you want to take off.”
Constance tried to stifle a yawn. “I’m just going to head upstairs and get some sleep, Mr. Janssen. Have a good night.”
Constance was good to the family. Carrie took care of Melody herself and she taught near the school their daughter attended. However, after she died Jacobi realized he was going to need some help. He traveled a lot as a stuntman and he wasn’t always able to take Melody with him. He contacted an agency and a few independents in search of a full-time nanny. He chose forty-year old Constance due to her experience with caring for children with disabilities. He’d arranged the top floor of their brownstone into a small private apartment so Constance could have privacy. The relationship had been working out wonderfully for over a year.
Melody had her book and followed her father into the den. They climbed onto a giant bean bag and settled down to read for a while. After just a couple of pages, they had both fallen fast asleep.
Chapter Three
After a long rehearsal, Emerson and her friend and co-star Briannie Combs went to blow off some steam at the gym. They played sisters on Justice for All. Opia Babbett had been an only child, so Emerson embraced having a fictional sister and a close real-life pal.
“Sonny, are you ready to hit this track?” Briannie stretched and reached down to her toes.
“If I have to tell you one more time to stop calling me Sonny!” But she laughed because she knew Briannie was going to keep on calling her the annoying nick name. “And yes; I’m ready to dust you on this track.” She took off running while Briannie was still stretching.
When her friend finally caught up, they slowed down and began to walk briskly instead.
“Ugh. You always find a way to try and kill me in this place.”
“I’ve been a work out fanatic for a minute. Just bringing you up to speed. Besides I know you want to look all kinds of sexy in that gown you got to wear to the Emmy Awards.”
“I’m still on cloud nine that our show was even nominated. And even though they haven’t recognized you with a formal nomination, we all know the show’s success is due to you. Sonny.” Briannie playfully punched Emerson’s shoulder.
“It’s an ensemble cast. I’m a main character, but I don’t make this show good all by myself.”
“Your modesty is so cute. And refreshing. I’ve worked with some divas who don’t even deserve the title!”
“Well you know diva behavior is not my bag.” Emerson’s cell phone rang. She saw it was Quentin again. She started not to answer it, but her curiosity got the better of her. “Hello, Quentin.”
“So you kept my number. My girl. I have a little proposition for you. Really it’s a huge proposition. Do you know who Melody Janssen is?”
Emerson stopped. How would Quentin know their daughter’s name? She wasn’t sure she should admit knowing it, too. “What are you talking about? A proposition?”
“I have our baby and if you want your happy lives to continue, I think you need to swing by my place so we can set up a financial transaction.”
Briannie looked confused as she saw the anger spread across Emerson’s face. “What’s…?”
Emerson held up her hand to silence her. “Are you crazy? Why would you do this?”
“My mental capacity is not what’s in question right now. How fast can you get here with a million dollars is.”
Emerson was pissed. Was he doing this because she shot him down that day at lunch or was this his game plan all along? She didn’t even have time to debate it. She had to head to Brooklyn. “Are you still living with your father?”
“It’s where I’m at for the moment. You do remember how to get to your old block, Emerson Isles, don’t you?”
“Yes, I remember. I’ll be right there.” She turned to Briannie. “I have to go. I’ll catch up to you later.”
“Wait, Emerson. What’s going on? Who was that?”
“I don’t have time to explain it. But one day I will. Love you.” Emerson rushed off while digging her car keys out of her pocket.
She wasn’t sure what type of trap she was running into, but Emerson wasn’t about to let anything happen to Melody. She had just started the engine when she received a text. It was Quentin. He attached a picture of their child sitting at the kitchen table in his father’s apartment. She looked scared, but not hurt. He’d written ‘you better not call the police’. Emerson wanted to do him permanent harm for this.
She sped onto the FDR and headed to the borough of Brooklyn. She had stayed away from Bedford-Stuyvesant on the off chance she’d run into Jacobi Janssen. Her grandfather had passed away and her mother moved to Florida after she retired. Emerson had set her up with a beautiful home in South Beach. Now here she was having to go and negotiate with a man she wished she had never met.
She parked in the lot for the buildings where Quentin lived. Her old residence was up the street, but all the kids had congregated here because of the community center. The area had gone through some changes due to gentrification, but she recognized quite a few stores and buildings that had always been there.
Emerson put on her pink hoodie and large sunglasses. She couldn’t afford to have anyone recognize her right then. She grabbed her gym bag and jumped out. There weren’t many people around since most would have been at school or work at that time of the day. She entered the lobby and pushed the elevator button.
She was a bundle of nerves. Who else did he have up there? Would Quentin harm both of them even after he got what he wanted? She didn’t care a thing about giving up the money, but would he keep trying to blackmail her? Emerson exited the elevator on the fourteenth floor and banged on his door.
“Why are you banging like you’re the police? Come in.” Quentin stepped aside so she could enter the apartment.
Emerson could barely look at him as she passed him, but her heart immediately melted as she saw Melody laying on the couch. “Is she okay? What did you do to her?”
“It’s amazing how she looks just like you. I can’t find any of me in her. Are you sure I’m her daddy?”
“Quentin, I don’t even have to answer that because you already know she’s yours. I said what did you do to her?”
“Apparently she has autism and is easily excitable. I had to give her something to relax.”
“You drugged her?”
“It’s a mild sedative. She’s fine.”
“You don’t know what other medications she’s on that may interact badly. And she’s a child; how do you know if you’ve given her too much?”
“I don’t remember you being this mouthy. Can we talk about business, please?”
Emerson was in full protective mode. She sat down on the couch beside Melody and rubbed her hand. “I can’t just withdraw a million dollars. How do you expect this transaction to work?”
“You can wire the money to me. I’ve got an offshore account set up. You give me the cash and I’ll disappear. I’m tired of New York. I have some possibilities overseas I’m looking to get involved in, but I don’t want to have to worry about money. You have plenty money and the means to make more so don’t act like you can’t spare it.”
“There’s no price you could place on our child’s head that would equal her worth. But how could I possibly trust you to disappear? I would have never thought in a million years you’d do something like this.” Emerson was forcing herself to remain calm.
“I’m not trying to hang around. You’re in the public eye too much. I don’t need that kind of attention should you decide to blab to the cops. But, of course if you don’t give up the money I’ll blast the news of who Melody is to every entertainment news resource out there and let you deal with that mess.”
Emerson was about to respond when she felt Melody stir. “Let me make sure she’s all right, Quentin.”
“I said she’s fine.” He opened the door of the end table and pulled out a syringe. It was already prepped with another dose of sedative.
Emerson wasn’t about to let him stick that needle in her again. While he was distracted by that task, she slowly reached into her gym bag. With her thumb she turned on her taser and before he realized what was happening, she used the weapon to keep him away from Melody.
He staggered while convulsing and fell. His head struck the heavy wooden coffee table Mr. Castro had had for years. Quentin didn’t move. Emerson carefully checked for a pulse. He was still alive. She gathered Melody up into her arms and moved quickly to the door. She glanced behind her before leaving, but Quentin still laid motionless on the living room floor.
Her heart was about to beat its way out of her chest, but she held onto her girl for dear life. Just as she made it down the hall, the elevator door opened. Emerson was a little spooked because no one was on it, but she silently thanked God and kept it moving.
She tried not to run as she got to the parking lot because she knew that would raise alarm bells with the neighbors you couldn’t see, but who were definitely watching you. Emerson secured the seatbelt around Melody and then rushed to the driver’s side. She took off with no clear plan of where to go.
She’d driven several blocks before Emerson realized she was being stared at. “Hey, Melody. Don’t be scared. I was able to get you away from that man. I’m sorry he bothered you. Are you feeling okay?”
“Yes.” She looked out the window.
“Sweetie, where were you before this happened?”
“I was at school. Montgomery-Mann Academy.”
Emerson pulled over and Googled the school. She recognized the area and followed the directions. She wanted to hold her hand or stroke her face, but she didn’t want Melody to feel uncomfortable. She’d been through enough.
“I’m going to take you back to your school. I’m sure they’re worried. Your dad may even be there waiting for you.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.”
“Do you know me?”
Emerson was stopped at a traffic light, so she turned to her mini me to answer. “No, but I wish all the best for you.”
“You know my name though.”
“I do. But I don’t mean you any harm. I’m just glad I was able to help.” A curious child, Emerson hoped her responses weren’t causing more anxiety. She didn’t know Melody’s level of comprehension, but she seemed pretty keen to her.
Emerson was both sad and relieved to see the school. This should have never happened, but she was glad to meet her baby.
“This is it. I’ll go get Miss Johnston so she can come meet you.” Melody started to open the car door.
“Melody, honey; I have to go, but I’ll stay here and make sure you get inside the building safely.” It killed Emerson to have to do that but her meeting the teacher was definitely not a good idea.
“All right. Thank you again.” Melody had a beautiful smile and Emerson was grateful she seemed okay.
“Be careful, love.”
Melody ran inside the building. Emerson switched parking spaces so she could get a better view of the school from more than one angle. She wasn’t sure how long she should sit there, but she had to be sure Quentin wasn’t going to come back. Or maybe she just wanted to be near her child for a little while longer.
