The Heiress (Book 2 of the Forbidden Series)

8

The week passed quickly, Rolland kept Alexander busy with the household upkeep, and Linda had managed to monopolize his off hours. She was wise to Layla’s trickery and kept close to the object of her desire. Layla was tied up with entertaining her guest until they flew out Friday night. The traffic through the property decreased, and the estate went from full to relatively empty overnight.

Alexander was given the weekend off which worked out for him nicely. David and Kat had gone away for the week, and Dane took advantage of his parent’s departure to paint the town red. Layla sat in the family room reading a book; her feet tucked up under her bottom as she leaned against the arm, her book propped between her fingers.

Alexander strolled into the room; a backpack slung over his shoulder and her coat in hand. “Come on get up.” He requested quietly making sure no one heard him.

“Are we going somewhere?”

“When the cat’s away the mice will play.” He held out her coat. Layla placed her book on the side table and standing up she slipped her arms into the sleeves. “I’m getting you out of this house for the weekend; show you the real world for a change.”

Layla’s pulse fluttered, a weekend away with Alexander this could be her chance to change his mind about her. “Ok, I’ll call down to security and have-”

Alexander turned her around his hands bracing her shoulders holding her at arm’s length, a mischievous grin curling his handsome mouth. “That would defeat the purpose of sneaking out. You will be with me; I won’t let anything happen to you.” He promised.

Excitement coursed through Layla, she’d never broken her father’s security rule before. It was both tempting and slightly frightening. Alexander’s strong hands on her shoulders calmed her concerns. “I’ll pack.”

“I’ve done it; I have everything you need. We will be back by Monday morning.” His fingers closed around hers. His hand was surprisingly soft. “Come on.”

Layla held tight to Alexander’s waist as the motorcycle sped down the streets of New York. They were in a rundown residential section of the city. A section Layla had never been exposed to in her life. Many of the residents were outside drinking and talking on the stoops or around their cars. A group of teenagers were playing street hockey in the center of the road. Small children rode bikes and tricycles down the sidewalks. The houses needed many repairs and a new paint job. Most had bars over their windows and numerous locks on the doors.

They pulled up behind a squad car in front of a small white house. Two uniformed officers and a scrawny little man in a tailored suit stood on the creaking porch arguing with a small older woman. Alexander barely turned off the engine when he jumped from his bike and raced up the sidewalk yelling at the officers to take their hands off his mother. Layla slid off the rear seat and followed him up the walk.

The officers had dragged his mother from her home, and the suit was getting ready to place a notice on the door. “I got it!” Alexander screamed. “I got it!” He repeated ripping the notice from the little man’s bony fingers. He reached into his pocket and took out an envelope of money waving it in the man’s face. “Take your damn hands off her.” He snapped at the officers taking his mother’s hand and pulling her towards himself. The little man opened the envelope and counted the cash. Nodding his head, the officer released Mrs. Sinton and Alexander pushed his mother protectively behind him. “That is fourteen hundred dollars right there, and I’ll have another three hundred Monday morning for you. Now get off our property.” He barked his eyes narrowed in bitterness.

The little man placed the money into his coat pocket. “This only buys you two weeks. If you are late on the next payment, we will be back. This house will belong to the bank. Have a nice day Ma’am.” He smiled a yellow crooked grin at Maria.

Maria snarled, growling something nasty in Spanish. They watched the officers and collector leave their property, and then she hugged her son, thankful he had come up with the money. “Alexander, thank the lord.”

“It’s alright mother, come on inside.” He led her in the house gesturing for Layla to follow.

“How did you get so much money so quickly?” His mother asked sitting on the couch.

“I took on some odd jobs.” He fibbed.

Layla stared at him in shock; she didn’t know. His mother didn’t know what he did for a living. Maria noticed Layla for the first time now that all the excitement had passed. A weak smile crossed the withered face. “Alexander, are you going to introduce your little friend to me?”

Alexander held his hand out for Layla’s and drew her closer to them. “Mother this is a friend of mine from work Layla. Layla, my mother, Maria Sinton.”

Layla shook Maria’s skinny hand. Her skin felt thin; she was afraid she would hurt the small woman. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Sinton.”

“Please, call me Maria; Mrs. Sinton only reminds me how old I am.” Maria stood up slowly. “Are you two hungry?” She asked so happy to have her only son finally bring a girl home to her. Layla was so polite and beautiful, so well dressed and groomed. She was very different from the women in their neighbourhood, classy, well-spoken; and yet something about her told Maria she knew her from somewhere.

“I would love something to eat.” Layla accepted politely. Maria strolled to the kitchen her movements deliberate and concentrated. Her head covered in a kerchief to hide her boldness. She looked sickly and old, but Alexander was so young. Once she was out of earshot, Layla had to ask. “How old was your mother when she had you?”

“Thirty-two. She had two miscarriages before me, and I was a difficult labour, she was never able to have another after.”

“So, you are an only child? How dull. So, she is only in her fifties why does she seem so much older?”

“When my father died she went gray from stress, last year she was diagnosed with cancer. It’s inoperable so her only option was chemotherapy but it’s as bad as the cancer, it makes her sick and wreaks havoc on her body. She refuses even to go anymore unless I force her.” Alexander pointed up to an eight-by-ten picture on the wall above the small television. The woman in the picture was young and stunning holding her ten-year-old son. “She will always be that woman to me.”

“She was lovely,” Layla commented softly stroking his arm in condolences. It must be hard to know you only had a short time with the ones you loved. She wished there could have been something she could do, but even all her wealth could not fight death. “Forgive me but if she is so sick why not put her in a home where she will receive the medical attention she requires?”

“My mother wants to die at home. This home and I’m going to break my back to keep it for her. I can’t change the fact that she is going to die, but I’ll be damned if I don’t at least try to fill her dying wish.” Alexander took a breath to calm his emotions. Smiling, he took Layla’s hand. “Come let’s go help her.”

“Help? You mean cook?”

“You have never cooked? Anything?” He asked in surprise.

“Does pouring cereal count?”

He understood Beth’s possessiveness of her kitchen, but he found it difficult to believe that at Layla’s age she had never even boiled a pot of water. Alexander shook his head. “Well, then it is high time you learn. Come on we will start you off easy.”

They had a few finger foods that Maria had made to tide them over, and then they set to work on an early dinner. Alexander pulled out an assortment of vegetables, two knives and cutting boards. Maria browned beef and tossed it into a large pot along with beans and some vegetables her son had chopped. Layla held the big knife awkwardly trying to slice up the onion Alexander had given her. The vegetable slipped in her fingers, and only the odd shaving came off.

Alexander came up from behind Layla his arms wrapping around her, his hands over her own. Positioning her fingers to hold the knife and onion properly he spoke softly in her ear. “You will cut your hands off that way.” He teased. With the slightest pressure, Alexander guided her hand movements. “Like this. Tip to handle, rock the blade.” Together they sliced off a thin complete section of rings. The task seemed easy with his guidance. Soon she had chopped up an onion, a tomato, celery, carrots, and peppers, all of which went into the pot. A sense of pride surfaced in Layla knowing she had contributed in some small way to the delicious smelling meal now simmering on the stove top.

The fragrance wafted through the house making her hungry. It would be an hour or so; Maria had explained before the food would be ready to eat. Alexander decided to show Layla around the small house in the meantime. The one level bungalow was cramped compared to what she was used to but, in a way, it felt quaint and homey. He showed her the bathroom and where to find the towels should she wish to shower. He took her farther down the short hall. “This is my room when I’m here.” He said opening the door. Layla was stunned the room was smaller than her closet. Nothing but a small three drawer dresser, a two by two-foot closet, and a narrow twin bed. “You will be sleeping in here; I’ll take the couch.”

“I don’t want to drive you from your bed.”

“It’s fine the couch is bigger than it looks. Come on I’ll get you something to drink.”

They spent the afternoon on the porch watching the neighbourhood kids playing in the street. They drank hot cider to beat the chill, and Alexander told her of life growing up in the hood. All the sneaky little things he did as a kid. He pointed to the house across the street and four doors down. “I broke my arm climbing out of that second-floor side window when I was fourteen. Her parents came home early, and her dad had a gun. I dressed in the closet, and when climbing out the window the drain pipe broke, and I fell just short of that bush. I dragged myself all the way home and waited for the next morning before telling my mom I was hurt.” He chuckled taking a sip of his drink. “My mother was so mad she whooped me good that morning. Afterwards, she took me to the hospital, and I had my arm in a cast. It killed my whole summer.” He chuckled reminiscing of his mischievous youth.

“You were a real little troublemaker, weren’t you?” Layla joshed placing her cup on the wooden planks beneath her chair.

“Yeah well after that I learned not to get involved with girls whose fathers have done time.” Alexander laughed. “What about you? You must have done a thing or two to burn your parents’ butt growing up.”

Layla thought hard. As far back as she could remember she hadn’t. She had never really disobeyed her parents until now. She had never had cause too. They had supplied her with everything she had ever wanted or needed. She had close friends both male and female. She had been all over the world twice, had the finest education. She had been attending parties with the rich and famous since the age of ten. “No actually, I can’t recall my parents ever being upset with me. I’ve always had a very liberal rein of what I could do, provided I had proper provisions in place.”

Alexander stared at her with amazement. “You are kidding me? Never? Nothing? What about when you started having s*x. I’m sure your parents can’t possibly believe you to be a twenty-one-year-old virgin?”

She smiled. “No, but they took it well. I never told them, and they’ve never said anything, but somehow, I think they knew. I came back to my room that night to a package of birth control pills and condoms on my dresser.”

“Yeah, sounds like your parents were pretty cool about it. My mother chased me down the street with a broom. Screaming about how I was going to ruin my life with that little hussy. Of course, I was only fifteen, not that I hadn’t been trying for a while first.” He grinned. “You must have been fending off the guys yourself. How old were you?”

“Nineteen.” She confessed feeling inadequate to his experience.

Alexander seemed shocked his body tense as he absorbed the unexpected information. “No wonder they were so cool about it. Nineteen, I didn’t expect that.” He shifted in his seat. Leaning forward his voice lowered. “If you don’t mind me asking how many men have you been with?”

“Including you?” She lowered her voice. He nodded, and she didn’t know if she should answer him. Would he think her inexperienced? “Two.”

Alexander sat back in his seat. “Seriously?” She nodded blushing. “Well then.” He lifted his glass to his lips, feeling awkward. She was so young in more ways than he had imagined. So, sheltered, he would have thought the child of two of the most famous party animals would have been wilder than she was. Then again it could all be a head game as well. Her advances didn’t work on him, so maybe she thought to portray innocence would. He toyed with the idea and decided she was playing him for a fool. “I find it hard to believe that a girl as sexy as you, surrounded by attractive, wealthy men day in and day out has only been with two.”

“I have been surrounded by wealth, beauty, and power all my life. It doesn’t hold as much meaning for me as it does for most people. They’re all so…” She thought, trying to figure out why they had never interested her.

Alexander shook his head; he believed her, god help him he did. “They’re boring. The same old thing, again and again, gets dull. You are bored.” He said. “That is why they don’t appeal to you.”

“I am not. My life is very exciting. I do what most women only dream of.” Layla argued.

“Yeah,” he added smugly, “so what do you dream of?”

Layla sat there her face indifferent as she contemplated his question. She had no answer.

“Supper is ready,” Maria announced walking out onto the porch. Her eyes darted from her son to his guest. “Something wrong?”

Alexander squeezed his mother’s hand lovingly. “Nothing. Let’s eat it smells wonderful.”

***

That night Layla lay in Alexander’s narrow bed staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. His question repeating in her mind. She had never been asked what she desired from life. Her life had always been decided and planned out for her. She had always known exactly where her life would go whether she wanted it to or not. She was to be wealthy and successful, like the other members of her family, but she had no drive like them, no desire.

What do you dream of? Alexander’s voice echoed in her ears. Why would he care what she wanted? No one else did.

Layla threw back the covers and swung her legs over the edge. She put her clothes on and snuck out of the bedroom. Quietly creeping down the hall to the living room, Layla felt around in the dark. She moved around the room feeling for the couch. Her fingers touched the warm skin of Alexander’s bare shoulder. Her hand slid down his arm. Kneeling beside him, she leaned in close, her voice a whisper. “Alex. Alex.”

Groggy Alexander shifted rolling onto his side. Blinking awake he tried to focus. The room was dark, but he could feel Layla’s soft fingers over his arm. “What’s wrong?” He asked still trying to shrug off the sleep threatening to draw him back in.

“I know what I want.” She smiled leaning in closer to try and see him better.

“Good for you.” He yawned and laid his head back against the arm of the couch closing his eyes.

“No Alex, wake up.” Layla braced his shoulders and pulled slowly sitting him up with great effort.

“Layla it’s like 3:30 in the morning. Can’t we discuss this when the sun comes up?” He complained trying to lay down again.

“Alex come on get up. I want to go.” She reached for his shirt on the floor. “Get dressed.”

Surrendering Alexander kicked off his blanket and hauled himself into an upright position. Scratching his head, his dark tresses tossing between his fingers. Yawning, his back arched, stretching the muscles, stiff from laying on the small couch. Reaching for his pants, Alexander stood up and slipped his jeans on. Taking his shirt from Layla, he followed her to the door. “Where exactly are we going?”

“You are going to show me the city.” She answered placing his shoes in front of him.

Alexander pulled his shirt down his torso. “At 3:30 am? Everything’s closed.” He complained stepping into his shoes.

“Yes, I know, but there must be something to see and do. Alex, I want to experience something besides my usual humdrum life. Show me this side of New York. What did you do as a teen around here…?” She smirked. “Besides creeping around with the girls.”

Alexander stood thinking for a moment, wondering what he could show her. At this hour most of the legal things were done. Grinning, he reached for his keys. “Ok, there is one place.”

They drove for fifteen minutes arriving in the warehouse district near the docks. The shadowy buildings gave Layla the creeps. She held tight to Alexander wondering where they were going. He parked beside a small gathering of rundown rusted out vehicles and ten-speed bikes. A light came from inside the warehouse next to them.

“This is the Candy Shop,” Alexander said slipping off his cycle and helping her down. “This is how the projects party.”

He led her inside where she found almost a hundred people. There was a boxing ring structure in the center of the vast space. Music blared over speakers above their heads. There were two groups of teenage boys in the ring taking turns dancing. The crowd clapped and cheered for the ones they liked the most. It was a contest she realized. Alexander had brought her to a dance battle. She had heard of these but never actually thought they happened. She had always assumed they were something that only happened in music videos and VIBE movies.

They moved up to the ring for a better look. Layla watched the elaborate movements and team coordination of the kids in the ring. They were amazing. A thirteen-year-old skinny little black boy draped in clothing far too big for him took center stage. Alexander leaned over to be heard his breath hot on her cheek. “This kid could dance cercal around me.” He told her with admiration. Layla was impressed; Alexander was very good, the boy must be sensational… and he was.

They watched the show until the sun started breaking the horizon. Alexander and Layla then returned his bike home and walked down to the all-night diner ten blocks south of his home. They talked over coffee and wild berry pie. They headed home after an hour both tired and ready to sleep the morning away.

A block from the house a masked young man jumped out at them a gun in his hand. “Give me your wallets.” He ordered. Layla panicked her heart beating wildly in her chest. She clung to Alexander’s arm. Alexander was surprisingly calm. He yawned and shook his head.

“Boy back off.” He protested. “Why are you robbing me anyway? You know I ain’t got any money.”

The assailant turned his gun on Layla. “What about her?”

“Please, do you think she’d be kicking it with a penniless fool like me if she had any damn money? Boy, go home.” Alexander snarled pushing the attacker aside and continued forward. “And get rid of that gun before I tell your mama what you been up to.” He shouted back, and the assailant ran off frightened.

Layla stared at Alexander with a horrified look. He was either incredibly brave or stupid she wasn’t sure which. “How could you have known he wouldn’t shoot us?”

“I know everyone on this block even that punk kid.” He admitted. She glanced back at the young man running away his whole head and face masked she couldn’t tell what he looked like. “But how did you know who he was?”

“His voice.” Alexander smiled walking her up the steps to the front door. Inside he kicked off his shoes and shrugged out of his coat, hanging both his and hers on the hooks by the door. Alexander strolled to the couch and collapsed in a tired slump. “Good night Layla.” He yawned, his eyes already closed.

“Good night Alex.”

***

Sunday morning flew by; Maria taught Layla to make eggs and bacon, waffles and fresh bread. Alexander woke to the delicious smell of baking bread invading his nostrils. When he entered the kitchen that morning, he found his mother happier than he’d seen her in months. Layla stood in the kitchen barefoot and covered in patches of white flour. The powder dusted her bright curls and ivory cheeks. The morning sun caressed her lovely features. She was an angel, and he found himself captivated by her simple beauty.

That image stayed with him for the entire day. Alexander found himself seeing Layla in a different light. Stripped of her designer clothes and fancy image she was an innocent woman taking joy in the unadorned domestic duties of running a household. Taking his eyes off her for the entire day was impossible. He wanted to be near her, to hold her, but respectfully kept his distance.

After lunch, Alexander took Layla to Central Park. She had seen it from the windows of her town cars but never walked through it. The landscape was beautiful. The warm winter breeze blew her loose hair back. Alexander took Layla skating, holding her hand as she slipped and slid on the ice laughing as she tried to retain her shaky balance.

They stopped at a hot dog vendor, and Alexander treated Layla to a New York Frank. The thick hotdog too large and awkward she wore most of it trying to eat it. Her blouse was ruined by the ketchup and mustered, but she didn’t seem to care. Layla was enjoying herself so much she laughed it off.

As they walked through the city, Layla turned heads, but to Alexander’s surprise, her attention never wavered regardless of the many male eyes that were on her. He was sure she honestly didn’t notice. A beautiful woman and humble too, Layla were truly an anomaly.

They stopped in a novelty shop goofing off as they window shopped, trying on goofy glasses and fake noses. Layla appeared in a neon green wig and fake bucked teeth Alexander couldn’t help but laugh. She looked ridiculous and didn’t care. He admired her confidence and self-esteem.

When they returned to his mother’s Layla changed her shirt, and they enjoyed an early dinner. She helped Maria clean up while Alexander joined in a neighbourhood game of street hockey. He broke through the defence and made a goal. His team cheered, and his arms flew up in triumph waving his stick in the air.

“You have a cheerleading section.” Commented one of his teammates with a teasing smile nodding to the porch. Alexander looked over his shoulder to find Layla jumping and clapping for his success. After the game, he coaxed her to join in the next one until Layla confessed she had never played a sport. Alexander spent the evening teaching her to handle a stick and make slap shots against the garage door. “I’ll bring you back one weekend, and you can play a game with us.”

“I’ve never played hockey I don’t know the rules.”

Alexander laughed and shook his head. “Didn’t your father ever watch a game with you?”

“No, my family isn’t really into sports.”

“You have never been to a game?” She shook her head. “We will have to rectify that.”

***

Layla’s pulse sped up with excitement; he was making plans to spend time with her again. Her heart light she felt like she was in heaven. Things were so perfect with Alexander, before that weekend she would have never believed she could have so much fun and spend so little money.

After her hockey lesson, they rented a movie. A horror flick Alexander insisted was a classic and a must see. They sat on the couch in the dark watching their selection. Midway through the movie, at a rather gory scene, Layla screamed and practically leapt into his arms. Her face buried against his neck.

The sudden closeness sparked an instant reaction within them both. Layla looked up to stare into his heated eyes staring back at her. Their faces so close she could have kissed him. The moment right she leaned in and startled at the sound of the alarm clock on the table beside them sounding. The moment lost Alexander stood quickly leaving her alone on the couch. “It’s time for me to go. I have to go to work. I’ll be back in two or three hours.” He said his voice shaky with the suddenly uncomfortable situation. “Make yourself at home, um… you don’t have to wait up. Feel free to watch the rest without me; I’ve seen it ten times.” He grabbed the bag he packed earlier that day, and Alexander was gone.

Layla sat curled on the couch alone in the dark. She felt a pull to him, and she was sure he felt it too, so why did he insist on fighting it?

“My boy is something else, isn’t he?”

Layla looked up to see Maria slowly coming around the corner. Layla had not known she was up. She had retired to bed feeling weak and tired hours ago. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry it was frightening.” She smiled referring to the movie.

Maria lowered herself to the couch beside Layla. Her eyes sparkled warmly. “I was up. The discomfort sometimes keeps me up. I came to watch the movie, but when I saw you and Alexander, I thought I might go back to bed. But now that he is gone I figured you could use the company.” She patted Layla’s hand supportively.

Layla blushed. “You saw that?” She asked meekly her face flushed with embarrassment.

“It’s fine darling. Truly, I’m pleased to see my boy so happy; he has been far too stressed since his father died. He needed a little fun and relaxation in his life. A good woman will do that for a man.”

“We’re only friends. I don’t get out like this much, so he brought me along.”

Maria lifted one gray brow in knowing scrutiny. “I know my boy, the last time he looked at a friend the way he looks at you; my boy became a man.” She grinned leaning back in her seat and turning her attention to the movie.

Layla stared blankly at the screen, her mind occupied. She rather liked Maria, and she seemed to like her too. Maria approved of Layla’s interest in her son and even encouraged it, but the question was how much? “Maria, if Alex likes me so much why does he freeze up and resist me?”

“Alexander is cautious. He has had his heart broken before; he fell for a girl that was… well, let’s say she was extremely popular and overly friendly. Alexander is afraid to make the same mistakes. He has the same urges as any man, and depending on the girl he will indulge, but I’ve never known him to have a relationship since. You are the first woman he has ever brought to meet me since her. Just friends or not.” Maria grinned. “Don’t worry dear, I know him and when he wants more, he will ask.” She turned back to the movie. Silent for a moment she spoke one last piece of advice without taking her eyes from the screen. “And if he asks… accept.”