Squeak II

Jezebel

“Earth to Jezebel,” I heard, finally snapping out of my fantasy. I stared into the eyes of the man I shared my life with for the past four years, and I felt nothing but bitter frustration, anger, and resentment. I was tired of faking—of telling this man I loved him with a straight face, of trying to be the woman he wanted me to be, of hearing my daughter calling him Papa, and of mediocre dick. I hated this man with every fiber of my being, and I’d be lying if there weren’t nights when I considered slitting his throat while he slept and ending it all.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

Adrian sucked his cheeks in, annoyed by my lack of attention. There were many things that I hated about Adrian. For one, he was a King. The only Kings I had love for were Erik and Izabel; any other Kings could go to Hell in a handbasket. Second, he was a pathological liar.

I know I’m the pot calling the kettle black, but he sought me out with bad intentions, so whatever he has coming to him is his fault.

Third, he was controlling. Very early in our “relationship,” Adrian would comment about my weight and how I should lose weight for “health reasons.” There was nothing wrong with my weight. Sure, according to that crackpot BMI chart I was considered overweight, but I had a nice shape, and my man loved every inch of it. I lost the weight. Why? Because I had to play the part of the desperate pick-me single mother who would do anything for male validation.

Fourth, he was overly affectionate.

Do you know what it feels like to have someone you despise want to kiss, hold, and have sex with you all the time? That brings me to my next ick about Adrian.

Fifth, he liked having sex…often. I threw up after the first couple of times we had sex. It came from a mixture of anxiety, disgust, guilt, and shame. I feared becoming pregnant by the psycho because I knew I’d march straight to the abortion clinic and have that fetus sucked out of me. I took my birth control religiously and hid my pills from him because I wouldn’t put it past him to throw them out or replace them with placebos. Over the past year or so, Adrian had been mentioning giving Izabel a sister or brother. I used my new career as an excuse and told him we should wait a few more years. That was enough to placate him…for the moment.

Sixth, he hated that I told Izabel about Erik and that he’s her biological father who she’ll see one day. He always bitched and moaned about how he’d been there for Izabel since the beginning, and how he felt disrespected, blah, blah, blah, and that Erik would be a bad influence on our daughter and was dangerous, blah, blah, blah.

Half the time, I don’t even know what Adrian says because I tune him out when he tries to puff his chest up at me. Objectively, he’s actually a good father, but he’s a placeholder and doesn’t even know it.

Finally, I hated Adrian King because I recognized the exact moment he fell in love with me. He told me he loved me one night in bed after he “made love” to me. The softness in his eyes that were filled with vulnerability gave him away. That was nearly three years ago, and just the sight of the man still made the roof of my mouth itch.

“I asked how work is going,” he repeated as he sliced into his steak. He laughed when I rolled my eyes. “That bad, huh?”

“I passed the bar weeks ago, and Mr. Brooks has yet to assign me a case. He’s still treating me like a paralegal, and it’s frustrating,” I complained.

“Quit and go somewhere else.”

I huffed at Adrian’s simple solution.

“It’s not that easy, Adrian. I’ve worked at Brooks and Associates throughout law school and have a rapport with the partners and staff. It would be career suicide if I tried to switch to another firm. I’d have zero seniority and would have to work myself up from the bottom again. Not to mention, I risk being blackballed, and I doubt Mr. Brooks would give me a glowing letter of recommendation.”

“I don’t know why you want to work for that asshole anyway.”

“Oooo, Papa. You said a bad word,” Izabel pointed out before slurping a creamy noodle.

“I’m sorry, Izzy. I shouldn’t have said that in front of you,” Adrian apologized.

“That’s okay. I forgive you,” she mumbled as I wiped the alfredo sauce from her lips.

“Thank you, Izabel. For being so forgiving, you can order dessert tonight.”

“Yes!” she hissed.

“Really, Adrian? This late on a school night? She’ll be bouncing off the walls.”

Like her father, Izabel was sensitive to caffeine and sweets, and I knew putting her down for the evening would be challenging.

“Relax, Jezebel. A little slice of cake won’t be the death of her.”

“Then you can stay up with her.”

“Gladly.” My phone vibrated on the table. “Don’t answer it.”

“Sorry,” I said, standing to my feet. “It’s work.”

“Jezebel, we’re eating dinner as a family—work can wait.”

I smiled apologetically and left for the restaurant’s exit.

“Hello?”

“Jezebel, we have a problem.”

I sighed. “What’s going on, Frankie?”

“Squatters.”

“Dammit!” I growled, stomping my heel into the pavement. Since my initial investment, I purchased several more homes that I use for long-term rentals. Squatters and vandalizers were the bane of my existence.

Trust me when I say the world would be a better place without them. Here I am, trying to build an empire, and they’re trying to screw me out of my money.

“Did you offer them money to leave?”

“I offered them five ba, but they don’t want to leave.”

“I see. You know what to do.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I have to go. Keep me updated,” I said before hanging up. I returned to our table and found Adrian and Izabel in deep discussion. “Is everything okay?”

“Not really. Izabel told me that she’s still being bullied at school.”

“They call me a freak, mommy.”

Sometimes…I despise children.

“Ignore them, baby. They’re just jealous. I’ll talk to your teacher again when I drop you off tomorrow.”

Izabel nodded resolutely and shoved her plate aside when the server brought our desserts. Her despair over being bullied seemed to vanish as soon her eyes landed on her slice of triple chocolate cake. My mouth salivated just from the sight, but I’d given up on most sweets long ago. I glared at the fruit and Chantilly cream that Adrian ordered for me.

“Work emergency?”

“Kind of, but it’s a simple fix. Are you okay?” I asked once I noticed how he had broken into a light sweat since I returned.

He asked me for a baby the last time he looked like this.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

I tried to keep my face neutral as Adrian sank on one knee in the middle of the restaurant, but I was sure I looked like I was about to crap a brick.

“Jezebel, we’ve been partners for four years, and I’ve had the pleasure of not only loving you but loving and being a father to Izabel.”

I cracked a smile as he continued his drawn-out proposal. All I could think about was Erik’s proposal. There was absolutely nothing romantic about how he badgered me for thirty minutes while he attempted to sell himself as my best and only option. We both knew that wasn’t true, but Stroking Erik’s Ego Rule #1 said: Let Erik think he won.

“What do you say?” Adrian asked once I finally tuned back in.

The word “no” was at the tip of my tongue when I realized everyone was watching. One woman had her hand over her heart, a gay couple was gushing about how romantic, sweet, and gorgeous Adrian was, and Izabel stared up at me with her mismatched eyes. “Mommy, what’s taking so long? Say yes.”

He did this on purpose, knowing I wouldn’t turn him down in public, especially in front of Izabel. That’s fine. Erik gets out in three days, and this will all be over.

“Yes…I’ll marry you.”