Chapter 6: Interlopers
The loud doorbell buzz woke Hilary with swift, unexpected alertness.
It was one thing to open up the hotel room to find a young bellhop standing. Another to see that same bellhop standing near a splendid morning cart- a delivered lavish only a luxuriously rich someone could afford. Fragrant vanilla orchids and fresh cut pink roses made a fine bouquet resting beside the hotel's signature hot chocolate inside of her favorite oversized mug- "Black is Beautiful.
Hilary wheeled in delightful mystery breakfast and tipped the bellhop.
Then alone, happily without strange "Let's Be Chums" Neil around, she unveiled marvelous surprise. Plump opened figs, sweet sectioned oranges, and golden scrambled eggs mixed with savory green onion and juicy sausage pieces lavishly took up sterling silver tray's elegant residence. The lavender card, scented in her not-so-secret admirer's cologne, simply read, "I love you always in all ways, D."
Hilary wished he had been behind the door too. After all, it was the first time in months that she hadn't fallen asleep spooned in the gratifying stimulation of his strong, comforting arms or greeted by morning light filtering through, shining on a lion tattoo. The rather exhausting flight with bad company seemed to make dozing off easy, but she would have much preferred her Devon.
Her Devon...
Still, nothing diminished such early morning giddiness.
"Look here, Peanut, your daddy plans to spoil us forever," Hilary chirped in singsong joy, feeling like a bird flying in redolent air birthed from splendors of piercing romantic love.
She wrapped white terry cloth robe tighter and sat on upturned sheets of massive bed, ravenous and excited.
"I much prefer you," she groaned into her cell phone call, hiding her content at being catered, wiping her mouth with a pristine white napkin after eating crunchy olive oil and crushed avocado toast.
"Well, we can't always get what we want for breakfast," Devon teased, mocking her playful irritation.
"Hmmmph! I never!"
He laughed, tickling her sensitive ear.
She smiled, letting one hand rest and cradle rounded abdomen, wishing he were closer to feel what their Valentine's poignancy had created.
"Thank you," she sighed.
"You're welcome, Beautiful," he whispered. "I love spoiling you."
"I just told Peanut to prepare for your behavior."
His chuckled intensified butterflies within. Oh how she loved him so...
"How are things going with my father? You two getting along?"
"Mmmmhm, I guess we've been cordial. I agreed to let bygones be bygones."
"That's good. I know you are skeptical of him, Baby, but my father is one of the finest men I know."
Gnawing doubt feathered against her strong guard. Something wasn't right. Yet she didn't want to hurt Devon's love for Neil. Her trust radar had been shooting red flags since he delivered his parting remark in the night.
"Apparently Jack told Neil about my pregnancy," she groaned.
"What?" Devon couldn't hide astonishment. "That's insane. I thought you told him to keep it confidential."
"Well, I certainly implied that."
"I guess that means-"
"No. Not yet."
"When Hilary?"
"When the time is right Devon. We will tell your family together when the timing is right."
"Alright," he sighed.
"I like that we have this secret that only we alone know. That's what makes us so special."
"That we're a secret couple hiding out?"
"No. That we're in love. When two people are invested in a private feeling that they share together, it's an experience that is paramount to all things. It's a feeling so rare, so beautiful that some people go a lifetime without ever having that special intimacy with anyone. What we have is real, Devon. Real and private. I understand that you want to shout it from the rooftops, to everyone in the whole world, but let's just keep it us for a little while longer. Let's revel in what we have created."
Deadening silence stilted the air with friction and static.
"Devon?" She called out. "Are you still there?"
"Yes. I'm here."
"You got quiet."
"It's just... those were the most uplifting words a woman has ever said to me, Hilary Curtis. My heart bursts at hearing you describe our relationship in that way. I cannot help feeling the same. I love you so much. So so much."
"It's true. And I love you more Devon. You're it for me."
"God. There's no woman on earth like you."
She almost swooned, hearing the pleasure and pride coating his gentle voice. He always aroused her neverending ardor.
"I have to go, Sweetheart," Devon groaned. "but three things."
"Yes?"
"Think about me every second."
"Already done! What else?"
"I hope you have a good meeting this morning. Make it nice and win that account."
"Of course. And lastly?"
"The sooner you finish- the sooner you can come home!"
She laughed and laughed, warmed and flattered.
Much later, changed into a v-neck emerald green dress and crisp, black blazer, her new necklace being sole jeweled accessory, she walked smartly in Stella McCartney mahogany kitten heels.
Forrester Creations had nothing on her.
"Good morning, Mrs. Curtis," Rick Forrester greeted and stood, leaning down to kiss her cheek. His tawny blond bearded face, trimmed haircut, and bright baby blue eyes were handsome attributes. And his finely tailored Prussian blue suit fit him snugly.
Still, her boyfriend had it down pact when it came to form-fitting designer suits.
"Nice to see you again," Hilary said, nodding her head. "Hello Mrs. Forrester."
"Oh please call me Maya," Maya commanded, also rising to shake Hilary's hand. Maya's ivory black curls were up in an elegantly composed chignon and knee length sunshine yellow dress complimented her radiant light brown complexion.
"Congratulations on your nuptials." Hilary sat, staring around the muted earth tones of the polished boardroom. Framed original watercolor fashion drawings lined the walls with scrawled autographed "Forrester" in the corners.
"Thank you," Maya beamed, touching her husband with affection and possessiveness.
Hilary couldn't wait to have public display with her Devon. Yes. He was hers. And she was for no shadow of doubt his.
"I thought you and Mr. Winters would arrive together," Maya said.
"I didn't see him at all this morning," Hilary murmured.
She hoped the phony bastard hadn't set her up for a big fall.
/
Devon hated the nightmares.
In them, Lily, his own dear sister, still viciously attacked Hilary, still refusing to forgive.
Although he called Hilary for his own peace of mind and pleasure, warring doubt continued swimming in his unconscious mind, biting him like a poisonous spider. It was a sinking feeling, an overwhelming dread that some familial love threatened his happiness with his future wife and mother of his child.
A danger loomed, an intuitive warning that he must protect Hilary at all costs.
He took out the engagement ring and stared at its beauty, imagining the glittery rock on Hilary's delicate finger. He originally wanted to be on the private jet, but knew he would get down on his knees and propose. The inkling had frightened him yesterday. Last moment seen in the heated eroticism of her astride, loving and calling out his name, he saw the passionate thrall of a queen, a woman who had wrapped his enchanted heart in an unbreakable ribbon.
She wasn't just wanted and desired above all. He needed her. Forever.
The lack of control unnerved and startled him. He never felt so extreme about a woman before. Roxanne came close...
His cell phone rang.
"I'm glad I caught you," Lily said in a frantic rush, not bothering with customary hello.
"Sis, I'm just heading out actually," Devon said, reaching towards the doorknob.
"Not to fly off to California are you?"
"I did want to."
"Devon seriously? Let that woman breathe at least. Sheesh! She probably thinks you have no mind of your own."
"That's not true."
"Where are you really going then?"
"To the office."
"Yeah right."
Devon sighed, reigning in frustrated annoyance.
"Can you please tell me why are you calling?" He asked.
"I wanted to see if you were still coming to Charlie and Maddie's party?" Lily inquired.
"Of course I am."
After a quick goodbye, he opened the door, only to have Gwen race inside, walking past him.
"I need to see you," she said.
"Gwen," Devon huffed. "Now is not a good time."
"I know that you're not interested," she said. "But just hear me out."
"What is it going to take for you to understand that I'm with someone? We're very serious."
"I get it, Devon."
"Okay. Well, what's this?"
"I just started casually talking to someone."
"Uh huh. What does this have to do with me?"
"Everything. See I'm dating Mason Wilder and I think-"
"Wait! What? Mason?"
"Yes."
"Listen Gwen, I know he may seem attractive on the outside, but he is not a good person to start a relationship with."
"He is trying to start fresh, Devon. He deserves a chance."
"Sounds like he already has you buttered up."
"Buttered up?"
"He fed me those same lines all while stealing my identity."
Devon smoothed thick black curls growing on his head, hoping to sink truth into impressionable Gwen. She deserved far better than trash off the street.
She sat on his olive green cushioned chair and deliberately crossed her long legs with slow maneuverability as though she was auditioning for the part of Sharon Stone's character in Basic Instinct.
"Well, if I can't have you," she purred coyly, "Mason is a good bet for me, Devon. I like him."
Devon swallowed uncomfortably, noting how Gwen's manicured fingers trembled on the belt of her long camel toned trench coat, of how he hoped she wouldn't dare take it off and show him what he knew she wanted to show him.
Desperation filled the room and made sweat escape his pores. He needed her to leave. Not because he was tempted by her seductive ploy.
He didn't want to hurt her feelings any more than he had already.
"Just be careful, Gwen. Don't go barking up the wrong tree."
She stood and strolled over, touching his face.
"I'm not worried about my tree, Devon. After all, Hilary introduced us."
/
Sluggish Neil laid on the bed, fully dressed, consuming Hilary's leftovers, lost between imagining her eating and the blurred memories of ambiguous sex marathons with the front desk clerk. They had been in the room meant to be his and Hilary's- the one Jack booked and confirmed. The eager woman was a good lay and a necessary one, considering he hadn't been with a woman in months. Hourly rumps of lustful sweat and meaningless grunts was solely instrumental prep work for Hilary. Her sought out love and ripened youthfulness would need a strong, virile man. He proved himself well and good to a stranger he hoped never to see physically again.
"It will be a while before we get intimate," Neil sighed into the wrinkled pillow, sniffing Hilary's perfume on its satin cream case while stroking her abandoned robe with desperate fingertips. "We will take it slow, my sweetheart. True love has to be taken slow. True love is what we have. You and Devon are just humping horny rabbits. Just like me and that lady last night."
He regretted not watching Hilary sleep, having not had his fill on the Jabot Jet. He had a sick inkling that his son would call or show up in the morning, become an overbearing threat. So he waited until Hilary left the hotel room in order to make haste in the act of lingering on the aftermath of her presence.
At Forester, he came on time.
"Well, right on the dot," Rick said.
"Nice seeing you both," Neil stated, shaking Rick's hand and kissing Maya's cheek while staring at Hilary, tampering down his hungry longing. "Let's get this started."
/
Neil finished preparing celebratory celebrations, setting a private party reservation at one of L.A.'s newly opened fine establishments courtesy of the Forresters. He stepped into Wild Spite, a modest sized restaurant specializing in artisan sushi and specialty temperas. Oriental red carpet, emerald green table cloth on rounded tables with gold embellished white napkins and real crystalline tulip glasses seemed a perfect environment to commit fetal murder.
He bumped into familiar couple on his exit out.
"Christine, Paul, I wasn't expecting to see you two," Neil said, tightly.
"We're just spending a little Genoa City getaway here," Paul said. "Funny seeing you. Did you just have lunch there?"
"Oh no. I'm throwing a small gathering. Hilary and I had a very positive meeting with Forester Creations."
"That's great. Chris and I have dinner reservations tonight."
Neil pursed his lips, fuming inside.
"Wow," Chris said, smiling. "Trying to score another big account with them?"
"Somewhat. Ummm if you'll excuse me."
Neil quickly walked off, angered at the police detective and the DA trying to ruin carefully maneuvered plans.
/
"Everything went down perfectly," Neil uttered, kicking back a virgin martini at a bar far from the hotel. "Now it is time for you to do your magic."
"Hilary is okay with leading a line?" Mason huffed, holding deep black vile to his face, the poison that would destroy his ex-girlfriend's miracle. "My, my, my she's getting more and more vain these days."
"She's a knockout dimepiece. She deserves this opportunity. Tyra Banks and Naomi Campbell have nothing on Hilary Curtis."
Mason snorted at a man Neil's age using the word "dimepiece" to describe a woman. He was certain that if Hilary overheard, all of the drugs of this earth combined wouldn't make her fall for someone so out of touch with the world.
Still, Neil Winters was banking and paying him a lot. That didn't necessarily mean Mason felt his sinister plans would succeed.
"What's the plan?"
"I have tonight's celebration all planned out. The Forresters are coming. It's going to be small but tasteful."
"Sounds expensive." Mason nodded, liking the simplicity. "And Hilary?"
"She won't know what hit her."
"But you will be here to pick up the damsel's pieces?"
"Exactly. She'll be devastated. But she's young. There is plenty of time for her to start a family with the right man."
An hour before Neil's planned celebration, Mason emptied the vial into cold sparkling apple cider, watching it darken and turn back normal.
In the midst of his enjoyable perks of nightclubs, good booze, and Rolex buying, Mason didn't want to act like a man tied down to a woman. It happened regardless. He found himself rejecting several sun bathed beauties fawning over him as though he were a winning prize.
Gwen was astonishingly gorgeous and had a brazen tenacity riddled with clandestine secrets, but even she couldn't compete with...
"There you are."
Mason whirled around. His brows rose high.
He found himself facing Hilary's father for the second time in his life.
"Well, well, well if it isn't Douglas Turner. Fancy running into you," Mason sneered.
"I certainly don't want to see you," Douglas snapped.
"Oh how you wound me, Old Man. Now I know that this is definitely not fate."
"Change of plans."
"I don't take orders from you. I'm strictly on Neil Winters payroll."
"Listen Little Man, I would take what I say at face value."
"Or else what?"
" I will tell my daughter exactly what you're planning."
"She won't listen to you."
"She will if I have proof."
Douglas waved a tiny cassette tape and smirked. A dangerous glint shimmered in his black eyes.
Mason folded his arms against his chest, feeling walls closing in. Life no longer seemed like carefree, spoiled fun and vengeance possibilities when a well known murderer wanted to even a score of his own.
"What do you want?" Mason asked.
"To save my daughter- temporarily speaking of course," Douglas stated snidely. "And you're going to be the one who does the job, my boy."