Chapter 7: Crimson Red Soiree
"Tell us about the line," Rick Forester started.
"Well," Hilary began, passing out thick manila packets to Maya, Rick, and Neil- careful to avoid fingers brushing against Neil's. "Ashley Abbott's new Jabot foray is an organic, all natural ingredient cosmetics line that will launch in time for Chelsea's next fall collection. There are three limited edition shades of lacquer matte lip sticks- Bobbing for Apple- a hot crushed candy red, The Rum in Raisin- a rich dark velvety purple, and Cinnamon Sin- a seductive shimmery nude. I am currently wearing Bobbing for Apple lipstick with The Rum in Raisin lip pencil."
She could feel Neil's eyes watching her and immediately a stream of thick repulsion boiled hot inside, a strong sick inkling to vomit.
Perhaps it could've been the baby. Yet morning sickness lessened as time passed onward.
Without a shadow of doubt, Neil was utterly despicable. Hilary grew determined to know his game.
"Play nice huh?" Hilary thought, giving him a plastic smile. "I'll play nice alright and see what you're up to."
"Wow," Maya whistled, reading well organized documents before meeting Hilary's gaze. "The lip colors look enticing. The red alone is a seductive hue to die for. Plus you're wearing the hell out of that color combination. I'm impressed. So far."
"Thank you," Hilary said, grinning genuinely at the other brown face in the room. She wondered what Rick's thoughts were on being alone with African American power players looking to take charge in the cosmetic/fashion industries. Although originally she saw herself having a successful marketing firm in the future, something tickled her fancy about shifting that ambitious focus towards competing with Jabot and other big Genoa City corporate giant Newman Enterprises.
"And who are you asking to front the campaign? " Rick asked, his bent head looking through facts and figures. "Are there specific models that you have picked? I would be happy to lend you Forester's up-to-date model catalog- that is if we give the okay for this joint venture."
"That won't be necessary," Neil interjected, staring candidly at Hilary. "You're already looking right at her."
"Hmmmmm..." Rick looked up, appearing stunned.
"What is it?" Neil couldn't hide unprofessional irritation.
"Well, we just hired someone new around here," Rick gazed over to Maya, having secret communication. "This would be a great addition in her modeling portfolio, especially a cosmetics giant like Jabot."
"Yes," Maya said. "Her face is perfect to front the line."
"This is a more mature avenue. As you may know, Jabot is for the more sophisticated woman. This is a full face campaign here," Neil disagreed. "Hilary is fresh, glamorous, and marketable. She has that refined elegance that would appeal to the audience we're shifting towards."
Maya arched a brow and Rick was set to put Neil in his place.
"I wasn't going to personally nominate myself as a model," Hilary intervened, calm and collected in a room of rising egos. "In fact, I saw someone else back in Wisconsin due to capture the limelight... Esmeralda for example."
Neil shook his head and explained that Jabot would settle no less than Hilary, that even the creator herself wanted her- which sounded like a huge bald lie. Ashley Abbott would never.
By end, they reached an agreement- Hilary would front the campaign.
She wasn't sure if she should be elated or furious.
However, with stress level reaching unnecessary levels after an important board meeting no less, she fainted right outside of Forester Creations.
/
"Hilary introduced you to Mason?" Devon asked. He wasn't aware that Hilary had even seen the sniveling creep. It didn't incite anger or anything. Mostly, Devon was a little surprised that she hadn't mentioned their encounter.
"Yes," Gwen said coyly, still touching her belted trench coat, playing a teasing kitten game. "In fact, I do believe he'll be working at Jabot soon."
"What?" Devon nearly screamed, crossing his arms over his chest. "He's going to get his old job back? How?"
"Well, he's trying to. I do believe he has Jack's best intentions at heart."
"When it comes to Jack's money of course Mason has the best intentions."
Devon's brows furrowed. Anger was rising, taking away usual calm reserve.
He didn't want Mason anywhere near Hilary or their baby. She had to feel the same way.
"Prison has changed him, Devon," Gwen said, interrupting his thinking. "And I believe for the better."
"I doubt that," Devon spat out, tightening knuckles dreaming of knocking Mason to the ground again and again. It was a dangerous thought, but he would do whatever it took to prevent harm coming to his growing family. Their love was so strong and powerful that it cornered his every waking minute. He would protect rare, precious feeling at all costs.
"I'm going to speak to Jack about this," he inwardly thought. "Or Hilary can come work for me."
"Everyone changes." Gwen crossed her legs with slow deliberation, changing verbalized subject to a body language showcasing desperate attempts of ensnaring him- in bed. "Sometimes change is a good thing."
She still wanted him. That much was obvious.
Shaking his head and closing his eyes for a brief second, he pitied her coming up with such an old, tired minded scheme. Other women had played this temptress game before. Coming up to the Winters apartment to see him back when he lived there, following to his private suite, waiting by the bar, dollar signs shining in their greedy eyes like sparkled diamonds. Of course, this was the same maneuver tactics ladies exercised after learning of his musical production interests too.
Yet he didn't believe Gwen to be a gold digger. Not a college educated accountant. Plus there were so many good eligible men. Why him?
"Gwen..."
"Devon, can't we? Just once?"
He gently took her shoulders and pulled her up from his bed.
"Gwen, you're a lovely young woman. Like I told you before, any man would be happy to have you, but I'm in a very serious relationship."
"But Devon..."
He turned slightly, reaching for his jacket pocket, and opened black velvet box. Her widened hazel eyes grew wild.
"You're going to marry that witch?!"
"Huh?"
Devon shrank back, alarmed by high pitched tone and charged venom radiating from her body. He almost exclaimed, "I thought you two were friends!" but held the words, knowing it would blow their cover sky high.
Still, Gwen's nasty comment and unleashed fury raised questions. Maybe it was jealousy. Maybe it was insecurity. Something wasn't cool about the reserved accountant's immediate reaction. She seemed to know something beyond the surface of what she was letting on...
"I mean... I cannot believe you're getting married. You have only been with her a few months, right?"
She turned away to hide her face.
Her noticeably shaking back heightened his curiosity.
"It feels more like a lifetime," he said softly, hating to hurt her feelings worse. However, it was important that Gwen knew the depth of his love for Hilary. She was It for him. "When I propose to her-"
"Oh," Gwen sniffled. She turned then, wiping a corner of right eye. "You haven't asked her yet?"
"I will and I know that she will say yes."
"Well, she's one lucky lady."
Gwen closed the distance between them, kissing Devon's cheek with a mixture of innocent sincerity and last ditch seduction.
"Give me a call if you change you mind."
She gave a weak smile and sauntered out of the door.
Devon shook his head and drove to the cottage. He had left a few gifts for Charlie and Maddie, wanting just to swing over and pick them up. Due to a conflicting schedule, Hilary had a baby checkup, causing Devon not to spend so much time at Charlie and Maddie's birthday party. So this visit, a makeup gathering, was merely another reason for the twins to spend time with their favorite uncle and enjoy more cake.
Time got the best of him though. He stared at the mantle photograph. His hand reached for framed portrait, a finger brushing against Hilary's smiling mouth. They looked so happy together, so hopeful for their future as a couple, as an expectant family. He almost teared up, remembering days in foster care, the need for family, for a belonging where love was aplenty.
Dru and Neil gave that to him.
"We're going to provide that too, Baby," he whispered. "You're going to be so loved."
/
At Lily and Cane's, a sea of loud, rambunctious children stirred Devon's heart, intensifying joyous excitement of upcoming parenthood. He paid the bellhop who had placed wrapped boxes on a large dolly and helped transport the heavy wheeled cart straight to the front door. As Devon looked upon full attendance, he was eager to share the amazing news with his family, especially his father and Lily. Hilary, though, seemed to the best person who knew and he was thankful enough for that treasure. Hilary made him beyond the realm of happy.
Charlie and Maddie came straight to him, running and hugging his legs.
"Uncle Devon! Uncle Devon!" They chanted.
"Hello! Hello!" He greeted, playfully mocking them. "How are my favorite niece and nephew?"
"We're great!" Charlie exclaimed.
"I can speak for myself," Maddie cheerily retorted. "I'm great, Uncle Devon. Will you have cake with us?"
"Of course, I'll have cake with you guys."
"But first things first," Lily said, pulling her brother away, "the adult part of this party."
"Lily, but-" Devon started.
"Mommy," Charlie and Maddie groaned.
"Don't worry," Lily called out to her pouting angels, "he'll be right back."
They scurried off, pleased that their uncle wouldn't leave early as he did on their birthday.
"What's this adult entertainment?" Devon asked, cackling.
"I hired a fortune teller, Miss Madame Tableau."
Devon burst out laughing.
"What makes you think that I would want to see her?"
"It's just for fun. You'll never guess what she told Sharon after she dropped off Faith."
"Well, I want no part in that."
"C'mon. She's great. It'll help you get over your mooning over your secret girlfriend for a bit. C'mon. Let's go."
"Grrrrrrr. Just this once."
"You certainly went above and beyond the call of duty," Lily whispered, gesturing at the large amount of boxed gifts.
"I couldn't help myself," Devon said, chuckling.
"I feel sorry for your first kid. You'll spoil him or her rotten."
"I can only imagine..."
"What's that?"
"What's what?"
"That look in your eyes. You've been talking about children with your girlfriend? This early?"
"Well..."
"She better not be pregnant." Lily laughed, tickling his arm. "You're just not ready to be a parent right now."
"Why do you say that?" He grew serious, reacting to her tone, as if the idea of him being a father ludicrous.
"I love you Devon, but you're a known playboy. You're not ready to settle down just yet. Trust me. I know. Having kids takes a lot of time, energy, devotion, and mostly love. You have to be willing to make sacrifices."
"You don't believe I can make sacrifices?"
"Not right now."
Devon grew quiet, wondering if Lily correct. She was one of the smartest people he knew. Perhaps her observations were a little spot on- a little stuck in the past, but still, that was the old Devon. If only Lily knew that he lived in a nice secluded cottage with his true love, more than prepared for his first child's entrance into his life. So, so prepared...
"Come on," Lily said, urging him onward.
"Lily, I'm not into this kind of thing," he groaned.
"Where's your sense of adventure?"
"On my ready fueled private jet."
"No Jokester!"
Lily lured him to the table and left, snickering.
Ebony skinned and thin boned, Miss Madame Tableau swam in stylish clothes mixed with jarring rainbow hues and complicated patterns, her hair covered by a massive red and orange turban, colorful, noisy beads dangling from her wrists and throat. She sat still as a statue, staring into his eyes, looking as though she had been expecting him for centuries. There was something true about her voodoo spirit, the invisible supernatural magics swirling around her.
Why had Lily invited this woman?
"Hello there, Sir," authentic Jamaican accent rolled out welcome.
"Hi Miss Tableau, I'm Devon, Lily's brother," he said.
"I know who you are." her head nodded towards the empty seat. "Now let me read your leaves to see if there's more riches to be had for a billionaire."
Devon rolled his eyes, picking up tea leaves and dumping crushed green earth in the wide cerulean water bowl.
They watched floating and disintegration.
"Oh," she moaned, smiling. "You have found your soul mate."
"Yes." He couldn't help grinning, thinking about Hilary.
"Your ground is strong and fertile. I see many children."
"Really?"
"Yes. But there will be difficulties with this first one."
"Difficulties? What kind of difficulties?"
"Obstacles in the way. People obstacles."
He swallowed and looked over at Lily, watching her smile at the twins.
"What can I do?"
"Be with her for as much as humanly possible, Mr. Hamilton. Otherwise you can't save them both in the end."
/
"Reuniting with your husband?" Hilary asked.
"We have a temporary long-distance relationship," Dr. Gillian responded.
"How is that working out?"
"It's hard." She applied light pressure to Hilary's abdomen. "Are you thinking about moving to Los Angeles?"
"Oh no!" Hilary cried, laughing. "My home is in Wisconsin."
"You and Devon seem so happy together, so excited for the baby too."
"We're in love."
Dr. Gillian slid the paper gown back over Hilary's stomach.
Hilary sighed, having been told earlier that Neil escorted her collapsed form to the hospital. It was a very disconcerting thought. For there was no telling what he did while she was unconscious...
"Why not tell the world?" Dr. Gillian inquired. "I see the way you look at each other. Your love is real."
"It's complicated," Hilary admitted.
Her best friend Sharon knew and that seemed enough.
Yet the reappearance of her father kindled a new wave of burning caution mixed with familiar childhood elation- an uneasy threat coming to the surface. No matter how much she tried to hate the man, seeing him again after so many years brought old memories.
But he had murdered two innocent people most importantly Lyd, her sweet, brazen spirited sister which led to Rose's descent into alcoholic madness...
"Everything is fine with Peanut," Dr. Gillian said. "Vitals are normal. Organs are developing strong and healthy. So far so good. However, it's the stress levels for Mommy-to-be that I'm most concerned about, Hilary. I think the stress primarily has something to do with why you're keeping this relationship a secret. It won't be soon before long that everyone knows- about the baby that is."
Hilary's face contorted in fearful panic. She had no idea how long they should continue carrying on the charade. Devon was keen on telling everyone. She was already near showing time.
She flash backed to Lily pushing her in the pool and her nasty retorts. The stress would only heighten once Lily discovered Hilary and Devon were seeing each other, that they were deeply in love and expecting their first child. She would likely throw the world's most outrageous hissy fit.
Blocked memories of Lyd's death came plummeting.
After a crushing sacrifice in London, Hilary had vowed never to do anything remotely horrible for Douglas Turner ever again.
He had destroyed their family, her life. And she was not going to make the same mistake twice in a fortuitous turn of events.
She internally vowed to be a good mother to her children and knew that Devon would be the best father ever. Her heart couldn't have chosen a better protector to cherish and honor...
"Hilary?" Dr. Gillian interrupted. "Are you alright?"
"Yes. I'm fine," Hilary responded.
"It's a lot to take in, isn't it?"
"I just want this baby to make it in the world without drama. That's all I want."
"He or she will. You just have to stay calm."
Dr. Gillian left the room.
Hilary immediately changed into her clothes. She called Devon. His cell went straight to voice mail. Although it was pleasing to hear his delightful rich voice, she much preferred him live.
When the doctor returned, Hilary unveiled troubled anxiety.
"Can you tell me why you bailed out on last minute?" Hilary asked, recalling oddity of her lonely flight with Neil.
"Bailed out?" Dr. Gillian swallowed and blinked too fast.
"You were supposed to be on that jet."
"Yes, I know."
Dr. Gillian turned away, pretending to be focused on file folders.
"I know you must miss your husband. I'm missing Devon like crazy right now. What I don't understand is how you could call off so last minute when I needed you the most. A jet is far faster than flying coach."
"Hilary, I'm sorry."
"Neil has something on you?"
"Why would you ask that?"
"Turn around and look at me. Be honest or I'll find another obstetrician."
"Look, I'm having an affair okay. Somehow Mr. Winters found out."
/
Lurking in dimmed shadows, hiding behind tall potted palm plants, Mason watched Hilary celebrate with Paul and Christine Williams, two of Genoa City's finest cheese heads, and the premiere couple of the fashion world, Maya and Rick Forester. Muted candles and iridescent bulbs cast flickering spotlight on his ex, showcasing decadent radiance- true splendorous beauty of expectant motherhood. With black goddess hair up in a sophisticated topknot, loose curls framing her exuberant face, she wore a loose fitting red dress matching a sensuous lipstick Eve would use to take Adam off his righteous path. For briefest second, he imagined himself in the framed photograph, the head of their family, holding joyous brown skinned newborn is his arms.
He quickly looked away uncomfortably, gritting his teeth whilst smashing foolish old dreams, pondering next vengeful move- a closer step to money and power.
For starters, he wasn't pleased with being blackmailed twice over. Two superior monkeys were on his back, holding every last trump card, each determined to make a fool out of him.
He wanted to keep his freedom. After all, Jack called him an hour ago, offering bait at the bottom as a junior assistant, likely due to Neil's well-worded tongue. To be the big fish, Mason figured he had to eat as much Jabot bait as possible while carrying on Neil's sadistic plans to destroy the billionaire's love life by killing a seed and taking the prize.
Still, Douglas's threats were not taken lightly. The deceptive murderer also knew how to twist arms.
Repercussions weighed on Mason's mind. Nothing would be simple. Not in the minutes he had left to spare. The decision to pick between more prison time or Hilary finding out he plotted to miscarry her baby proved to be quite a difficult pickle.
Mason didn't want to be on the receiving end of Neil Winters maddening descent into demented looney toon land.
Hilary wasn't going to be a crying damsel either.
She would likely cut off his manhood and dump it in the Nile River.
"Well, as my mother always said, 'let go and let God," he groaned miserably.
With no eyes in his direction, he mixed the potion in one drink and left it up to fates to decide...
/
Neil swirled bitter warm seltzer, wishing it was either bourbon on the rocks, Jack mixed with sweet Coke, or even the good cognac straight up. Alcohol would make for a better victory drink. He had worked long and hard on this twisted plan to dissolve unnecessary baby. The temptation of another fresh cold inebriated elixir could sustain his lecherous joy. Yet last thing he needed was a foolish wrench. The paramedics would smell it on his breath when he rode with them holding comatose Hilary's delicate hand. The whole "I'm clean and sober" routine had to stay solid.
No need for upstarting investigative questioning and motive.
"I'm being ridiculous," he said to himself, chuckling. "No one would suspect me."
He hummed an oldie, dreaming about Hilary being all his and Devon tied up to Gwen.
Oh yes. Neil wanted to pull Gwen deeper into his web.
Perhaps he could have their stupid hideaway cottage destroyed and a new home built in the ashes of the great wrong.
Suddenly, a commotion of loud screams and breaking glasses overwhelmed eclectic house music. The chaos deepened Neil's happiness.
Maya and Rick came scrambling over, breathing hard, terror lining their faces.
"What's going on?" Neil hurried out, hiding pleasure, hiding beaming happiness over Hilary's condition.
"It's Christine," Rick announced grimly. Maya stood at his side, clasping his waist protectively.
"Huh?" He was dumbfounded, slamming his glass on the counter harder than needed. "Christine Blair?"
"I guess. We didn't get her last name."
"What's going on with her?"
"Man! She's on the floor having a seizure and bleeding everywhere!"