C.A.K.E

Chapter 10: Wicked Witch of the East, Part II

The instant his feet hit the cold lobby floor, he wishes he could get his hands on a DeLorean and a flux

capacitor.

He'd tell his past self to run for the hills when the red-headed step-daughter of his father's golf buddy

comes strolling into his parents' house.

The one time he was depending on her to be herself, she chooses to play the role of a concerned

mother and show up here.

"Elliott Finley Stone." Melinda stops fighting Edward and saunters over to his side. "How are you, Fin?"

Everyone calls him either Elliott or Eli. She's the one person who uses his middle name, and she insists

upon addressing him as Finley or Fin. Melinda says Finley is a much more distinguished name than

Elliott. Truth is, she loves calling him that because she knows he detests it.

He gulps down air and runs his hands over his hair. Eli blinks as his eyes adjust to her. Just looking at

her takes everything out of him.

The first Mrs. Stone is the captain and head coach of Team Too Much.

Almost two in the morning, and she's wearing a lace Gucci dress with a side slit that hits about mid-

thigh, with a pair of sheer black stockings, topped off with a pair of nosebleed heels. Her bleached

mane has been coaxed into soft ringlets that frame her face. A blood-red lipstick tints her lips.

Melinda couldn't have been too worried about the twins, since she took the time to get dolled up like a

high-priced call girl.

She looks good. He won't lie. But she still can't hold a candle to Arden.

Stripped down to her birthday suit, and not a touch of makeup, Ardi's still beautiful. More attractive in

fact. She's not trying to impress anyone, and that's what makes her so stunning. Somehow because

she's not asking for the attention, it makes her more worthy of it.

Melinda on the other hand, needs the layers of makeup, the designer clothes, and the constant

reassurance. So much so that she'll bring up her appearance just so people can comment on it.

After about six months of dating, Elliott ran out of genuine compliments and would volunteer a half-

hearted, 'yeah, that's nice,' whenever she went fishing for flattery.

Nowadays, he keeps words with Mel to a minimum, and what she's wearing tonight garners nothing

more than an aggravated smirk from him.

Elliott keeps checking the door for Melinda's usual entourage. She never travels without her latest male

conquest and personal assistant.

With a nationally ranked television show under her belt, she is somewhat of a big deal. Dressed to the

9s with Melinda Carven-Stone airs every Thursday night at nine eastern on the Style network. The

show has won several primetime television awards since its premiere three years ago.

You have to give a simple girl from the backwoods of Alabama credit. It's an amazing feat to be

recognized for your talent in such a public manner. And Melinda is great at what she does, maybe even

the best.

But her goddamned attitude overshadows every positive thing about her.

He's never seen a stylist who's more high maintenance than any of her clients, and she works with the

best of young Hollywood.

A whiny, entitled twenty-something would be a more welcome sight for Eli than his ex-wife at this hour.

"Melinda."

"Three years of marriage, two kids and all I get is a dry, Melinda? I think I deserve more than that."

She inches closer and runs her fingers through his curls. Then she lets her hand trail down the side of

his face to his chest, heading further south.

Eli catches her hand and throws it back at her. "Let's not get into what you deserve."

"Elliott, all these years and you're still bitter. Let it go. I have ..." She strokes his cheek. "You got your

little whore, didn't you?"

He corrects her. "I got my wife, Melinda. My wife."

"Splitting hairs, Eli." Melinda shrugs. "Were you not still a married man when you met her?"

Always the same shit, different day with her. They have some variation of this argument every time they

speak.

"I'm not getting into this with you. You know damn well what the situation was."

"You weren't single."

"I wasn't in a relationship either. There's a certain give and take to those kinds of things. But what

would a parasite know about a partnership?"

Her eyes become dark slits of Maybelline smoky liner and Very Black mascara.

"Blame me, if that helps you sleep next to your little black girl. Enjoy the jungle fever while it lasts. I'll be

around when it burns out of you."

She touches him again. And again he removes her offending appendage from his person.

"Arden and I will be celebrating our thirteenth wedding anniversary this year. Whatever she's doing is

working. So you might want to ask my gorgeous, intelligent, thoughtful wife, who happens to be

African-American, what her secret is."

Elliott hears a minute crackling. Melinda must be grinding her capped teeth into powder. He just lit a

match in an oil tanker.

She creeps closer to him until he can see the touch of gray at her crown, defiant and ready to show her

true age. The perfume she all but bathes in hits him in the face like a thorn-ridden bouquet of roses.

"Has she given you any little swirly babies yet?" Melinda smiles at him, baring her fangs.

Now it's Elliott's turn to grind his enamel into dust. His face strains to maintain an even expression.

She just loves mentioning her handiwork. Melinda is the single reason there isn't a tiny person with

Elliott's thick sandy curls, and Arden's beautiful brown eyes running around their house.

Melinda and Elliott separated six months after the twins were born. She was still trying to establish her

career, and two screaming infants didn't fit into her schedule.

Elliott was in the midst of his doctoral thesis. So the twins ended up with his parents during the day and

reading over anthropological theories with their dad at night.

Whenever Mel did make it home, she ignored Eli and the twins. She couldn't even be bothered to make

a bottle of formula. If Eli left Melinda alone with the children, there was no guarantee she wouldn't leave

them in the house to fend for themselves.

After a while, it just made more sense for him and Melinda to stop pretending they were an actual

family.

He and the kids moved in with his parents, and his life revolved around school and the twins. Melinda

was more concerned with the way all of this made her look, rather than her children spending very little

time bonding with their mother.

She made very few brief appearances to see her babies. The most she would do is pluck them from

their cribs, give them a quick peck on the cheek, then deposit the children into the arms of Eli's mother.

She'd dash out the door as quickly as she'd come, leaving two crying infants for someone else to quiet.

She lived under the mistaken assumption that she had time. That Eli, Ro, and Tea would wait around

until she was ready to include them in her life. Well, everyone knows what happens when one

assumes.

Elliott met Arden two days before the twins' first birthday, and the four of them have been inseparable

ever since.

He knew he had met the one woman who was meant for him. All he had to do was rid himself of

Melinda.

Mel knew she and Eli were on the outs. She saw how he was with Arden, and realized he was a

different person when the other woman was around him. He was a better version of himself.

Whenever Arden spoke, he listened. Every time they were together, he couldn't keep his hands off her.

He held her hand, caressed her cheek, complimented her every move, kissed her like no one else was

around no matter where they were. He wouldn't shut up about her.

Eli was in love.

Arden was younger, cultured, and the daughter of a well-liked political figure. She already had it all and

now she was taking Melinda's husband. And the takeover was quick.

Elliott filed for divorce one week after meeting Ardi.

Within two weeks, Elliott had introduced Arden to his parents. And they too were smitten with her.

He had wanted to make it work with Melinda for the twins' sake. But there was no reason to be

miserable when he could have everything he ever wanted with Arden.

Elliott never told Arden that he was still married in the eyes of the law. To her knowledge, Melinda was

his ex-wife, not his estranged wife. And for this reason, Eli's head earned a permanent spot on Mel's

guillotine.

Like everything with Melinda, she wasn't going to make the divorce nice and easy for Elliott.

She fought him tooth and nail on everything—alimony, their house, investments. Melinda made a fuss

over the littlest shit. Like who was going to get the crystal figurines his parents gave them as a wedding

present.

None of it mattered to him. She could have it all, even the clothes off his back. Eli would give her

anything just to move on with Arden, and that killed her.

So she hit him where it hurt.

Melinda threatened to sue for full custody of the twins unless Elliott agreed to have a vasectomy.

At first, he flat out refused. But then Melinda made her ultimatum clearer. She threatened to go abroad

with the kids, get lost in the European countryside, and never return.

Eli knew she was just crazy enough to do it. It was either never see his twins again, or give up having

kids with the woman he loved.

Either way, he was going to lose something. But he had to protect his children that were already here.

He couldn't worry about hypothetical babies with Arden that might never have happened. That didn't

stop him from mourning for them, though.

It was an impossible decision, but he made it. Melinda regained some of the control she felt she'd lost

over Eli, and exacted a sick pleasure from hurting both of them.

If Arden was going to have Elliott she was going to be getting damaged goods. She wanted the young

woman to experience the inferiority and anguish that she felt when Eli decided to leave. In her mind,

she had found a way to take Ardi down a peg.

He has never mentioned to Arden the real reason he chose to have the vasectomy. He claimed it was

because he discovered he was a carrier for a genetic disorder. He didn't want to risk having any more

kids who might develop the disease, or pass on the gene to their children.

Elliott said he didn't tell Melinda about the procedure right away, because she never would have

forgiven him for deciding without discussing it with her first. Then other problems took the place of that

issue, and they separated before he got a chance to bring up the subject. After the divorce, he decided

that telling her the news would only make her more vengeful.

Arden believed him, applauded him for being so proactive. And even in the face of Melinda's frequent

put-downs about her supposed infertility, she has never mentioned a word about the vasectomy to Mel.

She wouldn't dream of breaking Elliott's confidence, and he knows it.

He hated lying to Arden. But telling her the truth didn't seem right either.

Arden already does an exceptional job at putting up with Melinda's shit. This tidbit of information might

break that incredible self-control, and Mel is not worth a life sentence in a maximum-security prison.

Plus, he can't stand how weak the whole arrangement makes him seem. Melinda couldn't have him,

and he couldn't live without Arden. So he let Mel take his balls, in the most literal sense of the

expression.

He couldn't tell Arden that he had let his vicious and vindictive ex dictate the direction of their life

together. Besides, revealing that truth would also mean uncovering yet another lie—that he made Ardi

the unwitting mistress. He didn't want to take the chance that she'd leave if he told her the truth about

his and Melinda's relationship at the time.

Elliott cannot lose Arden. Not then, and damn sure not now. Not after waking up to her face every

morning for the past twelve years.

But every time Mel is around, that harsh reality becomes a distinct possibility. Eli can only hope that if

Melinda does decide to tell Arden, she won't believe her.

Elliott continues to glare at Melinda, as his mind races down memory lane. The anger from so many

years ago is coming back, singeing his skin beet red. The rage is new every time he lets himself think

about it.

He collects himself, then answers her question.

"Nope, no kids yet. But maybe that's because she's been too busy raising yours."

Capillaries break their thin walls and flush her cheeks a bright crimson. He's hit another nerve with her.

"That's right, Fin. My kids. And she'd do well to remember that."

"It seems you're the only one who needs reminding of that fact."

Before Melinda can pounce on Elliott, another nut adds itself to the fruitcake.

A tall, slender man in a white linen shirt and pants storms into the lobby. He slicks a cowlick away from

his face and takes a drag from a thin cigarette. Three buttons of his shirt are open, flaunting the dark

hair on his chest.

"I'm sorry, sir. You can't smoke in here," Edward informs the young man.

Edward extends an ashtray to him. The man smirks at Edward, takes another pull, then glances down

at the glass receptacle. Keeping his eyes on the concierge, he puts the cigarette out on the polished

floor.

He smooths his hand over his slicked-back hair, lights another cigarette, and walks over to Melinda.

"Did you get the little fuckers yet?"

Elliott knew Melinda would never show up without a new piece of meat to dangle in front of him. But

even this swarthy Latino isn't enough to make Eli feel anything but contempt for her.

"Armando, I thought you were going to wait in the car."

His pale green eyes dilate to twice their size. "In this neighborhood?"

"Don't you think you're being a little dramatic, honey?"

"I just found out this country ass state doesn't even have a decent vegan restaurant. We need to catch

the next plane out of this shit hole."

"We will." She peeks back at Eli over her shoulder. "As soon as, Finley hands over my kids."

"I'm willing to discuss that. Right after you tell me who the hell this is." Eli nods to Armando, who smirks

and blows a puff of smoke his way.

"This is Armando Christian. My fiancé."

"The model," Armando adds.

Melinda snakes her body around the thin reed of a man.

Elliott shrugs. "What is he, like twelve?"

"I'm thirty-four, asshole."

"You're not the only one who can rob the cradle." She smirks at Eli.

"That is your specialty, remember? You're four years older than I am. So that means you're over a

decade older than the tiny tike here." Eli smirks and folds his arms across his chest. "Beats my record

by a longshot."

Melinda glares at him. "Where are my kids?"

"Upstairs ... with their mother." He couldn't resist.

Her face catches fire, rage burning in every pore. "That homewrecker will never be anyone's mother."

"You know, you did everything possible to make sure of that. But it didn't work. She is Rowan and

Teagan's mother."

"She is a placeholder for me," Melinda growls.

"When they were eight months old, you left Ro and Tea inside a car for an hour in the middle of July."

He scoffs and runs his hand through his hair. "I can't imagine why the twins would prefer her over you."

She steps into Elliott's space. "Either you give me my children, or I'm calling the police."

"Please do. And call Child Protective Services while you're at it. I'd love to explain to them how your lax

parenting skills allowed two teenagers to just disappear." He leans down to her level. "I bet Enrique

over there has a little white girl stashed in the car. And I ain't talking about Emma Watson."

Elliott addresses Armando and asks how he feels about sausage and orange jumpsuits. Melinda

thrusts her bony hand into Eli's chest, and pushes him back from the model.

She reduces her voice to a harsh whisper. "Do you realize that I could make your life a living hell if I

wanted to?"

"You already did once. I made it out just fine."

Melinda glances down at Elliott's crotch. "Let's ask Arden about that."

Elliott bites his tongue. He hasn't been around his ex-wife for fifteen minutes, and he already has a

splitting headache. Melinda heads for the resident elevators, pulling Armando after her. He doesn't

follow.

"Why don't we leave lover boy downstairs?"

"Where she goes, I go." Armando stands defiant and takes another puff of his cigarette.

She must be paying a pretty penny for this one to be so devoted.

"Then you can both get the hell out of my building."

"What is the big deal?" Mel asks.

"I don't want him near my kids. He's the reason they came back home."

"They just need to get used to Armando. To do that, they need to be with us in New York."

"Ro and Tea don't like him."

Armando scoffs. "The feeling is mutual."

Elliott switches focus to Melinda's boy toy. "I know it may be difficult for you to tell. But the adults are

talking."

Armando smirks and goes back to his homemade cigarette. This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org: ©.

"Feeling threatened, Fin?" Melinda plays with the collar of Eli's shirt. "Even a little jealous?"

Eli tucks his hands into his pockets, and rocks back on his heels.

"You would love that, wouldn't you?"

"Maybe it's the truth. Maybe you're ready to play in the big leagues again."

"I left you, remember? And never once have I ever thought of looking back. So if you're keeping your

body Botoxed and plumped for me, you're wasting precious time and money."

"Even youth loses its splendor, Elliott."

"And bitterness drains beauty. You can attest to that."

Melinda gets quiet and sucks in a breath of air through her gritted teeth. Another win for Eli.

"You are a pathetic little man," Armando smirks at Elliott.

"Don't you have a cousin to pick up at the border?" Eli quips.

"My family was born here, motherfucker."

Elliott fires another insult. "A squatter isn't born, it's hatched."

Armando makes a move toward Elliott, and he just laughs.

"I'm sure she's not paying you enough to fuck with me. Jump back."

"Melinda is a separate matter. My problem with you just became personal."

Armando infringes upon Elliott's little bubble, bumping his chest into Eli's. He uses Elliott's shoulder to

extinguish his blunt, singeing the delicate silk and wool blend fabric of his shirt. The touch of fire stings

a bit, but Eli doesn't take notice of any discomfort.

"Dr. Stone, should I alert the police," Edward asks, phone in hand poised to dial.

He should have done that twenty minutes ago when Melinda came storming in here. Elliott never

should have put her on the authorized visitors list.

Elliott waves back at Edward over his shoulder. He doesn't take his eyes off Armando.

"That won't be necessary, Edward. He's leaving right now."

Melinda steps in between the two men. "He isn't going anywhere, and neither am I. So deal with it."

"I don't want you here. Which means your continued presence is unlawful. And you don't need another

trespassing charge on your record."

Melinda's wounded expression lets him know he's onto something. Maybe Eli just found some much-

needed leverage.

He continues. "Bet the producers of your little show don't know their star has a rap sheet. Wonder what

would happen if they were to find out."

"You don't have the balls," she taunts him.

"You're right, I don't." He sighs. "But I do have the studio head's direct number."

Melinda's subsequent explosion is interrupted by the sound of the elevator descending to the lobby.

The heavy steel doors slide apart, and an angel steps into the tense atmosphere of the marble

accented space.