A Kept Woman {Sample}

Chapter 2: Home Life

        Harvey entered the house through the foyer to the sounds of Blaire's and Cassandra's voices going back and forth. Cassandra saw Harvey before Blaire did and used it to her advantage. 

        "Daddy, tell her that I can go," Cassandra whined, coming over to tuck herself under his arm, knowing Harvey had her back. "Tell her that I'm going to South Africa," she told him. 

        "Cassie, go on up to your room, baby," he told her. 

        Cassandra gave her mother a dirty look and stalked off towards the marble staircase. Harvey waited until he heard the door slam and turned to his wife. 

        "We've had this discussion, Blaire." 

        "No, we are not letting her go to Africa," she hissed. "She can do the same thing in London or Bordeaux or—"

        "A European city," he finished for her, looking down at her while she tried to give him all sorts of places their daughter should go that weren't Africa. 

        Harvey looked down at his fair-skinned wife. She was so light that she looked more like a white woman with a slight tan. She had gotten more plastic surgery than any of the Jacksons, making her nose more pointy and thin; she got Botox, had liposuction on her ass — which at one point had been round and healthy and he loved it— and got infusion extensions down to her ass, her hair dyed chocolate brown. Most people thought Blaire's hair was her own because she didn't have tracks. They didn't know what money could buy her. 

        Harvey had seen Blaire without her extensions, and her hair was shoulder-length, which was fine with him. He didn't understand why she needed hair down to her ass. 

        When Harvey first met Blaire, she had a plump ass, her black hair at a normal length, and a face that was pretty and didn't resemble a cat. Now, he was married to a piece of plastic. 

        He had tried to talk her down from every surgery she'd gotten, but she wanted to look so much like her "friends". She didn't care about being pleasing to the eye to the man who slept with her. She was a Barbie. No way around it.  

        After the liposuction on her ass, Harvey could not stand to touch Blaire. Another woman would have killed for the ass she did not want.  

        Harvey hated that Blaire constantly tore down anything that had to do with being black. He refused to allow her to put that self-hating "wish I wasn't black" mentality on his children and especially his daughter.  

        "Yes, a European city," she confirmed. "I do not want my baby in Africa." 

        "Why? Her grandparents are South African. She's going to be staying with them." 

        "Oh, Harvey, please," she told him, rolling her eyes. "You haven't even managed to completely lose that accent. Besides, it will be a lot better for her to go to Europe. She'll have a better experience." 

        "First things first, Blaire, I don't have a problem with having an accent. I came from a damn beautiful country. There is nothing wrong with her experiencing her roots while she studies. And if you didn't notice, she doesn't have roots in those European countries." 

        "My father's great grandfather was Italian, and my mother's parents are French and Italian. She does have roots." 

        "First off, your mother is adopted and she is black. Second of all, your great, great grandfather? Really, Blaire, you're so proud to tell people about your European roots, but someone says something about Africa and oh Lord!"