His hands went to his mouth and his brow wrinkled like a slept on pillow. He showed pain and sorrow for what he caused.
“I love you princess. I can’t change what happened then. I made so many mistakes. I wish I could take all of it back from the tragic accident of Paige…”
“What accident?” I questioned.
He let out a hard sigh. “Paige died in a car accident.” His quivering lips made a downward curve and his hand covered his mouth. He stroked his light beard. He was clearly nervous. “I had a fight with Angela and I got drunk. I went to Paige’s house and she jumped into my Porsche, and the last thing I remember was her telling me to put on my seat belt and to slow down.”
“You were drinking when I met you,” I stated. “Were you drinking then?”
“Yes. Paige had been dead only two months before I met you,” he said.
“And you were marrying Angela?” I said in disgust.
“I had to. Her father got me out of the murder charge and DWI charges and kept things out of the papers. He owned the papers. She knew I didn’t love her and she sure as hell didn’t love me. So we made an agreement that we would marry and we would get a divorce soon after.”
“I guess that didn’t work out,” I said even more alarmed at the thought of what had happened to Jordan and Paige.
“Brandon. I’m not asking your permission,” I hesitated, “and I don’t think we can see each other for a while. You haven’t been good for me. Please leave me alone,” I begged. “You are married and there is a scandal. I shouldn’t see you. This is all a mistake.” My words came out disjointed and I was making things up without thinking about what I had said.
He walked to me, took my arms and turned me around. “It’s not a mistake. I don’t want you to get involved with Jordan until I find Angela.”
“You can’t ask that of me. I won’t allow you to come between what little happiness I will have in the future,” I said.
“I’m going to do whatever is in my power to stop you. I need you and I love you princess. Don’t do this to me.”
“Don’t do this to you. I’ve endured five hellish years away from you thinking of you every day. You never tried to get in contact with me and now when I have a chance for a job and a man who likes me for me, you tell me that you will prevent me from having any kind of happiness. It’s not about you anymore Brandon. It’s about me. I want you to leave. Leave me now!”
He turned without saying a word and with a slow walk, made it to the door and closed it and locked it. I felt nervous that he still had a key. I called Chris and she agreed that I should change the locks and she would speak to Brandon.
Chapter 20
When I spoke to Chris about the locks on the door, I mentioned that I needed a black dress for my date with Jordan. She gladly suggested that I wear a spectacular black number with a side slit up to my crotch. She gave me advice. “If you wear that dress,” she said, “you will have to shave everything.”
“Everything?”
“Everything,” she said.
I selected another equally seductive designer black dress hanging alongside the infamous shave everything dress. It wasn’t me. A little too risqué and daring. I placed a pair of borrowed black satin pumps with red soles on my feet. Although they were daring, I took a chance. I had to steady myself because I wasn’t use to walking in heels over three inches. The last pair Chris loaned me lay in ruins on a beach in Maine.
Passing and taking a critical glance in the ceiling to floor length mirror, I had to admit, I looked damn good. Like I said before, I couldn’t recognize myself because it wasn’t me dressed in designer clothes which probably cost a small fortune. It wasn’t that young girl from Trenton, New Jersey who was afraid of her shadow. It wasn’t that young girl who thought that the world was fair, and I wasn’t that young girl who thought she would marry her prince charming.
He was married to someone else, and I died every time I pictured Brandon having sex with Angela.
I died somewhere between meeting Brandon Charles and losing Brandon Charles. But now was the time to be reborn. “Hell yes!” I said turning around and checking the back of my dress which was cut to my waist.
The buzzer went off twice and I said to Jordan, “I’ll be there in a minute.” I didn’t want Jordan coming up because the apartment was in a mess and it smelled like sex. The smell of Brandon’s sexual aroma mixed with shower jell layered the sheets. If I had time I would have picked it up and placed it to my nose to get one more scent. I lay in it all day reminding myself that he was there with me making love to my body. Kissing my legs, kissing my breasts and penetrating me. Just the thought of it made me wet. I had lost all shame with him. I had lost myself and I needed some air, and someone new to neutralize his hold on me.
***
“Oh wow! What a woman you are when you slip out of those business suits,” Jordan said with a sparkle in his eyes. “A woman like you need the best in life that a man like me can afford.” I smiled at Jordan and climbed into the car. He handed me a bouquet of red roses.
When Jordan entered after me he sat gazing at me. “You’re so handsome in that tux,” I said straitening his bow tie. We complemented each other.
“We make a great couple,” he said. “I bet no one will take their eyes off you.”
“This is all too new to me, Jordan. I don’t know what to say or how to act. I haven’t had any training in meeting important people.”
“You don’t need any training. You’re smart and well versed and have a good education, most of these old billionaires are only interested in your beauty anyway. Stay by my side and you won’t have a problem. Just go along with what I say and smile.” He reached across to me and placed his hand over mine and squeezed it. Somehow I felt a little comfort in what he said.
With all this positive stuff going on, I still had to ask myself, what the hell am I doing here anyway. I felt as if someone dragged me into this life and I was kicking and screaming to get out. It was just too stressful having to dress, laugh with people you don’t like, listen to their stupid talk when I could be in bed watching a movie and eating a bowl of ice cream getting ready for work on Monday.
“Tyler…Tyler. What are you thinking about?”
“Oh, nothing,” I said to Jordan. Thank god people can’t read minds, I thought.
The limo stopped and his driver opened the door. We stepped out into a group of photographers and reporters. “Why are they here?” I queried.
I held Jordan’s hand tight. I harbored this fear of falling in the high heels, but most of all, I was just frightened by all these people. I imagined saying and doing the wrong thing. Ms. Sophistication I wasn’t. Jordan smiled and said, “We are the movers and shakers of the world, and we are news, especially if we own and run the banking institutions.” He turned facing the cameras. He loved the attention he was getting.
I finally made it up the steps without falling. We stood in front of the door to the museum, and then someone shouted, “That’s Tyler Burns with Longworth.” A crowd of reporters surrounded us and someone stuck a mike in my face and said, “Are you the mistress of Brandon Charles? Where is Angela Charles?”
Jordan stepped in front of the microphone and said, “This is my fiancé and she has nothing to say at this time. Please allow us to enjoy the evening. This is a very important fund raising event. Children with cancer are depending on this money. Thank you.” And just like that the circle opened and we marched through and into the event.
We were seated close to the stage. By the way the tables were arranged, Jordan had plenty of clout. He smiled, held my hand and never left my side. After we took a tour of the museum we returned to the table and waiters began pouring drinks. “I hope the Champaign is to your liking.”
The waiter poured a full glass. I sipped a little of it. When Jordan noticed he said, “Go on drink. You’re not driving and you don’t have to be to work until Monday. Besides you are my fiancé,” he said with a wink. I drank a gla
ss full and when I looked the waiter had filled it again. This time I took it slow but it was too late. I felt tipsy.
Finally I got the nerve to ask him, “What is this about me being your fiancé?”
“That was something to say to get the reporters away from us.”
“I hope my past association with Brandon won’t cause you any problems,” I said to Jordan.
“I don’t let people dictate my life. You see all of those rich people at that table,” he said nodding at them. “I know all their secrets. Not all of them are as rich as they pretend. They come to me for money for their businesses. I decide their fates. I know where the bodies are buried, but I’m discreet and they know it.”
“Is that what’s going on with you and Brandon?”
“No. Brandon is a shrewd business man. He has and can make me very rich.”
“I heard something about you from Brandon.” When I said those words our dinner lay before us. We ate as I watched Jordan use all of the many spoons and forks set before us. It appeared there were spoons, forks, and knives for every dish and the food kept coming. I ate a small portion and when the desert and coffee arrived, I had had enough of the good life.
The orchestra played something slow and easy. Jordan turned gazed at me, stood, and held out his hand. The music barely heard over the conversations of hundreds of people. When Jordan held me, surprising enough I felt something for him. Maybe it was a feeling of security that I needed at this time. I couldn’t deny that he was a handsome man. I was seeing him for the first time. I looked to his face and his eyes were closed. I needed to enjoy the moment but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it would be short.
When the song came to an end we both found it hard to break away from each other and surprisingly I had my eyes closed. I followed Jordan back to his seat with him leading the way and holding my hand through a crowd of people trying to get his attention. Finally we made it through the throng of inebriated rich old men and their wives, and sat. The music ceased and someone walked to the mike on stage.
“All you beautiful women who aren’t married, I want you to walk to the center of the floor and make a circle so everyone can see you.” I looked at Jordan.
“You have to go,” he said. “It’s for the children.”
I stood closed my eyes briefly and leaned into him and whispered, “Did you know about this?”
“The only thing I know is that we have an auction every year and it’s different. Go on it’s going to be fun.” I stood and smiled, bit my lip, and walked to the dance floor.
“Now gentleman, you are going to bid for the opportunity to dance with one of these lovely women of your choice. Only one bid and you have to be the first and it has to be high. When you finish bidding, then you stand in front of the woman and hold her hand. When everyone has been taken, then the dancing will begin.” The man in the black tux with graying hair smiled as if he was reliving his youth and stepped down from the stage.
He stood by the first girl and someone shouted, “One hundred thousand.” A young man in his twenties stepped from his table and stood facing the young girl of eighteen.
The bidding went fast and because I was the last to get into the circle, and before the announcer could walk around to me, someone shouted, “One Million dollars.” Eyes grew large, whispers grew small, and out of the shadow strode Brandon Charles. I know Jordan didn’t see that coming and neither did I.
He wore a black tux with the most elegant of white shirts and a traditional black silk bow tie. His hair was combed back and it shined. His smile was to die for and when he strutted to me and took my hand, I was in paradise. I heard a protest coming from the table in front of the stage and it was Jordan standing and shouting obscenities.
The announcer walked to the table and quieted Jordan. But he looked at us as the music began to play “It Had To Be You,” and Brandon took me in his arms.
“Was this worth the million?” I questioned with my eyes glued on his gorgeous blue eyes made darker by his black suit.
“Absolutely. You’re worth every cent my princess and you look like one tonight,” he said pulling me closer into him as the orchestra played on changing the song to Paradise. “And when you’re sleeping near me, I’m in Paradise,” he whispered in my ear. His look penetrated my eyes and passed through, entering my body, and settling on my core. He eased closer to me and I felt him and he knew it when I closed my eyes in a dreamy state. When I opened them, I noticed the attention focused us, and I pulled away. I tried to mask the intense feeling Brandon gave me from being in his arms. My hands shook and he knew. He knew that I was his for the asking and taking.
“Just about now your nipples are hard. I can feel them,” he said whispering in my ear.
“You can’t feel them through this dress,” I said gathering my composure and looking down at my breasts and knowing what he said was true.
“Can you feel me?” He said with a smile as he pulled me into him. “See, I can feel everything you’re feeling now. You love me. Just say it,” he demanded. Our eyes locked.
“I love you but…haven’t we had this conversation before.” And the dance was over and Brandon was out of a million dollars.
“It was worth it,” he said still holding me in his arms. The couples had gone to their tables and there we stood in the middle of an empty floor with the spotlight on us.
“Don’t walk me back to the table,” I said. Before I could get comfortable with that sentence and tell him why I had made that statement, Jordan was standing peering at us, eyebrow lifted and mumbling, standing behind me taking my hand and turning me around in the direction of the table.
“Tyler, go back to the table. I want to talk to Brandon.” I walked away and when I turned, Jordan and Brandon were standing toe to toe shouting at each other. People were whispering and watching from their seats. I saw Jordan throw a punch and Brandon duck and hit him with a hard right to the face. Jordon got to his feet and landed one to Brandon’s jaw and he countered and Jordan caught one to the eye.
It started as a civilized fight with two young men raising their fist as if they were in a boxing ring and escalated to a knock down brawl.
People were standing on chairs to get a vantage point. I heard someone say, “They’ve been at it since college. They’re trying to determine who’s the best boxer and wrestling champion of Princeton. They never did get that resolved, maybe they will tonight,” a young man said who was about their age and someone who may have gone to college with them. He looked around at the table, “Brandon was the richer of the two and the best debater.”
“It’s more than that. They have been competing so long that they have taken things too far. Shame on them for making this night about them and not the poor little children. Shame on them for fighting over a woman. Will someone break it up before the evening is ruined and someone gets hurt?” commented a middle age woman wearing jewels that would make Queen Elizabeth envious. “I know those boys and they’re going to hurt each other.”
Chapter 21
Jordan didn’t say a word when he dropped me off at the apartment. His eye bluish-red and swollen to the size of a plum. Clearly he didn’t want to talk about it. When the limo came to a stop, he was out and looking pensive. Maybe he was wondering whether I was worth the trouble. I had to decide that as well. I needed to weigh my options and determine whether I could work with a man who had risked his reputation on me. He must have read my mind.
“This was not about you, Tyler. It built up over time and finally came to an end.” I reached into my small bag and pulled the key out and opened the door. He followed me into the building and said, “If you’re thinking about resigning, don’t.”
“As a matter of fact I was.”
“Where are you going to go?”
“I haven’t had any offers and…” We walked into the elevator and the door closed. When it opened to the floor of the loft, he began his conversation. “I can send you to work for a friend of mine where you will not fe
el uncomfortable. What do you say?”
“I have to think about where I am in my life, and what I want to do. I need the money and I need the work. This is too intense for me now what with Brandon and you fighting. For what? What was that about? I’m caught up in the middle of two rich men and someone is going to lose and it will be me,” I said exhaling. I studied his face and it appeared that all he was thinking about was coming into the apartment.
I didn’t let him in because in some way I was being true to Brandon. It was silly and childish of me but that is how I felt. But it was also stupid of me. How can you be honest to a man that is married and not be honest with a man you can have now? How fucked up can life get? I wasn’t ready for that answer.
I leaned in to kiss him. The kiss was a kiss, two lips coming together. It was a kiss for a brother. It was devoid of passion. No arousal, no tingling of body parts, Nothing fit. It was like a bad tightfitting dress when you’ve gained too much weight. It was everywhere and it was nowhere. I tried harder. No. I knew that I didn’t have it for him but he had it for me. I felt his hard protrusion and I stepped back. “I can’t invite you in because I haven’t had a chance to clean up and I’m embarrassed.” I’ve turned into such a liar, I thought. That was me dying one lie at a time.
I’m deceiving others and worst of all I’m now deceiving myself.
“Then come with me,” Jordan said. “I have an extra room and you can rest and lounge around and have my maid clean up after you.”
“As much as that sounds tempting, I can’t do that.” I hoped that if I stayed in the loft, Brandon would come to me. I knew he wouldn’t after tonight and I had to think and get some distance between us, and not have my thoughts corrupted by maid service, a handsome man who just fought the man I love, my need for male companionship, and love.
I needed to be love. Five long years had passed and I couldn’t or wouldn’t let myself go out on a date for fear I would lose the feelings I harbored for Brandon. The feelings were so intoxicating and overwhelming. Now that he’s back in my life, I find I’m doing the same thing again—denying myself the love of another man because I want to be with Brandon.
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