One Desire

Home > Other > One Desire > Page 19
One Desire Page 19

by Rice, Rachel E.


  “Look Brandon, of all the people, your friend and rival Andrew Blake with your Miss what’s-her-name. You know, one of your little sluts.”

  “Angela please be quiet,” Brandon said. He gestured and sat at his table across from us. Facing me no less.

  “Did you know anything about this?” I asked Andrew.

  “No, and if you want to leave I will understand. We’re business partners and we’re making a bid on Blackstone’s holdings in Asia. Brandon partnered with Maximilian Blackstone with a hotel. I thought we could pool our resources and buy one of Blackstone’s casinos.” He turned around looking in Brandon’s direction. “There’s no agreement to meet in Paris. This is just a coincidence.”

  Brandon said something to Angela and she reached across to slap him and he caught her hand in midair.

  “I think we should leave,” I said. When Brandon grabbed Angela’s hand, he leaned over and kissed Angela on the cheek. Is that why they married in the first place. Were they into sex games? Did they make love after a fight? I couldn’t concentrate on Andrew who looked handsome in his black suit. I didn’t see Andrew because of the fire in my eyes over Brandon’s kiss.

  It wasn’t a slow burning kiss that he gave Angela, but a kiss on the lips nonetheless. I thought he couldn’t stand her but I thought he wasn’t having sex with her either. A lot I didn’t know.

  I didn’t know how to get him the fuck out of my head. But I did know how to keep him out of my body.

  I tried to hold on to the person I once was but that person died.

  “I’m ready to go. Where are we staying? I’m feeling tired,” I said standing. I threw Brandon a look that promised him what someone else would get and never again would he get close to me.

  Andrew walked around to my chair, took my hand and led me from the table. When I turned, Brandon and Angela were holding hands. If Brandon wanted to make me jealous, he succeeded.

  He succeeded in making my life a living hell. How could I be so stupid as to crave only one man? I held on to Andrew’s arm and gave him a fake smile. I bet Brandon was staring.

  Andrew checked into the hotel and as he promised, we had separate rooms. The rooms were exquisite as I expected. After looking at the apartment he gave me for a year or two, I was not surprised.

  ***

  The next morning a maid woke me to bring in breakfast and fast behind her stood Andrew. “Wake up sleep head we only have one night here and I promised you that we would go sightseeing.” He sat at the foot of my bed peering at me. I hadn’t noticed his eyes were deep dark gray. I had to shake my head to clear it. Was I falling in love with him and his charms? I like him sure but to fall in love with him would take a lot of effort that I didn’t have or couldn’t give at this time.

  I pushed him away and said, “Let me eat.”

  He rose from my bed still smiling, and placed a kiss on my forehead. I felt good. Better than I felt before. I saw Andrew strode out of the room. He had a nice walk. I like it. I was beginning to like everything about him.

  ***

  We spent the day at the Louvre and when we became hungry, we stopped at a small sidewalk café that was off the beaten path. After Andrew ordered our lunch in French, which impressed me because I could understand very few French phrases but could say hello and how are you, however, I made an A in French. When I become Mrs. Blake and move to France, I can practice it, I thought.

  He reached for my hand and took it in his. Then he kissed it and looked up and caught sight of someone walking. At the same time, the handsome young man about twenty-one saw him and stopped at our table. “Andrew.” Andrew stood and kissed his cheek. I heard that the French were casual in their showing of affection and their sex lives.

  “This is my friend, and maybe my fiancé Tyler. Tyler this is François. ”

  “Delighted to meet you,” I said, and he kissed my hand in a light formal way. His kiss barely brushed my hand.

  “How long are you going to be here?” François asked staring at Andrew and switching his glances to me. It didn’t appear as if he was interested in me. Maybe he questioned how Andrew could find such an unsophisticated woman to occupy his time. I asked that same question.

  “I have to go now,” he said.

  “Please stop by my apartment when you’re in New York. You know you’re always welcome,” Andrew said with his engaging smile.

  And once again they embraced. As he walked away he turned and looked in our direction as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing.

  “François is a friend of my family. I’ve known him since he was a teen.” I gazed at the

  waiter uncork the wine, and Andrew inspect the cork. “Let’s not talk about him. When am I going to meet your family?” he asked.

  My eyes grew and I sucked in a small breath. “Not just yet. It’s too soon to spring on my father that I have a friend who is rich. My mother died, but she wasn’t so particular. She wanted the best for me and she wanted me to be happy. Rich or poor man.”

  “Doesn’t your father like the rich?”

  My answer was quick and short. “No. Not at all.”

  “Then would you agree to meet my family? They don’t care who I bring home.” I glanced at him, “I mean they are delighted at any choice I make for a companion.”

  I guess I was only a companion because I couldn’t get the notion of not ever being with Brandon out of my mind.

  When we returned to the hotel, I received a call from of all people, Brandon.

  “Tyler, I have to see you to explain.”

  “There is nothing you have to say to me and how did you know I was at this hotel?”

  “It’s Andrew’s special hotel when he’s in Paris. I don’t think it’s a good idea to continue to see Andrew.”

  “How dare you suggest that you can affect my life by telling me who I can date? You’re a married man.”

  “I’m sorry Tyler. I have interfered in your life enough. You’re right on all counts. Until

  I’m rid of Angela, there’s nothing I can say to you. I won’t bother you anymore.”

  Oh Brandon, don’t give up so easy, I thought, sinking into a chair. Don’t you know how much I love you? But I couldn’t say a word to him. I didn’t want to start that merry-go-round again. I was having a great time in Paris with Andrew. After all it is the city of love and I might just fall in love with Andrew if I allowed myself.

  “You’re right. I think it’s a good idea that we don’t see each other again.” And I dropped the phone with my heart breaking with the sound of the phone going silent.

  It was my last day in Paris and I expected to hear from Andrew but I hadn’t heard a word since he left my hotel room.

  I looked at the time and then when the lights from the Effie Tower made its appearance I walked to the terrace and there was the most splendid sight and I was alone. What had happened to Andrew? I wish I had talked to Brandon a little longer.

  “Alone in Paris,” I murmured. Who do I know? Chris. I bet she’s here. I called the number she gave me and she answer.

  “Chris?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Tyler.”

  “Tyler. Where the fuck are you?”

  “I’ve been trying to locate you. You left the apartment without telling me where you were going.”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I bet the fuck it is. The cat almost died but that’s another story.”

  “I’m in Paris,” I said to Chris.

  “Well aren’t you a jet setter.”

  “Be real, Chris. I’m over here with Andrew.”

  “Andrew Blake?”

  “Yes.”

  “No shit. What are you doing with him? Wait don’t answer that I have to do something. Call me when you get back.” And she hung up. Everyone was busy, and I’m the only one counting the flowers in the wall paper.

  I managed to fall asleep and when I woke, I received a call from Andrew’s pilot notifying me that the plane was taking off in an hour,
and the limo is waiting at the hotel.

  Rushing to take a shower I gathered my few things which Andrew bought at the boutique in the hotel. I threw the items into a bag and rushed down to the lobby to find a limo waiting. The driver opened the door, and I slid in and a smiling Andrew was there sitting next to me holding a glass of wine. “You have to try this wine. I bought a case.”

  “I’m angry with you Andrew.”

  “Please don’t be. I had this last minute meeting which I couldn’t get out of. I never know the time. I’ve never been on time for anything. I’ll probably be late for my wedding.” What was he saying to me? My eyes met his.

  He reached for my hand and kissed it. My legs weakened at the sight of his handsome body clothed in a camel colored suit. He was hot sitting with his shirt opened and I fell for his sweet words and soft smile. Desire spread over me and I forgot that he left me alone in Paris. My desire covered me like a winter coat warming me, protecting me, making me forget the brutal cold.

  We arrived at the airfield and prepared for the twelve hour flight back to New York. I slept the entire night after Andrew gave me something to ease the jet lag that may come the next day.

  Chapter 31

  I woke in the bed in the wonderful apartment that Andrew graciously gave me. I turned away from the floor to ceiling windows, after enjoying waking to the clouds. Sitting in the chair across from the bed was Andrew. He wore a smile that lightened my day. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I never left.”

  “You slept here?”

  “I had to know you were okay. And…” he hesitated, put his rolled fist to his mouth, “I want to ask you…to marry me.”

  “What?”

  “We just met. I’m confused.”

  “I know what I want. I want you.”

  “But I don’t know,” I said. “I know nothing about you. I don’t know if I love you.”

  “I promise you once you get to know me, you’ll love me. I’ll spend my life making you happy. And I’ll be traveling a lot, and you will miss me, and when I come back you will want me more.”

  He continued, “Give me a chance to show you the world. You deserve more than waiting for Brandon to divorce Angela.”

  Andrew convinced me that I could love him and not Brandon. He was a good salesman but did that make for a good husband and lover? I questioned my judgment because I was considering his proposal.

  Marrying him could make my life easier, I thought. I wouldn’t have to think about Brandon as much. I would concentrate on Andrew. There were many benefits to marrying him.

  I had forgotten a very important person when making a decision like this—my father.

  “I don’t know. I have to see my father first. This is a big decision. I don’t want to get engaged to you for the wrong reasons.”

  “Let me go to him and ask for your hand.”

  “I don’t know. He doesn’t know that I am seeing anyone yet. I’ll have to break the news,” I said to Andrew.

  “Then I want you to wear this ring.” You can call it an engagement ring or you can say it was from an admirer.”

  “He reached into his pocket and went to his knees and said, “Will you marry me?”

  I stared at him. I wasn’t happy and I wasn’t sad. I felt numb. “Just a formality,” he said.

  He took my hand and placed the solitaire diamond ring on my finger. I had never had anyone ask for my hand in marriage and I must have been overwhelmed and didn’t think it over. It was a step into the Grand Canyon and I was approaching it with a blindfold on.

  “I don’t know what to say or do.”

  “Say you will consider my proposal,” he said to me.

  “I will consider your proposal.” Andrew stood and leaned over to kiss me and walked out of the bedroom. I heard the door closing behind him. I had forgotten about my job. I placed the call to the secretary and stated that I would be in Thursday.

  “Mr. Blake informed us that you were resigning and was under his employment.” I was shocked that I wasn’t consulted about that arrangement. Why would Andrew make plans without telling or me without telling me? I wasn’t going to stand for this. I made up my mind that I would pay a visit to his apartment and give his handsome ass a piece of my mind. But first I needed to talk to my father.

  I called my father and said that I would be in New Jersey in the afternoon. Then I called a car rental company and asked for a rental car. The company sent it over. After dressing and feeling great, I went to the lobby to discover the car was waiting. I got into the rental and drove to New Jersey.

  My father was sitting on his porch in a swing. The house had been built in the forties for veterans returning home from the war. The homes set next to each other with barely any room for privacy. On a Saturday night I could hear Mr. Clancy screaming at his children to get in before the sun went down. Or to the left of us, Mr. Brown terrorizing his family because of his drunken tirades.

  Walking up the brick steps to the porch were memories of seeing my mother and father sitting in the swing some soldier had built to bring peace to his mind. My father was now the recipient and I could see that he enjoyed the pleasure it brought him.

  I sat on the side of him in silence. He hugged me and I hugged him back.

  “You’ve been gone so long,” he said with a sad voice.

  “It’s only been a month, Dad,” I said holding his hand.

  “A month is like a lifetime to an old man.”

  “You’re not old. You still have a gorgeous head of hair. And I’ve seen how the women in the neighborhood smile at you and want to feed you.”

  “Well, I never have to worry about food, but enough of me. That young man with the fancy limo came by.”

  “Brandon?” I said surprised and happy.

  “No. I’m pretty sure his name was Andrew something.”

  I had asked Andrew not to see my father until I broke the news. My father’s face wore a frown at the sound of his name. “Andrew? Are you sure?”

  “Right as rain,” he said describing him. It was Andrew.

  “I have a bad feeling about him.”

  “Oh daddy, you’ve a bad feeling about every boy I’ve liked. High school is different. I’m a woman now,” I said.

  “It’s something about him.”

  “Is it because he’s rich?” I said.

  “That too, but I know men, and he’s not all he pretends.” I understood why my father was protective of me, but I had to find out things for myself. It was what you called living and learning.

  There were so many things that I wish I could do over—sleeping with and loving Brandon was one. Nevertheless, that week with him was the best time of my life. And I will never forget my one true love.

  ***

  After cooking my father’s favorite meal, spaghetti, meat balls, and sausage, I headed back to New York. I needed to talk to Andrew. I had hooked my phone to the Bluetooth connection in the car and I could talk at will without risking an accident. A call came in as I was nearing the tunnel. But the traffic was extreme and it took longer than I expected.

  It was Brandon, “Tyler.”

  “Yes Brandon what do you want.” I didn’t want to be so cold but he deserved it.

  “I know I’ve said this before but it’s official. Angela signed the papers and in thirty days I will be a free man.”

  “To do what?”

  “To marry you if you will have me?” He said.

  “Andrew asked me to marry him.”

  “You can’t do that. Please see me first. I just arrived home. Come see…” I pulled into the tunnel and the phone went silent. I didn’t know if I was excited or angry. Why do things come to you when you don’t care anymore or you don’t need it anymore?

  Turning off my phone, I drove straight to my apartment and parked in the garage. I entered the lobby and headed for the door. Andrew’s apartment lay across from mine. How convenient. After parking the car, I walked through my lobby and out the door and hea
ded across the street. It felt good walking again.

  I entered Blake’s apartment building and the concierge stopped me. “I’m Mr. Blake’s fiancé.”

  “Oh go right in Ms. Burns it’s the penthouse. Mr. Blake is in,” the doorman smiled.

  “I want to surprise him. Don’t tell him I coming,” I said returning the smile.

  “In that case, take the elevators to the left, it will open into the apartment,” he said smiling back.

  I wanted to confront him for not considering my feelings and not listening to me. How were we to have a relationship if he didn’t respect my wishes?

  The door opened and I walked into another palace in the sky. An ultra-modern apartment of chrome, glass, and mirrors. Modern paintings decorated the walls. To my surprise, a large painting by Andy Warhol of a young teenager, the teen was Andrew, and Warhol painted his picture. I walked closer to see the signature. It was him.

  The foyer stretched long and wide with Italian marble on the floor. In the center a glass table and a Chinese vase filled with beautiful real flowers. A silk Chinese runner led to the gleaming polished hardwood floors. When I reached the living area there was a contrast of old world paintings and furniture. It looked like a combination of library and entertainment room. A place to read and discuss, and party. The paintings were held in gilded wood frames, with each painting adorned in its own spotlight.

  Velvet hunter green drapes were anchored with velvet sofas facing each other with a giant table setting in the middle. The room contained many antique chairs and Persian rugs thrown in every space on the floor.

  The apartment was a showcase, meant to be seen and not touched, where everything in it was wrong and right, a paradox.

  I passed my hand on the walls to feel the brown and gold wall paper that set the backdrop for all the beige and gold chairs and silk drapes that hung over the windows. The room dark so I hit a button and the curtains opened and let in a flood of light.

  I called out Andrew’s name and walked in the direction of the bed rooms and the door opened. Before I could enter, a handsome statuesque man stood naked in front of me. He wasn’t embarrassed, he stood as if being naked was as natural as the sunshine. And then I recognized him.

 

‹ Prev