He imagined a pregnant Sophia, happy like Hannah was, and himself placing his hand on her stomach to feel their child move.
He thought about her nursing their son. Or their daughter.
His throat closed and he decided that he was going to give her a baby, and soon. Not an adopted one, but she would have a real pregnancy and birth their child as she did with Gabriela. It didn’t matter anymore to him that the semen would not come from his body. Her happiness was the most important thing in his life.
It was an impressive shift in his priorities. He was married to a woman who had given him everything he wanted in life and now he would give it back to her. Her love for him had changed him in so many ways, he hadn’t been aware of how drastic the changes had been until he saw Sophia looking at his friends with a hint of envy. He had only seen it in her eyes before when Carolina ran to Drake’s arms.
She had entered his veins bit by bit, an antidote made of patience and lots of love. She had refilled him and he asked himself again, what had he done for her. He wanted to create a family for Gabriela, and he wanted to participate in the life of a child of their own from the very beginning.
He stepped closer to her and his arm snaked around her waist, his hand spanning her flat stomach.
She looked up at him, startled. She was not expecting such a demonstration of love. Her hand covered his.
I love you. With a kiss on her forehead, he bent his head and whispered in her ear, “We’ll have ours.”
The smile she gave him was so brilliant that it chased away the hate that had tainted him a few moments ago.
Sophia couldn’t believe her eyes as the line of guests moved on and she caught a glimpse of Calista and George. They were purposely in the line Ethan was greeting. And what made the situation worse was that she couldn’t warn him without making a scene. How could I have missed their names on the guest list?
Think, Sophia. Think. She looked around for a second, but another of the sponsors stepped in front of her. She thanked him for his support and indicated his table.
“Everything okay?” Alistair asked as he felt her fidget, which was not common for Sophia.
She shook her head slightly and looked up. “I need to step beside Ethan for a second.”
Ashford again.
She saw his lips thinning and for a split second considered not helping Ethan. But that was not a possibility for her.
This must be serious, Alistair Connor, don’t chain her with your unreasonable jealousy. “Go,” he whispered, smiling at another couple that approached. “I can handle this alone for a few minutes.”
Four more couples. She didn’t lose time. As soon as she was next to Ethan, she said in a rush, “Scott needs to talk with you. Now.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Is there a problem?”
Three more couples. She gazed discretely down his line. And whispered, “It seems so.”
“I can’t possibly leave here now. Here comes one of Ashford Steel’s best buyers,” he answered in the same way.
Two more couples. She didn’t know how, but in the middle of a smile she managed to hiss, “Go!” Just one couple.
But Ethan was much taller than her. His hands fisted by his sides. “I’ve seen the problem.”
“Difficult man!” She expelled a long, audible breath. What are you going to do now, Sophia?
When Ethan saw Sophia move in front of him, as Calista and George closed in, he was so astonished that he didn’t even budge.
Sophia stretched out her hands, taking Calista’s. “I’m so happy you could come this evening.”
And she looked at George. “The support for the sexually abused is of the utmost importance for us all, isn’t it?”
Calista and George just stared, open-mouthed.
Letting go of Calista’s hands, she stepped back, the hem of her dress playing around Ethan’s ankles. “Ethan and I, we trust that you’ll always support our cause and behave accordingly.”
At her comments, Ethan threw his head back and the laugh that came from within his soul was so genuine that it attracted attention. How I love you, Sophia.
That’s all he needs: support. Sophia’s smile relaxed and opened in a grin. “What is your table number? I’ll personally direct you there and see that you are seated with people with the same taste as yours.”
An exhilarating mirth took control of him, and Ethan shook the hand of the next guest with one of the biggest grins of his life.
7:49 p.m.
“Fuck,” Tavish whispered, “fucking unbelievable.”
Lachlann gazed up to rebuke his son’s language, but there was such an enraged look on Tavish’s face that it surprised him. He followed the direction of his son’s stare and immediately jumped into action, pulling Tavish in tow.
“Smile,” he ordered Tavish as they made their way to Sophia. “You take her away while I help Alistair Connor.”
Tavish almost harrumphed. “Why doesn’t anybody trust me to handle her?”
“Because you’d kill her,” his father answered in a low voice. “I’ve never seen you hate someone so much.”
“And you don’t?” Tavish asked surprised, as they walked as quickly as they could without calling attention.
Lachlann didn’t have to think to answer, “Is it worth it?”
“Your PR needs to talk with you,” Tavish’s hand clutched Sophia’s elbow firmly as soon as the couple she was greeting moved on to their assigned table.
Without knowing, he had used the same excuse she had to get Ethan away from Calista and George.
Sophia frowned. “Who is in my greeting line?”
Tavish gaped at her for a moment. “You’re too fucking smart for your own good.”
Alistair’s spine went ramrod straight when he saw Devon signaling to Steven and both made their way calmly in their direction.
On the arm of the same peer of the House of Lords who had taken her to the opening of The Blue Dot Gallery, Emma batted her lashes and opened an innocent smile a few feet away from them.
Oh, no. Dizziness blanketed Sophia and she swayed on her feet.
“Shit!” Alistair said under his breath when he saw how pale she had become. With his arm wrapped around her waist, he pushed her onto Tavish’s chest. “Take her away.”
In a heartbeat, Steven was beside Tavish and Sophia.
“Don’t you pass out on me, Sophia.” Tavish was praying she wouldn’t faint in the middle of the ballroom. “Although I’d love the opportunity to carry you in my arms, I’d prefer to do it in private.”
The joke hadn’t had the effect he expected because she leaned more heavily on his arm.
“Breathe. Just two steps now.”
He entered the Gold Room. Steven stayed outside and pulled the door closed.
Tavish sat her down on the sofa. With a hand on her nape he pushed her head down. “Push back, Sophia.”
After a long moment, she said in a wan voice, “I’m better.”
“How is she?” asked Alistair, bursting through the door.
“I am—”
“Hush,” said Tavish, helping her sit. “Lie down for a few minutes.”
Stubbornly, she remained seated with her head back. “Who’s greeting our line?”
“Ashley. Most of the guests have arrived.” He sat beside her other side and picked up her hand. “I’ve changed places and I’m sitting by you. Steven and Devon are already on stand-by.”
“As are all the generals, lieutenants-colonels, and soldiers of your army,” Tavish finished.
“You have been promoted to general, Lord Arrogance,” she whispered to him, smiling.
Tavish smiled back. He knew he deserved the nickname.
That’s enough, Sophia. Sophia sighed. Don’t be so squeamish. “All right. Let’s go, my Lords Generals.”
As she re-entered the ballroom, she wondered what Emma was planning. She knew it didn’t matter who was on stand-by, Emma was going to do something.
9:21 p.m.
> Dinner had been scrumptious. A band quietly played between the two Terra Cotta warriors statues. The talk and laughter was flowing smoothly as wine, and champagne filled the glasses uninterruptedly.
Calista and George were having great fun. They were listed as the companions of a sponsor and a notorious English painter that had bought a table only for him, which hid their names from the main list. They hadn’t approached Ethan, who eventually relaxed.
As for Emma, she never turned in Alistair’s direction. Or Sophia’s.
Just before dessert was served, the band stopped for a few minutes and Scott appeared at the microphone, asking for everyone’s attention, and introduced Ethan, Sophia, and Alistair, who stood up and walked to the stage.
All right, Sophia MacCraig. Improvisation time. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. As we all know, we’re gathered here to support abused children, women, and if possible, their families, in India and China through a joint venture of Ashford Steel and Sophia Leibowitz Foundation. At both the Foundation and Ashford Steel online sites, under the name Charity for India and China there’s extensive information. I’ll keep this short so we can all start on our desserts, my favorite part of any meal. First I’d like to ask our sponsors to stand up.”
Chairs moved back as artists and wealthy persons, CEOs and representatives from different companies stood up.
“Thank you so much for your help,” Sophia’s smile lingered over each one of them; Ethan and Alistair started to applaud and the whole room followed.
“I’d also like to thank the employees and volunteers of Sophia Leibowitz Foundation, Leibowitz Oil, and Ashford Steel who worked on this project. And, especially, all the waiters in this room, who declined to receive payment, a most special thank you. You’ve helped our cause and made it possible for us to have such a wonderful evening tonight. Please, ladies and gentlemen, a round of applause for them.” There was a surprised collective gasp and all the guests rose to applaud.
Sophia made sure the waiters would receive more than their normal wage by putting an envelope for tips on the tables. She knew now the tips would be more than generous. She smiled and waited for the applause to die down to continue, “I know that you are here because you support our cause. However, I’d like to say that it’s not only children and women who are abused. Many times I’ve considered broadening our assistance to protect abused men too.” For example, the two here flanking me. Sophia knew she had to finish up because the cause had turned personal. “But there is so much we can do. Children are individuals, yes; but yet, a child is the best of two persons united in one. They are not only our future; they represent our lost innocence, and our hope for a better society. This magical and unrelenting faith in our capacity to breathe life into the world cannot be lost. So we, as adults, have an obligation to protect the little ones from harm, and to help them find their own path in a better world we should strive to leave for them. I’m happy to see so many conscious of these matters. I’d like to end by quoting a poem, by pastor Martin Niemöller.”
As if planned, Alistair put his hand around Sophia’s waist and Ethan put his on her right shoulder.
“‘First they came for the communists, and I did not speak out because I was not a communist. Then they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out because I was not a socialist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me, but there was no one left to speak for me.’” She made a slight pause to gather her wits and ended huskily, “Let’s always have the courage to speak out for those who are treated unfairly. Thank you.”
11:38 p.m.
Sophia entered the restroom and smiled at her own image. The party had turned out to be a bigger success than she had imagined. Adele’s show had been impressive and most of the guests had been compelled to dance when David Guetta started to play and she could still hear his irresistible music calling her.
She patted some water on her face and reapplied her make-up.
She exited the room and halted. Her passage was blocked by Steven’s and Devon’s backs.
“Is everything okay?” she whispered almost afraid.
When they moved to let her pass, she sighed. Thank God. Then she rebuked herself for her unnecessary paranoid behavior. Stop, Sophia.
Discretely, her bodyguards disappeared before she entered the ballroom. She knew they would be watching and she relaxed.
Sophia stopped at some tables to make small talk with the few guests that were seated, refreshing themselves or taking a break from dancing. Alistair and Ethan were also wandering and her table was almost empty but for a young couple. She smiled at them when she sat down and picked up her glass of wine, noticing a folded piece of paper that had been under the glass.
When she opened it, her smile vanished.
Isn’t she insistent? Her hand shook as she read the message. She didn’t know if she was enraged or unnerved.
Check your email. Nice photos, aren’t they?
You don’t want them leaked to the press.
Come alone. You know where.
A friend
She fingered her glass of wine and drank a huge gulp. No. I don’t want them to leak to the press.
She put the note in her bag and stood up. Immediately, she saw from the corner of her eye that Devon and Steven had moved. She smiled at them and shook her head. Walking calmly and very slowly, she exited the room with her cell phone in her hand.
Chapter 9
11:55 p.m.
Emma saw when Sophia read her message and made her way back to the corridor that led to the restrooms, looking at her iPhone screen. She waited for a few minutes to make sure that her bodyguards and Alistair hadn’t left the room.
As she walked lithely across the room, Emma smiled at a few men she knew, ensuring she was seen.
She had photos of them. She had notes of their secrets. She may need to call on some one day and had to remain fresh on their minds. All of the men who had been to her apartment had been photographed, filmed, and informed afterwards.
In the corridor, she paused at a mirror and admired her own face. She smacked her red lips, murmuring to herself, “There are few who learn.”
She moved to the lady’s room.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
12:01 a.m.
“Hello, Emma,” said Sophia ironically, from the other end of the room when Emma entered and put a heavy chair blocking the door. No luck with the lock? “Aren’t you going to lock the door?”
“Aren’t we witty tonight?” Emma remarked and sensuously leaned on the sink, putting her purse there.
“I can see your purse is very small,” Sophia jutted her chin to it. “No knife? Or maybe it is strapped to your panties?”
“Ah. The real Sophia. How I like hearing you talk like this, bitch.” An evil smile appeared on Emma’s face. “By the way, a tip: don’t wear panties. Men like to finger-fuck real women under the table.”
Right. Enough, Sophia. “I presume you’re going to delete all the files from your computer.”
“After you credit my account with half-a-million.”
“Oh. And I was so worried…only half-a-million pounds? That’s so cheap.” As you are.
“You’re not afraid, are you?”
Sophia tutted and shook her head.
Emma was taken aback with Sophia’s courage. She straightened and unhurriedly raised the hem of her flowing, almost transparent mermaid blood-red dress. Strapped to her inner thigh was a very thin sliding knife. “You shouldn’t mess with me, bitch.”
Sophia shuddered when Emma slid open the blade. Her knees buckled and she managed to steady herself with her hands on the wall. In a trembling voice, she observed, “Such a knife fetish you have.”
Emma stepped in Sophia’s direction.
The doors of the stalls burst open and Tavish and Leonard exited from them, sandwiching Emma.
Emma yelped, startled.
From behind her, Tavish grabbed her wrist in
a breaking vise. “Drop it.”
The knife fell to the floor. Leonard knelt down and took his handkerchief from his pocket.
Emma said daringly, “I told you to come alone.”
“Do I look stupid?” Sophia answered with a trembling smile.
“You’ll regret this. You’ve seen the photos—”
“No.” Sophia smiled, triumphant. “I have not.”
“But I saw—”
Sophia snickered. “You saw me messaging Leonard and Tavish Uilleam. I refuse to be a part of your dirty linen games, Emma. Play them alone.”
Leonard rose with the knife carefully wrapped in his handkerchief and put it in his pocket. His anger was palpable when the sentences came out in staccato, “I’ll give this to Alistair. As a memento. Tavish will take good care of you. I’m sure.”
Leonard walked Sophia out. Neither of them looked back.
Tavish twisted Emma’s arm behind her back and pushed her against the wall.
“You’re hurting me,” she whispered.
“Good.” he pulled her arm up harder. “I’ve been told you like pain.”
There was that huge, rugged man leaning heavily on her against the marble wall. Anyone who came in would think they were making out. She should feel lust, she should be eager, but for the first time in her life, Emma was afraid of what a man could do to her. Her body trembled when he turned her so he could look into her eyes.
He lowered his face so their noses were an inch apart. In a low, startlingly even voice, he told her, “Ye are so ugly inside that your beauty disappears. Every part of you is rotten. Do you have any idea how much I loathe you? I doona fucking care that you abused your sister. But ye killed my niece, ye destroyed my brother’s and my mother’s lives. You’re no’ going tae hurt anyone in my family anymore. If you do, you fucking cunt, I swear tae ye now, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. Because I’ll pay to turn your life into a living fucking hell. Do ye understand?”
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