Aphrodite's Stand

by Sandra Scott

  “Yes.” George spoke quietly, his voice weary. “A house divided.”

  And a house divided usually falls, Stefano’s mind gloomily retorted.

  31

  “Good morning, Dr. Andra’s sister.”

  Racine sighed as Sly entered the villa’s breakfast area through the back entrance. “Why are you always here?” she asked, lowering her fork. She placed it on the table exactly one inch to the right of her half-eaten plate of scrambled eggs. “Don’t you have a home to go to?”

  “Maybe I can ask the same when it comes to you, Dr. Andra’s sister.”

  Although she preferred her Christian name not trip off the silly woman’s tongue, Racine also didn’t want to be continuously referred to as Dr. Andra’s sister, or, in other words, the Inconsequential Sister with No Name.

  She figured Sly knew it too—that was why she continued to do it.

  “The name’s Racine, as you well know.” She took the white porcelain creamer from the table’s center and poured thick cream into her black coffee. After dumping heaps of sugar in, she stirred the concoction thoroughly while keeping an eye on her unwanted guest. “I’m here visiting, which means I know I’m a visitor, can say I’m a visitor, and will be leaving at some point as a visitor.” Racine tasted her coffee and blanched. She added more cream and sugar. “Can you say—and do—the same?”

  Sly laughed heartily. “You are so funny! I believe I like you.”

  “No, thank you.” Looking away, Racine tasted her coffee again and decided it was a lost cause. She took a long swallow anyway. “What’d you want?” In her peripheral vision, she watched Sly approach the table and sit in a chair to her right. Being deliberate, she made a conscious effort not to put more distance between them by shifting her chair in the opposite direction, especially since she knew it would throw off the balance of the other chairs.

  “Oh,” Sly said, her expression and voice wistful, “I came by for girl talk.”

  After retrieving a clean coffee cup from the centered rack, with a dainty hand Sly helped herself to coffee. Racine shook her head, marveling that the idiot reached for neither cream nor sugar but elected to drink the thick concoction black.

  The girl was not to be trusted.

  “Okay, so talk.”

  Elbows on the table, Sly used both hands to bring the cup to her lips. She sipped the strong brew slowly and prettily, as if she reveled in Racine’s attention. Then, lowering her drink halfway, she eyed Racine and giggled. “You know, you and I are not so different.” When Racine opened her mouth to dispute that statement, Sly presented a raised palm. “No, we are not. Listen, we are around the same age, we are two attractive women, and we both do not like the situation between J. J. and Dr. Andra.”

  Racine’s eyes narrowed as Sly casually took another sip. “What are you talking about, Ms. Thang?”

  Sly set her cup on its saucer with a firm clink. “Also, we are both highly intelligent women.” She smiled at Racine. “I believe you can understand my meaning.”

  Attempting to gather her thoughts to return a witty yet biting reply comprised of feigned ignorance, Racine lifted the morning paper in order to buy some time, only to be stupefied once she realized the blasted thing was written in Greek. She rattled the paper, pretending to read it anyway. “I don’t know; you evidently assume you’re more intelligent than the next person,” she said, turning a page. “I guess you’re gonna have to spell it out for a dummy like me.”

  Sly leaned forward. She glanced at the newspaper and then studied Racine’s face. “Would you like me to read to you?”

  Racine slammed the paper onto the table, glaring with satisfaction when Sly jumped. “I asked you earlier—what do you want?”

  Her motions deliberate, Sly looked over each shoulder, first at the exterior and then at the interior entrance to the breakfast room. Satisfied that both were empty, her emerald eyes returned to gaze into Racine’s flashing ones. “Where is Dr. Andra and J. J.?”

  Racine smirked. “Andra and Jayson?” She picked up the newspaper again, casually licked her finger, and turned a page. “They’re probably upstairs humping their brains out.” At Sly’s confused expression, she smirked. “I thought you were so intelligent. It means making love, okay?”

  At the other’s dubious countenance, Racine shook her head. “What do you care where they’re at? Why’re you so worried about Jayson anyway?”

  Sly sat back to fiddle with her cup handle. “I do not want them to unexpectedly interrupt us while we have our little girl talk.”

  Giddy with the knowledge that she knew information Sly didn’t, Racine bombed her inquisitive visitor with the Theonopilus family’s current affairs. “Mr. George and the boys are, right this moment, taking a meeting with someone in the sitting room. Andra and my mother are probably upstairs in their rooms.”

  “Okay, good.”

  Trying not to show she was intrigued, Racine ceased pretending to read the newspaper and, with extreme care, took her time to fold it neatly—fold and then smooth, fold and then smooth. Gently, she placed it next to her plate. Putting on her poker face, she stared at her unwelcome guest. “This will be my third and last time asking. What do you want?”

  “First, you must promise me”—Sly paused to once more look behind her—“what we speak now is between you and I.”

  Biting her tongue, Racine nodded succinctly.

  “I believe you are not fond of the marriage between your sister and J. J.”

  “You’re repeating yourself,” she said. She rolled her eyes only to narrow them. “Where do you get off thinking you know anything about me?” Racine went on to mock Sly’s accent. “Besides, I like J. J.”

  Sly dipped her eyes. “I know. I like Dr. Andra as well, but—”

  “But what? Spit it out!”

  “Well, I do not believe they are to make a good match. I sense you believe the same.”

  Looking away, Racine straightened her knife, making sure there was equal distance between it, her fork, and the plate. “So what? It’s their life.” Her eyes lifted to glare at Sly. “It should be their call—so none-ya.”

  Sly’s brow crinkled. “None-ya?”

  “None of your business.”

  Sly smiled, nodding slowly. “Yes, I agree. Maybe it should be none-ya.” She pouted prettily. “But they may not understand how much their marriage is affecting both sides of the family.”

  “Which you’re a part of—the other side of the family, I mean?”

  Sly had the nerve to blush. “Well, yes. I and Paulo were little children with Stefano and J. J.”

  Rolling her eyes at Sly, Racine shook her head with disdain. “I believe you’re jealous of my sister.”

  “I do not know what you say,” Sly said, quickly looking away. “I am not.”

  “Yes, you are.” Racine scanned the other’s defensive posture above the table and nodded once. “I can read you like a cheap novel.”

  At the answering silence, Racine shifted forward, allowing her breasts to rest upon the tabletop, knowing her globe-like twins were displayed to their full advantage. With satisfaction, she reveled in the envious glance Sly gave them.

  “Where are your parents?” Racine asked, drawing Sly’s attention back to her face. “Why don’t they come over here as often as you do?”

  Sly’s jaw swiftly drooped with sadness. “I and Paulo are orphans since we were children. We stay with our grandmother, who is quite old and cannot get around like us.”

  Remembering her deceased father, Racine sat back. “Sorry,” she mumbled. She grew silent, only to flash a knowing smile. “Wait! So that’s it. You’ve always had designs on Jayson and this grand villa—and Andra beat you to it by ball-and-chaining him first, right?”

  “What?” Sly giggled, shaking her head. “No. Being very serious, J. J. is like a brother to me. I have no designs on him,
as you say.”

  Racine’s forehead crinkled. “Okay, so what’s this about? Why do you want them to split?” At Sly’s reticent silence, Racine slowly rose. “If you can’t spill everything, you can just count me out.”

  Sly reached out a hand to stop Racine. “Okay, okay!” Sneaking another peak about her, she let out an exhausted sigh. “It is not me; I could care less who J. J. marries. Dr. Andra’s as good as anyone he could have picked.”

  “But?”

  Sly’s face was miserable. “But Stefano doesn’t believe so.” At Racine’s stunned silence, Sly rushed on. “He wants J. J. to stay and help him run the business, but he wants Dr. Andra to go. Stefano asked for my help. I feel I have no choice but to do what I am told.”

  Racine sat for a moment to study the girl. “You love Stefano.” Initially, she had thought to form the thought into a question, but she knew she didn’t have to. It was written all over the other’s face.

  Pondering Sly’s silent misery, which appeared far above the regular unrequited puppy-dog crush, Racine recalled the quick glance Stefano had thrown Andra’s way at the dinner table. Abruptly, another unbelievable revelation struck her.

  “But Stefano’s in love with Andra. It’s the reason you’re all gung ho to help him out, right? This has nothing to do with Jayson at all; it’s about getting Andra outta Stefano’s orbit—to clear it for you.”

  Her table companion’s continued silence answered for her.

  Anger rising, Racine shook her head. “So all this time, big man on campus was acting as if he couldn’t stand my sister, running around here acting as if he’s better than my entire family, only to be in love with Andra? Why, he’s nothing but a hypocritical, racist son of a—”

  As Racine’s voice grew louder, Sly shushed her with a desperate whisper. “Please! It is nothing like that. He is nothing like that!” At Racine’s outraged look, Sly attempted a placating smile. “Stefano is kind and thoughtful and extremely smart.”

  “Stop!” Abruptly, Racine presented her palm. “I’ll help you.”

  “You will?” Sly asked, appearing breathless at the rapid turnabout in Racine’s stance. “Why?”

  Racine rose to loom over Sly. “Why? This was my fear all along. It’s why I tried to make my sister see reason in not marrying Jayson. I want to get Andra away from you and this whole dang-blasted family! This situation has way too much drama and intrigue. So stupid!”

  After shoving her chair in at just the right angle, Racine headed for the door, leaving Sly to sit at the table alone. “We’ll be in touch, Ms. Thang.”

  Sly stood to watch her retreat. “All right, but where are you going?”

  “If you must know, I’m going to my room.” Racine stopped to let out an impatient snort. “Right now, I’ve had my fill of you. You stink to high heaven of drama. Drama, drama, drama!”

  Racine shoved past the swinging door. Crossing the circular foyer to head for the main staircase, she threw a sour glance at the closed doors to the formal sitting room, where, on the other side, she could only assume the business meeting was still going strong.

  For the hundredth time, she shook her head at the mind-boggling intrigue Andra and Jayson’s marriage continued to stir up.

  Can’t wait to drag Andra back home where she belongs and leave all this stupid drama behind!

  Still, as Racine took the stairs two at a time to the second level, she couldn’t silence the accusing voice inside her head that screamed maybe she was the biggest drama queen of them all.

  32

  Leaving the Theonopilus men behind closed doors, Andra let out a sigh, her spirit lifting the moment she stepped into the large foyer.

  As much as she loved Jayson and adored his father, George, she still couldn’t get a handle on what to make of Stefano. She understood a subtle change had occurred within him concerning her, something imperceptible to the naked eye. When it came to respecting one another, they had both risen to a higher emotional level. She was unable to pinpoint how or when it had happened, but it had.

  Now she needed to figure out what to do with it.

  However, the unexpected shift in their relationship brought both relief and confusion. She was relieved that they’d established a shaky truce; she still remained confused concerning how he’d stare at her with a hunger-driven intensity only to have those same eyes ration out the same measure of disgust.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she mumbled. She made her way toward the kitchen and the back door, which led out to the lush, rolling green acres beyond. “Andra, why don’t you and your nonsense just take a hike?”

  Andra broke out in a smile over her unintentional pun. Humming a carefree tune, she reached the kitchen’s swinging door only to abruptly stop. She remained still at muffled voices drifting to her from the other side. Wanting to hear better, she gently palmed the door and pushed it open a crack.

  They were female voices.

  Turning her head, she placed an ear to the opening. At once, she identified the voices and smiled ruefully. Her smile morphed into the urge to chuckle out loud as the kitchen conversation progressed, and she was forced to slap a hand over her mouth. Her body shook with silent mirth at Sly’s salutation of “Good morning, Dr. Andra’s sister” and Racine’s biting response of “Why are you always here?”

  It was a question Andra constantly asked herself concerning the girl.

  An unexpected weariness overtook her. She didn’t care why Sly was at the villa again; she just knew she didn’t want to endure the pesky interloper while in her present good mood.

  Stepping back, she eased the swinging panel in place. On silent feet, she retraced her steps, this time heading for the main entrance. Her eyes once again touched upon the closed doors to the sitting room, and her feet sped up to reach the front door in record time.

  Andra quickly stepped out into the glorious sunlight to release a grateful sigh.

  She didn’t feel too guilty about leaving Racine with Sly; she knew her sibling could hold her own with the likes of that female Athenian. Truthfully, she should feel sorry for Sly. Her baby sister was like the runaway train in Unstoppable. It was best to simply get off the tracks and let someone strong, such as Denzel, take care of stopping it.

  Andra paused to breathe in unrestricted fresh air while trying to decide which direction to head. During the process of making up her mind, she suddenly glanced upward. A bird soared at a safe distance as its cheerful chirping called out a hello. Using her hand to shield her eyes from the brilliance of the sun, she strolled as she watched it circle above, her lips smiling in a return hello.

  She marveled at the bird’s effortless flight and kept her eyes on it until it reached the end of the villa. The bird flapped once, tucked one wing, and sharply turned the corner to disappear from sight.

  Intrigued, Andra decided to follow.

  By the time she rounded the villa, the soaring bird had vanished, as she’d known it would. Still, she made her way along the lengthy wall. Thanks to many years of nature’s handicraft, the stone was exquisitely decorated with bright green climbing ivy arrayed with tiny colorful flowers.

  Her thoughts wistful at not having explored its outer splendor sooner, she walked along the cobblestone path, savoring her surroundings. Once she reached the back of the villa, which led to acres and acres of land, she stared in awe. She knew those vast grounds eventually spilled into an even greater portion of land that supported the Theonopilus family’s olive groves.

  Her eyes, ears, and nose took in the beauty of God’s creation—and for the first time, Andra understood Jayson’s reluctance to abandon the splendor of his childhood home for a second time.

  She shook her head in wonder. “Why would you leave this place, Jay? Will seeing all this again stop you from returning to Florida?”

  Stefano, his image darkly handsome, entered her head.

  Nope
, not today. Her feet picked up speed, attempting to outrun her imagination. After a minute, she forced herself not to break into an actual sprint and slowed down to take in the surrounding beauty.

  After some time, she stopped to brush aside wind-blown hair; glancing back at the enormous villa, she wanted to gauge just how far she’d come. Its height and width now appeared much smaller; mentally, she calculated her distance to be more than a mile or so away.

  Time paced itself with her progress as she hiked over level grass until the ground abruptly became a hilly incline. Halfway up, she stooped to pick a white-and-blue lily. Shoving the stem of the flower behind her ear, Andra closed her eyes, allowing the darkness to mentally erase her simple blouse, blue jeans, and tennis shoes, replacing them with a one-shoulder gossamer gown.

  In her mind, the gown billowed about her body, the sensation unlocking an inner wildness. Capriciously, she spread her arms wide, pretending to be kin to her friend the soaring bird. Like it, her spirit embraced the wind as sunlit breezes lifted her body higher and higher toward the heavens.

  She imagined she possessed the same freedom the ancient goddesses of old embodied within their godlike state.

  Like Aphrodite?

  The unexpected question jolted her from her daydream, shifting her thoughts immediately to Stefano. Standing in the open field, she felt exposed, as if he watched her. She again looked toward the villa and the tiny window that she knew was part of Stefano’s office. Feeling naked, she wrapped her arms about her body to reassure it; even if he stared out it, she was too far away for him to truly see her.

  Embarrassed at the volatile direction her wayward mind had taken her, she cleared it of all goddesses—and the man who still believed in them.

  She trekked on.

  Ten minutes later, Andra stopped to shield her eyes. In the distance to her right, she viewed tiny workers moving among the olive groves, their voices projecting diminutive foreign words that conveyed no meaning for her. As she watched them, the carefree spirit that had deserted her earlier unexpectedly returned, and like an old friend, she gladly welcomed it back.