"Too much?"
"Too perfect."
I glanced from every direction in the three-way-mirror, swinging the dress side to side. It was perfect, and I couldn't wait for Michael to see me in it. Ever since the scrub comment Michael had made, I always changed as soon as I returned from work. I did my best to always remind him of the lovely wife he had. Even though he didn't mention it too often. But what man does? I hated when men could brag about another woman, but feared their tongue falling out when giving their wives a compliment. This dress was sure to get his attention. I wanted him to know I was a woman; his wife. Not just the mother of his child. But I was pretty proud of that also.
Monica was three now. Running and talking up a storm. She was everything I ever dreamed of a daughter. Long, blonde curls. Golden, peachy baby skin from playing in the backyard all summer, and the bluest of eyes you've ever seen. They were defiantly Michael's eyes. She was the poster child of the beautiful baby. Everyone complimented her wherever we went. I loved when Michael would smile at me and then tell them thank you. It made me proud that I gave him such a beautiful daughter.
"Are you sure Monica can stay with you and Ryan this weekend?"
"I'm sure. It will give us some practice." There was a little something in her voice. I looked at her, and her eyes widened.
"No way! Are you?"
"I think so," she said, and there were tears in her eyes. "I'm almost three weeks late but haven't taken a test yet. I want to make sure this time before I tell Ryan."
"Oh, my God. We must get one today." She took a deep breath and nodded.
"Okay. But if I am, you can't let Ryan know that you already know."
I held up two fingers. "Scout’s honor."
We quickly found a pair of shoes to go with the dress, paid and ran to the drugstore. This was now the hot topic, to find out if she was pregnant overrode my need to look sexy at the party. Maybe soon, Michael and I could start planning another baby, and Tammy and I could be pregnant together this time.
We were in and out of the drugstore in record time and back to my house. Michael was feeding Monica lunch when we ran through the door. "Mommy," she squealed.
"You're back early. Did you find a dress?" Michael asked, cutting strawberries up for Monica.
"Yes, I did. I can't wait for you to see it," I said and kissed him on the lips. I loved him more than ever, and I hoped he was ready for another baby. "Hey, Munchkin. Daddy giving you strawberries?" She picked one up and handed me a berry. "Mmm, good," I said, chewing the juicy berry.
"Hi, Tammy," Michael said as she stood in the doorway.
"Hey, Michael. Hi, Monica. You gonna come stay with Auntie Tammy tonight?"
Monica smiled and handed Tammy and strawberry. "Yes," she said in her little, baby voice.
"I can't wait for you to stay. We're gonna have so much fun. You bring some of your toys."
"Whatever you take, leave at your place. Make sure they're ones that make noise," Michael said as he placed the strawberries back into the refrigerator. "Thanks for keeping her tonight."
I wrapped my arms around Michael's waist and smiled into his eyes. He looked at me and questioned my look. "Tammy thinks she might be pregnant." He looked over at Tammy.
"Well, I hope this is what you-" he said.
"Of course, it is, Michael," I said and teasingly slapped his chest.
"Well, congratulations then."
"Come on. I can't take it any longer," I said and grabbed her by the elbow. "Let's get to the bathroom."
Michael picked Monica up to clean her face at the sink. "Now you little girl, wait as long as you can before you start having babies."
"Babies," Monica repeated.
"No babies," he said.
"I want a baby, Daddy."
"No, you don't. Trust me."
"I want a baby," Monica said again.
"No. Babies." His finger tapped her little lips with each word. I hoped his comment was meant for her and her only for when she grew up—and not for us to have another baby.
We shut the bathroom door, and when I turned around, Tammy said, "You're not staying in here with me as I pee."
"All right. I just got excited. But hurry up. It's killing me." I handed her the box and stepped out. As I sat on the bed, I waited for her to come out. The door opened, and I jumped. "Well?"
"We will know if five minutes, Jill. Remember when we did yours?"
"Oh, yay. The longest five minutes of my life."
We both sat on the bed and then couldn't stand it and began pacing around the bedroom. "Has it been five minutes?"
Tammy looked down at her watch. "No, it's been one."
"One!" I began pacing some more. Finally, she got up and started toward the door.
"I can't. I'm too nervous. You look for me."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." It didn't take me a second to run in the bathroom, spot the stick and walk out with it covered in tissue. "Well?"
My smile was beaming. "Positive!"
We dropped Monica off at Tammy and Ryan's, along with her overnight stuff, horsey, and blankie. I asked again since they just found out they were pregnant if they wanted to be alone and celebrate, and that I could ask my mom. They insisted it couldn't have come at a better time and were so excited to have Monica for the weekend.
Ryan whistled as I came through the door. "Why thank you, Ryan," I said.
"I was referring to Michael." I rolled my eyes and handed Monica over to Tammy. But, I had to admit. Michael was absolutely stellar in his dark suit. I was in indeed a lucky woman. I only hoped he felt the same. The only remark he made about the dress was, ‘It's nice.' And that was after I had asked him while helping with his tie. I thought of the suits he brought years ago at the mall the day Tammy and I were shopping and ran into him at the food court. How I was so infatuated with him. The day he told me never to change. Had I changed? Was I what he still wanted?
We kissed our daughter goodbye and left for the car. Since it was December, and the ground was covered with snow, Michael had the Corvette stored away and took the newer family SUV to the party. I was hoping he'd make an exception and that we could take the vet. No such luck. That was his summer car only.
We arrived at the president of Whirlpool's home, and my eyes fell back in my head. The place was a castle. Complete with a mote and bridge. We pulled up the circle drive where a valet waited to park our car around back. Michael handed over the keys and lifted his elbow for me to take. "This place is amazing," I said as I smiled at my handsome husband. He winked and smiled backed.
Walking through the grand entry, jazzy Christmas music filled the background and my eyes followed the twenty-foot Christmas tree that stood next to a winding staircase. Everyone was dressed for the occasion, and it was easy to see now why Michael wanted me to buy a nice dress. I hoped it was enough.
"Welcome," an attractive lady in her fifties greeted us as we walked through the parlor.
"Hello." I said.
Michael raised his hand to shake hers, but instead, she kissed his cheek. "Nice to meet you. I'm Michael Danforth, and this is my wife, Jill." I loved to hear him call me his wife.
"Yes, I know. I make sure to know the guest list. Please, enjoy yourself to some cocktails."
"Thank you," Michael said and slightly bowed.
"Yes, thank you," I said and felt once again like that shy school girl.
We walk around as Michael introduced me to several of his office friends. Each looked at me as if they didn't know he was even married. I questioned Michael about it, and he said it had to do with how young and pretty I was. They knew he was married. Though, Michael didn't wear a ring. Because we still hadn't bought any. Not due to my lack of asking. And we still hadn't taken another family picture since the one he destroyed. I was waiting for him to make the initiative. I'd be waiting for a long time.
A man came over with a tray of champagne and Michael grabbed one for me. I was six months shy from turning twenty-one, and
standing next to Michael in that little, black dress, holding a glass of champagne felt like a fairy-tale. My very true fairy-tale. The one I dreamed me, and Michael would have someday.
As I took a sip, I noticed a woman with her eyes fixed on Michael and then…me. She was with a man, but it didn't seem to matter. She was clearly ogling my husband with an agenda. I couldn't spot a ring on her finger and wondered if she was who Michael stayed with when we separated a few years back. Of course, every woman I came across that stared at Michael to me was the one. She eyed me up and down, sizing me up. I was going to play her game. I smiled at her and walked across the room. Looking back, Michael watched as I walked away. He had a nervous look in his eyes, and then went back to the man he was talking with and turning his head again in my direction.
"Hello. Do we know each other?" I asked most pleasantly. "You were looking at me as if you may know me. I didn't want to appear rude. Have I forgotten that we have met before? Maybe college?"
She suddenly appeared guarded and gave me a nervous smile. "Ahh, I don't think so."
"Are you sure? I mean, college was so hectic, and I did graduate early. Did we run with the same circle?"
"Again, I don't think so."
"Where did you graduate…college?" I asked and took a sip of champagne.
"Um…I didn't." She looked around for the man that was with her earlier. Now that I was closer to her, she wasn't as pretty as I once gave her credit a few seconds ago. She was apparently in her thirties. Her face a bit dull with dry skin. The fine lines around her eyes and cheeks gave evidence of excessive sun and lack elasticity.
"I'm Jill," I said and held out my hand. She looked at it as if it would bite and then slowly gave me a puny shake.
"Denise," she said.
"Denise," I parroted, feigning my memory of a Denise. But I knew no Denise. "Sorry, maybe we don't know each other. Do you work with Michael…my husband?"
"I've…seen him around. He works on the upper floor," she said, still with a nervous edge in her voice. She was definitely the woman he stayed with, and I wanted her to know that I knew it.
"Oh, now I remember. Michael told me you helped him out a few years back while we separated. Men," I exasperated, "Just don't like to give us credit. But when he came begging to take him back…what could I do?" I smiled and glanced over at Michael. He smiled and walked our way. His arms wrapped around me and I leaned into his chest.
"What are you ladies talking about?" he said, his eyes begging Denise.
"Wouldn't you love to know," I said and kissed his jaw and then took another sip of champagne. I felt his chest rise as he took in a breath.
"Jill, I would like to introduce you to my boss," Michael said, and I knew it was an excuse to get me away from Denise.
"Oh? Okay. It was nice meeting you, Denise."
Michael's eyes cast from me to her in a panic. Good. Let them know how it feels to be on the other side of the unknown.
As we walked away, the tight hold he had around my waist wasn't from his sudden urge to adore me. He was pissed, but I didn't care. "What the hell was that all about?" he asked.
"I was just being friendly." He eyed me surreptitiously, and I only returned his look. "She was looking at me like she knew me. So, I went over and said hello. I didn't want to be rude." I lifted my glass, but before I took a sip, I said, "She was rude by staring at me…and ogling you." When I brought my glass back down, I said, "She is the one, isn't she?" His eyes threw me daggers and then pleaded with me.
"Jill, please," he said, and just for a second, I felt pity for him. I don't know why he didn't deserve my sympathy. Just being in a room with another woman who slept with my husband elevated my boldness and I felt my backbone come to life. But I knew it was a long time ago and I wanted to enjoy this Christmas party with Michael.
"I'm sorry," I said and kissed him on the cheek. "So, where's this boss you want me to meet?"
"Over here," he said and walked me across the room with his arm around me. I hoped Miss Denise was watching.
"Mr. Hayden, this is my wife, Jill." Again, I loved the word wife flowing from Michael's lips. I smiled and looked up at the gentleman.
"Hello, it's nice to meet you. Thank you for inviting us. This is really lovely." The man looked at me and had a strange look on his face. At first, I thought maybe he was deaf, or perhaps spoke another language, but I knew he didn't. His gaze was confusing. I looked up at Michael.
"I'm sorry, forgive me," Mr. Hayden said. "I wasn't expecting Michael's wife to be so young. You're just a child, my dear." I batted my lashes, suddenly feeling shy. I thought I looked grown up tonight. So much for the little, black dress.
"Jill is a bit younger than me," Michael said. And as he talked to his boss, the man's eyes never left me. He was handsome in an Italian sort of way. Dark, thick hair glossed back, and his face gave the appearance of power and control. He stood a few inches taller than Michael and his Armani suit fit his body like art. It was definitely tailor-made.
My eyes moved to the floor, and I bit my bottom lip. I was afraid I was embarrassing Michael. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, and I looked up at him. He offered his hand, and when I extended mine, he kissed the back of it. Instead of letting go, he held my hand the entirety of his and Michael's conversation. I finally made a fake cough and pulled my hand from his. "Sorry," I said. Still, his eyes remained glued to me.
The man with the tray of champagne appeared, taking our empty glasses and offered us more. "Are you even old enough to drink, my lovely?" My Hayden teased. But I thought he was serious, and moved my hand away from the tray, holding my waist with uneasiness. "I'm only kidding, Dear. Here," he said and grabbed up a glass for me. "Please, take." I took the glass like an offering, and his fingers trailed over mine with the exchange.
"Thank you," I said and took a sip, his eyes watching my mouth. As Michael talked, I looked around at the party, keeping myself busy with the festivities, so not to feel the stare Mr. Hayden still had on me.
"Michael," a man hollered. Michael looked back at the man calling his name.
"Hey, what's up?" Michael said in that buddies-watching-football-together voice. He stepped away and began talking to the man. As the two men were engrossed in their conversation, slapping backs and shaking hands, I waited for Michael to call me over. I looked up at the man still ogling me. I smile to excuse myself. But before I could get the words out, he took me by the arm and began walking me away.
"Let me give you a tour of the place. Have you ever been to the Whirlpool mansion before?"
"Ah…no," I said, my voice shaking. I looked back at Michael, still oblivious to the man walking me away.
"Well, let me give you the grand tour." He smiled, and his teeth seemed to gleam with his toothy white smile.
As we left the room, his hand went to my waist, and I felt the heat radiating off him. The man towered over me. "You like to read?"
"I do. When I have time. I have a three-year-old. So, most of my reading is for her. But I try to get a few books in for myself," I added to seem invested in the conversation.
"Let me show you the library. What do you read?"
"Fiction. Suspense and thrillers."
"What? No romance for such a beautiful, young girl?" he asked as he opened a huge double door and waved for me to enter. I did read romance but didn't want him to know that. Michael made enough fun of me for reading them.
"I do read…romance," I said.
The door shut and I was now alone with this huge, Italian man who looked like he wanted to bed me. He was at least twice my age. I looked around the historic library, books from floor to ceiling. "How's the champagne?" he asked.
I looked down at my glass. "It's good."
"Something a bit stronger for my needs," he said and walked over to a cart with decanters filled with bourbon—I guess. I heard the pop the decanter as he poured himself to fingers full in a small glass. "Would you like a bourbon?" I was right.
"No thank you. Th
e Champagne is fine."
Once his bourbon was poured, he walked over with that look in his eye again. I swallowed and looked around. Couldn't he clearly see he made me nervous? But maybe that was his plan. Where was my backbone now?
"Michael is a fortunate man," he said and sipped his bourbon.
"Thank you. I'm lucky too…to have Michael," I said, letting him know my devotion to my husband.
"Yes. Michael is quite the lady's man." I didn't like was he was referring. "A player." All while he talked, his eyes lusted all over me.
"Excuse me; I need to get back. Michael is probably looking for me." He grabbed my arm. Not hard, but enough to stop me.
"He'll find you. Trust me." He winked and set his bourbon down on a table and pulled me to him. I was now pressed up against his hard chest. "You've met Denise?"
My eyes scanned across his face. What was going on? Was he and Denise in on something together? Was there more about Michael? "I think you should let go of me." I forced authority in my voice. But next to him, I still sounded like a lost fawn.
"You know, Michael likes his women. I see now why he has kept you hidden."
"Mr. Hayden, Michael and I have had our problems, and that was a long time ago. We have a child together, and we are working hard to keep our family together."
"That's not was this is about, my Lovely. I would never bust up your family. I just would like to enjoy you for a little while. I can share, and I'm sure Michael is keen to the lifestyle."
"Stop it. Let me go." I struggled to get out of his hold.
"Or, we could keep this just between ourselves. Wouldn't you like a man to worship you? Trust me, I would worship every inch of your body." Was Michael into that lifestyle and this was the reason he brought me? If he was, then why was he upset when Drake kissed me? Michael displayed nothing but ownership over me in front of Drake.
"Please, let go of me. Michael and I are not like that. We love each other," I begged.
"Jill!" Michael's voice echoed in the room. I turned and saw him running toward me. Mr. Hayden quickly released me from his embrace. "What's going on?"
"I was just making Jill an offer. But maybe I should ask you. I would like to sleep with your wife." He said it like I was a bike he wanted to borrow.
Love, Michael: A second chance romance Page 25