Still, Forever, Promise

by D. L. Merritt

  “You seem tense. Are you nervous about the dinner party?” Ben said.

  She nodded, not wanting him to know her thoughts had been on Riley.

  “Let me help. I’ll cook wild Alaskan salmon with herb mustard glaze. It’s my specialty.”

  Ben cooked almost as well as his sister. She jumped at the opportunity and had him stop at the local grocery store. He went to the fish counter, and she wandered into the produce section for fresh dill, squash, and ingredients to make a salad.

  After loading the groceries in the trunk, Ben helped her into the car and they sped off.

  “I sure hope dinner goes well,” Brianna said. “I want my friends to see how much my cooking skills have improved. I couldn’t boil water without burning it the last time we were together.”

  “You can stop worrying now. Your friends can’t help but be impressed with me cooking the main course?”

  “Whatever was I thinking?” she said, striking her forehead with the palm of her hand.

  Relieved Ben wasn’t tossing out questions she couldn’t answer, Brianna relaxed. He seemed his usual easygoing self. She, on the other hand, was frozen to the very core. Thoughts of spending an evening with Riley brought ambivalent emotions crashing in, along with a torrent of images that had the potential to ruin everything. He was the cause of all her heartache. How could she endure being in the same room, pretending they were friends, especially after what he did?

  It’s only one night. You can handle it. Riley has no control over you. Not anymore.

  Once they’d reached the manor, Ben helped her unpack the groceries. She laid claim to the oven to bake a cake for dessert while Ben dressed the salmon, and then he popped it in the oven the minute the cake came out.

  While Ben kept a watchful eye on the fish, she cooked couscous with fresh dill and sautéed the squash.

  He helped chop the vegetables for the salad, snatching a tomato or carrot to deliberately agitate her. He dodged the first piece of lettuce she threw at his head. The second one hit its mark. He avoided the third by clasping her around the waist and nibbling on the vulnerable spot between her neck and shoulder.

  She pushed him away with a half-hearted shove. With her hand pressed against his chest, she murmured, “Later. Our guests will be here soon.”

  Ben tugged her toward him again, and the doorbell rang.

  “They’re here, so behave,” she said, pointing her finger at him in warning. On her way out of the kitchen, she called over her shoulder, “I promise I’ll make it up to you later.”

  He groaned.

  She laughed all the way to the door, and was still laughing when she greeted Beverly and George.

  Beverly held an armful of peach-colored roses with greenery and delicate sprigs of baby’s breath woven throughout. She’d wrapped the stems of the bouquet in a damp paper towel and waxed paper. Handing them to Brianna, Beverly mumbled, “I picked these from our garden. I thought they would make a nice centerpiece for the table.”

  Brianna held the bouquet to her nose and inhaled deeply. “These smell wonderful, Beverly. Store bought ones never seem to smell. I wonder why?” She waved them inside and laid the flowers on the foyer table to hang Beverly’s purse and sweater in the coat closet. “You must have a green thumb. Me, not so much. I even kill plastic plants.”

  “I can’t believe that,” Beverly said, frowning. “I remember you helped your mother in the garden all the time.”

  “I was there for moral support and to hold the pots. She only let me dig the holes while she did all the planting and cultivating.”

  Beverly’s tinkling giggles had both George and Brianna joining in.

  “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I wasn’t always good with plants,” Beverly said. “I needed a hobby, so I took a gardening and floral arranging class last year. I fell in love with it, and that’s when I decided I’m going to open a flower shop when the kids get a little older.”

  “If all your arrangements look like this, I’ll be your first customer.” Brianna paused for a moment. “Can I pay you to make arrangements for the spa every week? Fresh flowers will add a nice touch.”

  Beverly’s face lit up and she enthusiastically agreed.

  With that settled, Brianna led them to the living room where they could wait for Jackie to arrive.

  “Jackie never gets anywhere on time,” Beverly said. “She was always late for school, but then if I remember right, so were you.”

  “I still am. Even when I try to give myself plenty of time, I can always find something that needs to be done at the last minute and I’m late.” What she didn’t tell Beverly was the reason she was late for school was because Riley would park on lover’s lane to make out with her before they had to spend hours apart. “If you two will excuse me, I need to get back in the kitchen to check on the food and look for a vase. Would you care for anything to drink?”

  George asked for a beer; Beverly, water.

  Brianna ransacked the kitchen until she found a Mason jar and string left behind by one of the construction crew. She washed the container, wrapped one of the navy blue cloth napkins around the glass, and tied it with the string. She cut the stems to fit, and arranged the flowers in the improvised vase. Once the arrangement was to her satisfaction, she headed into the dining room to place it in the middle of the table.

  Beverly walked into the room and leaned against the doorframe. “Six place settings? Is Jackie bringing a date? I didn’t think she was involved with anyone at the moment.”

  “She’s not. Riley’s coming.”

  Beverly’s surprise was apparent by her immediate jaw-dropping expression of horror. “You aren’t kidding, are you?”

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Brianna said. “Inviting him was not my idea.”

  Before Beverly had a chance to ask the next question, the doorbell rang. “Bev, I left your drinks on the kitchen counter. Would you mind getting them while I get the door?” Brianna left to greet her next guest.

  Jackie stood on the welcome mat with a smirk on her face. “Guess who followed me here,” she said, tipping her head toward the driveway.

  Brianna watched as Riley pulled his car into the covered parking area.

  “Inviting Riley? Have you lost your mind?” Jackie whispered, “What does Ben think about your ex-lover joining us for dinner?”

  “Ben was the one who invited him. They met today by accident, and he doesn’t know anything about Riley, or at least I don’t think so.”

  “And you couldn’t get out of it?”

  “I tried, but I couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t make Ben suspicious.”

  Riley raced toward the door but stopped in the middle of the walkway when he spotted them. His eyes held a mysterious gleam as he scanned Brianna from head to toe. The wide grin on his face had Brianna grimacing.

  “Good evening, Anya. You look beautiful, as always.” He handed her two bottles of wine. “Would you mind putting these in your fridge? It’s better served cold.”

  With a sneer, she grabbed the bottles.

  Riley raised an eyebrow, and his grin broadened.

  I hate it when he smiles like that. It’s so condescending. Stay cool and he’ll never guess how much he affects you, Brianna opened the door wider and waved her guests inside.

  “Will you be a gentlemen and escort me in,” Jackie said, looping her arm through Riley’s.

  The couple followed Brianna into the living room. George stood to shake Riley’s hand and hug Jackie. Beverly hugged them both. The chatter was instant with everyone talking at the same time. Brianna took this opportunity to head for the kitchen to put the wine in the refrigerator. With a quick peck on Ben’s cheek, she returned to her friends.

  As she entered the living room, she heard George asking Riley how he liked living in New York. She sat on the sofa and listened to Riley monopolize the conversation with all the sights, sounds, and smells of Manhattan. The way his face lit up when describing his life in the big c
ity made it obvious that way of life suited him. If he loves it there so much, why he is still here?

  “Dinner smells delicious, Bree. What is it?” Beverly asked.

  “Baked Alaskan salmon—Ben says it’s his specialty. I made the sides and dessert.”

  “I can hardly wait,” George said, patting his stomach. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day. It’ll be a nice change from mac and cheese and TV dinners.”

  Before Beverly could lay into him, Ben walked into the room with an armful of glasses and an open bottle of Pinot Grigio.

  While Ben filled the glasses and passed them around, Brianna made the introductions. She could tell her friends were won over with the exception of Riley, who scowled.

  “How ’bout a guided tour?” Beverly asked, taking a sip of wine. “I’d love to see what you’ve done to the place.”

  “Me too,” Jackie added.

  “Go ahead and show them, Bree,” Ben said. “I need to baste the salmon one more time. You’ve got about ten minutes before dinner’s ready.”

  The group fell into place behind Brianna as she guided them through the house, explaining each room’s function in relation to the spa. She hated having to endure Riley’s scrutiny of her work. The expression on his face never changed. She couldn’t tell if he was impressed or disappointed. Why should she care anyway? But she did.

  They ended the tour in the dining room, where Ben had already laid the food out on the table. Everyone took a seat. Riley sat in the chair opposite Brianna. When a foot brushed against hers under the table, she glanced at him. He winked. She looked at Ben to see if he’d noticed. He was busy refilling their wine glasses and raised his for a toast.

  “Here’s to good times and good friends to share it with,” he said.

  The tinkling of glasses and a round of “Cheers?” echoed through the room.

  Throughout dinner, Beverly and George had them all laughing with stories about the latest escapades of their two children.

  “They’re a two-man demolition crew,” George said. “It takes them about a minute to destroy a room. Hey, Brianna, if you need any more walls torn down, they’re available, for a small fee.”

  “I’ll pass, but thanks,” Brianna replied.

  “From what Bree’s told me, you’ve all known each other for a long time,” Ben said, looking from one to the other.

  They all nodded.

  “Tell me something I can use for blackmail. I’m tired of losing every argument. Sometimes she seems too perfect to be real.”

  “She’s been that way forever, Ben,” Jackie said. “Bev and I went to the same elementary school, but Bree went to a private school. We didn’t meet until the sixth grade. Brianna was the prettiest and the most popular girl there. We were sure she wouldn’t want to be friends with us, so we pretty much ignored her. Even though we had several classes together, we never spoke. Bev and I were surprised when she came up to our lunch table one day and introduced herself. We’ve been friends ever since.”

  Ben groaned. “You’re not helping, Jackie. You make her sound even more perfect.”

  “Sorry. I can’t think of anything bad to say about her.”

  “I’ll give you the twenty bucks later,” Brianna said, smiling.

  Beverly jumped into the conversation. “I can remember something.”

  “That sounds promising,” Ben said.

  “It was in biology class our sophomore year. Our assignment was to dissect a frog.” Beverly shuddered.

  “I remember that day,” George said. “Weird.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere. Keep talking, Beverly,” Ben prodded

  “Well, none of the girls could stomach cutting open Kermit, so we begged our lab partners to do it—except for Bree. It didn’t seem to faze her at all. When her lab partner passed out cold on the floor, she stepped right over his body, picked up the scalpel, and cut that little frog right down the middle without flinching once.

  “That’s an exaggeration,” Brianna said. “I didn’t step over him. I waited until the teacher took him to the nurse.” She took a casual sip of wine.

  “Isn’t that the day you got the nickname Ripper?” Riley asked.

  “Okay, you guys, give me a break. The frog was already dead. Remember, my mom was a nurse and I heard her tell my dad all kinds of stories about gruesome operations and accident victims who came to the hospital bloody and mangled.”

  “It was kinda creepy watching you cut up that frog,” Beverly said. “You were so cold about it, almost like a different person.”

  “I think you can stop now. Ben has enough dirt on me for one night. Does anyone want seconds?”

  George pushed his plate away, shaking his head and loosening his belt. “I can’t eat another bite, especially after the visual of ol’ Kermit. Dinner was great though.”

  Everyone agreed.

  “What’s for dessert?” Beverly asked.

  “Sea salt caramel cake—Ben’s favorite. His sister gave me the recipe. She’s almost a gourmet cook. Would you like dessert now or wait until our food settles?”

  “Now,” Beverly said. “That cake sounds too yummy to wait.”

  Brianna polled the others, and the decision was made.

  “I guess no one’s that full after all.” Brianna chuckled. “Let’s head to the living room. We’ll be more comfortable in there. Ben, why don’t you start a fire? I’ll get dessert and bring it in.”

  “I’ll come with you and open one of the bottles of wine I brought,” Riley said. “It’ll go well with dessert.”

  She noticed a scowl cross Ben’s face. She had a hard time containing her anger. Riley not only had invaded her home, but now his behavior could pose a potential problem with Ben. She grabbed a couple dishes from the table and headed to the kitchen.

  Everyone except Riley followed Ben into the living room.

  Once she passed through the swinging café doors, she proceeded to slam cupboards while gathering extra dishes and utensils.

  Riley walked to the refrigerator, retrieved the wine, and sauntered toward Brianna. He set the bottle on the counter next to her.

  She turned away, refusing to look him in the eyes. He was so close that she could feel his hot breath on her neck.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispered against her skin.

  “Please, don’t do this,” she said, taking a step back, desperate to put some distance between them.

  Riley reached out for her arm and pulled her back to him. His fingers were strong, unrelenting. He tipped her face up to look into her eyes. “Why are you trying so hard to deny this . . . whatever this is between us? It’s not going away because you want it to.”

  She met the intensity of his gaze, and was overwhelmed with forbidden memories—the feel of his skin, the way his muscles rippled under her touch, and the way his lips brushed against hers.

  In his deep, sexy voice, his lips hovering inches from hers, he whispered, “Anya.”

  Even though a thousand warning bells blared in her brain, her body betrayed her. She leaned in a fraction closer. For one reckless moment, she gave in to the desire, to the need, to the madness. Why is it every time I’m with him, I lose all control? I can’t let this happen.

  Her mind screamed, Stop!

  Her body ignored the signal.

  She stumbled back in a feeble attempt to resist his pull. They jumped further apart when the café doors swung wide open and banged against the wall.

  Ben stood in the doorway. “You’ve been in here a long time. I thought you might need some help. We’ve got some hungry people out there threatening to riot if we don’t bring the cake out soon.”

  Brianna couldn’t stop the flush that swept across her cheeks, and she turned her head away. She wasn’t sure how close she was to Riley when Ben walked in or if he noticed the sexual tension flying between them. Flashing Ben a fake smile, she handed him the cake.

  “We could use some help,” she said.

  Riley grinned. He held up the bo
ttle of wine and a corkscrew. “I got what I came for.” He picked the dessert plates up in his free hand and left the kitchen.

  Brianna and Ben followed. Neither spoke the entire way to the living room.

  “It’s about time! I thought I’d have to raid the cookie jar.” Beverly said, easing the tension.

  Brianna sliced the cake and placed it on the plates, handing one to each of her guests.

  “You won’t be disappointed,” Ben said, taking a huge bite. “This cake is to die for.”

  A hush came over the room as the guests took their first taste. No one said a word until only crumbs remained.

  Once the empty plates had been stacked on the coffee table, Ben spoke. “I’m curious about Bree’s nickname in high school—Anya?”

  Without thinking twice, Brianna answered, “I didn’t have it for long. I didn’t like it.” She glanced at Riley. His brows were drawn together in a frown.

  Brianna managed to steer the discussion in a less volatile direction, and the group spent the rest of the evening enjoying the roaring fire, another two bottles of wine, watermelon Jell-O shots, and stimulating conversation.

  When George’s head kept dipping, Beverly nudged him with her elbow. “It’s getting late. We should head out. I’m sure the babysitter is ready to go home.”

  George yawned. “Let’s be honest,” he said. “She’ll be ready to escape. She’ll knock us over on her way out the door. That’s what usually happens when we find a good babysitter. One night with our two kids, and we never see them again. They won’t answer our calls either.”

  “I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Brianna said.

  “Then you’ll be the next one we call,” George replied.

  “I don’t intend to be here that long.”

  Ben and Brianna escorted their guests to the veranda. As she watched Riley walk to his car with his usual confident swagger, she felt her cheeks grow hot again. With Ben’s arm around her waist, they waited until all the cars headlights disappeared around the curve of the road before returning inside.