The Beautiful Ones (Arabesque)

by Byrd, Adrianne

  The alarm clock blared from the bedroom, and Solomon casually reached for the towel to dry his face. Calmly, he strolled back into his bedroom, eased onto the edge of the bed, and shut off the alarm.

  The morning’s soft sunlight streamed through the large windows and kissed his face, but it failed to warm him. What was he going to do now? How could he possibly face a life without Ophelia?

  There was nothing left of his heart to break. It had shattered hours ago when she’d last called. A low chuckle escaped him. He’d never pursued a serious relationship with Ophelia for fear of the off chance it could cost them their friendship—and he’d still lost it.

  “I just can’t win for losing,” he mumbled.

  You should have told her that night. Solomon nodded to the little voice in his head. No one ever gets anywhere by playing it safe. He knew that. It had certainly applied to his business, and it sure as hell applied now.

  He stood and walked over to the window, and gazed out at the landscape of his estate. In no time at all his mind drifted back to that wonderful night.

  * * *

  “How about that champagne now?” Ophelia giggled and sat up in bed. Of course, now they had to reach up for the bottle and cheap wineglasses.

  “I wish you’d thought to bring an oxygen tank,” Solomon moaned. “I think you’re trying to kill me.”

  “Come on, Mr. Two-time Football Champion. You should know that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

  She wiggled her rump against him, and his long shaft instantly hardened and throbbed.

  Yeah, she was going to be the death of him.

  “Shall we make a toast?” she asked, handing him the bottle and corkscrew.

  He accepted the items from her. “What would you like to toast to?”

  “How about to me for no longer being the last virgin on campus?” She laughed with a roll of her eyes.

  Solomon frowned. “What was so bad about being a virgin? What happened to wanting to wait until your wedding night?”

  “Did you wait?” she challenged.

  Solomon froze at the note of irritability in her tone. “Men aren’t the ones that are supposed to wait. That’s just setting the stage for disaster if neither party knows what the hell they’re doing.”

  She stared at him as though he had grown another head. “If the men aren’t supposed to wait and the women are, then who exactly are the men doing it with?”

  He opened his mouth to respond, but words failed him.

  “Uh-huh.” She crossed her arms. “You were the last person I thought would be sexist.”

  Solomon could tell a rant was coming on. Such things kept happening since she signed up for women’s studies this part quarter. Before she revved up, he could only think to do one thing.

  He kissed her.

  A second later, he popped the champagne cork. Ophelia and Solomon sprang apart, trying to escape the bubbly’s flow. Another round of laughter erupted and they finally managed to get some of the champagne into the two glasses.

  “To you no longer being a virgin.” Solomon held up his glass.

  “And to you for accepting my one-night-only invitation.” She clinked their glasses together and then eagerly took a sip.

  Solomon didn’t.

  Her eyes sought his before she lowered her glass. “What’s the matter?”

  “Seems there was a clause you didn’t tell me about.”

  “What, this being a one-time thing?” she questioned with a small smile.

  “Yeah, that.”

  “Well, I thought that would have been obvious. I mean…can you imagine us being a couple?” She laughed.

  He gave a halfhearted chuckle. “You know, most women like to kiss, cuddle, and murmur sweet nothings after sex. You, on the other hand, really know how to hit a man where it hurts.”

  Ophelia blinked and then returned her glass to the nightstand. “No, no. The sex is wonderful.”

  “Gee. Thanks.”

  “But come on. Let’s be practical. We’re young, still in college. You still have wild oats to sow, I might have a few of my own.”

  “Who the hell teaches those damn classes you’re taking?”

  She sat her glass on the floor and then turned to caress his face.

  He stilled her hand. “I’m starting to feel as though I’ve been used.”

  She laughed again. “Don’t be silly. I’m just being practical.”

  “There’s that word again.”

  She sighed and held his steady gaze. “We’ve been friends a long time, Sol. You know I’ve always been pretty straight with you. But do you know how many adolescent relationships survive college?”

  “No. But I’m sure you do.” He sighed, and then downed his drink in one gulp.

  “As a matter of fact, I do. Half of one percent. Like those odds?”

  Groaning, Solomon turned to climb out of bed.

  “Wait. Where are you going?”

  “Home. We’re done here, aren’t we?” He grabbed his boxers.

  “You’re mad.”

  “I’m not mad.” He stood up.

  Ophelia flung the sheets back, crawled over to his side of the bed, and tapped his firm buttocks before he slid on his boxers. “So it’s happening already?”

  He glanced back at her. Her beautiful nude body left him spellbound and prevented him from moving another inch. “What’s happening?”

  “Sex is already changing us? Are you going to leave and never speak to me again just because I’m being honest?”

  “Of course not.”

  Her delicately arched eyebrows rose. “This was the only con I could think of before asking you to come here tonight—the fear that sex could cost us our friendship, never mind what would happen if a love affair soured. You mean too much to me. I’d rather have you in my life as a friend than not at all. What about you?”

  Solomon stared at her, barely able to breathe because of the painful throb in his chest.

  “Stay,” she urged.

  His throat constricted, and he allowed her to pull him toward her.

  “Just for the night,” she whispered. “And no one will ever have to know.”

  He lost himself in her sweet kisses and soft curves. If this was the only night he had, he might as well make the most of it.

  And he did just that.

  Intermission

  Chapter 17

  Back at the Crown Room

  Toni thanked the bartender for replacing her drink before settling her gaze back on the handsome man beside her. “So far, this sounds like one hell of a triangle.”

  “Sometimes love gives you more than you bargained for.”

  “So I’ve been told,” she whispered, taking a sip of her drink.

  “You’ve never been in love?” he asked.

  The question threw her off guard. At age forty, Toni had dated many men—from all walks of life. Some men had showed her a good time, others had taught her life lessons, and the rest she’d rather forget.

  “I’m going to take that as no.” He chuckled.

  “Well, it’s not that I don’t believe in love or anything,” she said. “But I’ve never experienced a lightning bolt or stared into the depths of a man’s eyes and felt beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’d met my soul mate.” Toni laughed it off, but she was crushed by a wave of disappointment. She had come close once, but close didn’t count.

  “Then consider yourself lucky,” he mumbled.

  She didn’t feel so lucky. While she was out leaping tall buildings in a single bound, most of her friends had settled down and started families. Meanwhile, she couldn’t decide whether owning a dog was too much of a commitment.

  “Flight 2193 is now ready for boarding. Flight 2193.”

  Toni sighed. At this rate, she should’ve just taken a taxi to Los Angeles. “So what happened next?” she asked, reaching for her glass. “I have to admit I’m intrigued.”

  “And here I thought I was boring you.”

  “
Not hardly.” She nudged him. “Go on. I’m dying to know how this all played out.”

  He glanced at his watch and gave a half shrug. “All right. Let’s see. What happened next?”

  Do You Want Him, or Do You Want Me?

  Chapter 18

  “Oh, Jonas. It’s beautiful.” Ophelia pressed a hand against her mouth as she stared at the magnificent blue diamond.

  “I’m glad you like it.” Jonas puffed out his chest while watching his fiancée’s eyes gloss with fresh tears. He was glad he chose to present her with the ring over breakfast. The sooner they were able to put last night behind them, the better. “Trust me. The diamond pales in comparison to you.”

  She cocked her head and looked up at him.

  “Poured on a bit thick?” he asked with an uneven smile.

  “Just a bit, but it was still nice to hear.”

  Jonas smiled, extracted the ring from its burgundy box, and then reached for her hand. Pride filled him as the ring slid onto her long finger and sparkled beneath the morning light.

  Seeing her reaction did ease some of his guilt. The moment he saw her this morning, he noticed the puffy bags and the tinge of redness in her eyes. She had been crying, most likely over his walking out.

  “Seems like the only formality left is for me to talk with your father,” he joked.

  Ophelia responded with a soft laugh. “Oh, yes. Time to meet the parents. I’m nervous about meeting yours, too.”

  “Well, I’m sure my parents are going to love you.”

  She smiled, but then drew a deep breath. “I wish I could say the same.”

  Jonas frowned. “What do you mean? I’ve already met your mother. I thought she liked me?”

  “Oh, she does.” She pressed a reassuring hand against his. “It’s my father you’re going to have to worry about. Well, you shouldn’t worry—he’s not going to like you.”

  “That’s encouraging.” He frowned.

  “Hey, last Christmas was the first time he called Marcel by his name. Before then, he was just referred to as ‘young man.’”

  “What about Solomon?”

  “Young man number two. A lot of times it was just a toss-up as to who he was talking to.”

  “I…see.” Jonas’s worried expression intensified.

  “He’s just a little overprotective. That’s all.”

  “Overprotective? Then how did he allow you to go gallivanting off to Cancun to room with two boys?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She rolled her eyes skyward. “You probably shouldn’t mention that. To this day, he thinks I went to visit a cousin out in California.”

  Jonas plopped back into his chair and just stared at her. “Uh-huh. Did you lie to your father often?”

  “It wasn’t a complete lie. Before we came back, I swung by my cousin Amy’s house for a day or two. It’s more like I elected not to tell my father everything. He’s a strict retired marine who would’ve skinned the three of us alive, even to this day, if he ever found out the truth.”

  He knew he was going to hate this, but he had to ask, “Were there any other grand adventures you took with Marcel and Solomon that you didn’t tell your father about?”

  “Yeah. All of them.”

  Jonas stiffened. Just how many were there?

  “But the point is,” she said, squeezing his hand, “that there won’t be any more secret trips. We’ve all grown up and have chosen our life partners—”

  “A seven-year affair with a married woman hardly qualifies as a life partner,” he sniped.

  She lowered her gaze and stared at her ring. “Maybe, maybe not. We shouldn’t judge,” she said quietly.

  Jonas grew uncomfortable in the thickening silence. “Anyway, I’m sure I’ll be able to win your father over. A lot of people think I’m charming.”

  She fluttered a brief smile. “You are that. You won me over.”

  “Have I?” The two simple words held a lot of weight and meaning to them, and Jonas was determined to hold her golden gaze until he had an answer.

  “I’m still here, aren’t I?” she answered with a question of her own. Then she drew a deep breath and thrust up her chin. “About last night.”

  He clenched his teeth. He knew they would have to discuss this, but he preferred to just forget the whole thing. “Yes. What about it?”

  “You walked out on me.”

  “Yes, I know—”

  “Don’t ever do it again,” she warned.

  Jonas’s brows rose in surprise at her hard tone. He wasn’t accustomed to being told what to do, or even being challenged, for that matter.

  “If there’s something wrong,” she said, softening her tone, “we talk about it. It’s important we agree to this, or we’re not going to make it.”

  Staring into her direct gaze, Jonas suddenly felt as though he was balancing on a thin thread. If he made the wrong move, there was a good chance she would be handing the ring back. However, he needed something to be resolved as well.

  “Then let’s talk now,” he said evenly. “I don’t like Solomon. I don’t trust him.”

  “Then you don’t trust me.”

  “And I don’t believe you’ve told me everything that has happened between you two,” he added, ignoring her comment. “But at this point, I’m not sure I want to know.”

  A swift silence ensued.

  “Two great things about the past,” he continued. “One: we all have them. And two: it is the past.” He waited until he was certain she caught his meaning. “If Solomon continues to stay around, then I agree with you… We’re not going to make it.”

  Ophelia’s attention, once again, returned to the ring, sparkling on her finger.

  Jonas’s heart squeezed at her look of indiscretion. He had hoped for immediate pacification or denial, but it was clear now he would get neither. “O-o-okay.” He crossed his arms. “I have to leave for L.A. today,” he continued thickly. “Why don’t you take a few days to really think this over? Either you’re going to be my wife or Solomon’s best friend. You can’t be both.”

  * * *

  Solomon was the first to arrive at T & B Entertainment. He had a ton of paperwork to catch up on, a couple of acts to review, and a few meetings to conduct. From here on out, he wasn’t going to sweat things he couldn’t control. If Ophelia wanted to toss their twenty-five-year relationship out of the window, so be it. He had a company to run.

  After doling out a greeting to Frank, the half-asleep security guard on duty, Solomon headed to the elevator bay. He loved the office at this time of morning. He tended to get more done when it was quiet.

  However, he was somewhat surprised when he entered his office to the sound of a ringing phone. Maybe it would be quick, he rationalized, and then crossed the large office in a few quick strides. “Bassett,” he answered.

  “I knew your butt would be in the office this early,” Selma’s disappointed voice filled the line.

  “Well, you know how much I hate to disappoint the ladies.” He chuckled while sliding off his jacket. “Where are you?”

  “Waiting to board my plane,” she huffed. “Did you talk to Ophelia yet?”

  His hand tightened on the phone as he lowered into his chair. “Yeah. We talked—or more like, she said what she had to say.”

  “Did you tell her the truth about us?” Concern edged its way into her voice.

  “The subject never came up.” His throat tightened, forcing him to conclude the conversation. “Look, Selma. I have a lot of work I have to take care of today. Why don’t you just give me a call after you make it home?”

  “Sol, what happened?”

  “I have meetings and auditions lined up,” he went on, rubbing his chest. “We can talk about this at another time.”

  For a moment, the only sound over the line was the busy Hartsfield-Jackson airport. When she finally responded, her voice was soft and maternal. “You promise we’ll talk later?”

  He didn’t want to promise anything. “We’ll talk.” After di
sconnecting the call, Solomon eased back in his chair and just stared at the phone. The desire to call Ophelia was strong, however, his head overruled his heart.