Shades of Trust

by Cristiane Serruya

  Handsome. 10:54 p.m. - NO. I don’t think I’ll be able to stand up.

  Sophia thought for a second and her malicious smile turned into giggle. She shoved the sheets away and rolled on the bed, resting on her stomach, supporting herself on her forearms.

  Sophia. 10:56 p.m. - Want a blow job?

  Handsome. 10:57 p.m. - JESUS CHRIST!

  Handsome. 10:57 p.m. - You’re going to kill me from afar.

  Sophia. 10:58 p.m. - No? Something lighter then. Hmm.

  Handsome. 10:58 p.m. - You’re too distracting.

  Sophia. 11:00 p.m. – My hand is in your tailored trousers looking for something hard.

  Handsome. 11:01 p.m. - ENOUGH. See you tomorrow.

  Sophia laughed harder and sent her last message.

  Sophia. 11:01 p.m. - Tomorrow, Handsome. Sweet dreams…if you can sleep.

  Leibowitz Oil Building

  Friday, March 12, 2010

  4:00 p.m.

  Sophia sat still for several minutes looking at the pulsing cursor on the blank page of her e-mail.

  Standing up, she blew an irritated sigh that made a lock of midnight-black hair fall over her eye. Irritated, she pushed it aside. She’d never had any trouble figuring out how to solve Leibowitz’s problems before. Since lunchtime, she hadn’t managed a decent thought and now the day was ending. I can’t call Edward again. He’s going to tell me to fuck off. Literally.

  Alistair kept popping into her head. He hadn’t been able to return yesterday as he predicted and she missed him. A lot.

  What shall I do? Am I prepared to plunge into another relationship so soon? She went to the window and placed her hands on the glass, not really looking at the astonishing view of the river. Oh, damn! Who am I fooling? I’m already in it. Deep.

  She flexed her shoulder muscles, and as she remembered her chat with Felipe the day before, a daring smile formed. She returned to her table and picked up her iPhone to call Alice. Ariadne answered the phone.

  “Hi, little princess. How are you?”

  “Hello, Sophia. I’m fine. I miss you.”

  “I miss you too, darling. Is your mother home?”

  “Yes, hold on.” She shouted, “Mummy, Sophia’s on the phone.” Returning to the speaker she said, “She’s coming. How is Gabriela?”

  “She’s okay. Planning our next trip,” Sophia chuckled. “She’s always plotting against me.”

  “Can I come with you? Can I?” Ariadne begged.

  “Sure, darling. Well, I mean, if your parents allow it.”

  Sophia heard Alice’s voice, “Let me talk to Sophia, Ari. Go finish your homework.”

  “Bye, Sophia. Don’t forget me.”

  “As if I could, dear.” Ariadne had won a special place in her heart. In truth, the whole family had.

  “Hello, Sophia. How are you?”

  “Hi, Alice. I’m fine. Thanks. How are you?”

  “I’m fine, dear. But I bet you’re better. There’s something different in your voice today. I’d say, uh, that you’re happier. Am I wrong?”

  Sophia’s laugh tinkled in her office. “No. You’re right. I’ll confide in you, since I need your help. But you have to give me your word that you’ll keep this a secret until I, uh, tell you that it’s not a secret anymore, all right?”

  “Oh! I love secrets!” Alice answered in a whisper.

  “Look, I haven’t decided yet because I haven’t talked to—Well, before I let know you know what I’m planning,” she said nervously, “I need to know if Gabriela can stay with you tonight?”

  Sophia heard Alice catch her breath on the other side of the line.

  “I don’t believe it,” she gushed. “You— Alistair— You decided to—”

  The whole idea so excited Sophia that she laughed huskily at Alice’s attempt to phrase her thoughts. “How do you know we haven’t already done it?”

  “Oh, come on, Sophia. I know my brother. In fact, I think everyone can feel his tension when you’re near him. You’ve been giving Alistair a hard time.”

  “It wasn’t my intention but I’m going to end his suffering.” She laughed again. “Alice…what do you think?”

  “Sophia, you’re the best thing that could’ve happened to Alistair. I’ve never seen him happier than he is now.”

  “But?”

  “I…I don’t know if I ought to say this, but he still carries a heavy burden. Heather—”

  “I’d prefer to hear the story from Alistair first, if you don’t mind.” Sophia cut Alice short. “I know he still feels a great pain about Heather and Nathalie and their deaths, but I also have a past. I think we can, at least, try to work it out together. I don’t know about Heather, but I’m certain Gabriel wouldn’t want me miserable. Plus, I like your brother as he is.”

  “In that case, dear, if he does accept your invitation, tell Maria to bring Gabriela over. Anytime you want. And she can spend the weekend with us. How’s that?”

  “Wow! Fantastic. Let me call Alistair.” She paused for a brief moment, uncertain. “Alice, do you think…would he prefer to take the lead?”

  “What man wouldn’t like a surprise like this? Be bold.” She laughed. “I like this hidden side of yours.”

  “Call you back in a few minutes.”

  Sophia tapped her nails lightly on her keyboard absently, trying to decide what to do, what to say, excited and aroused by the prospect of making love to Alistair.

  She picked up her phone and called him. At the first ring, he answered with his deep voice.

  “Sophia,” he breathed, “I’ve missed you.”

  His way of answering the phone always amused her. No words or time wasted.

  “I’ve missed you too. How was your trip?”

  “It could have been better. I’ve just arrived and I’m heading home. I’ve had enough for a whole year, and I’ll have to go back, probably next Tuesday.”

  His voice was so gruff she started to doubt if this was a good day to seduce him. “Listen, I thought that perhaps we could do something different today.”

  “Like what?”

  “Of course, if you’re up for it—”

  “I’m up for everything with you, Beauty,” he cut in. “Just tell me where it is and I’ll be there.”

  “I thought about a quiet evening. You like pasta. I cook a mean pasta with carciofi. We could drink some of the French wine I bought and had no one to share it with,” she babbled. “Perhaps, we could watch a film. At my place. I mean, if you like the idea.”

  “Sounds great. Better than anything I could think of.” His voice grew lighter. “Want me to pick you up or shall we meet at your house?”

  Talk about mercurial moods. Sophia exhaled the breath caught in her lungs. “If you can pick me up at six, that would be fantastic. Call me just before you arrive. I’ll wait for you in the hall.”

  “Perfect. Until six then.”

  Well, well, well. So far, so good.

  Sophia called Alice first to tell her about what she had arranged with Alistair. Then she spoke to Maria, informing her that Gabriela and she were going to spend the weekend with the Allenthorpes. And finally, Lucy, her housekeeper, giving some instructions for the evening.

  From that minute on, Sophia couldn’t concentrate on anything. She decided to transfer the criminal case under her review to Paul Evergreen, a brilliant lawyer working for her foundation. She talked with him for a few minutes explaining her strategy. Unfortunately, the client had killed her boyfriend, self-defense or not, with five shots. Evergreen could only try to alleviate the verdict.

  Perhaps, if the girl had gone to the authorities asking for help as soon as the guy started beating her, the crime wouldn’t have happened. But if is a word that life doesn’t consider. She shook her head, aggravated at the way women let themselves get involved in damaging relationships.

  Now Leibowitz’s problems. She touched the intercom, “Edward, could you please come here for a second?”

  “Yes, Sophia?” Edward entered he
r office and stopped dead in his tracks. He raised a finger, silencing her. “Don’t tell me. I already know.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Sophia, you are as transparent as glass.” He perched a muscular thigh on her desk. “You decided to give the big guy a chance, huh?”

  She laughed, nervously. “Yes, I think so. I planned a quiet evening at home. Pasta, soft music, and you know…”

  “Hot sex,” he grinned at her.

  “Edward!” she blushed.

  “I didn’t know that grown women still blushed.” His grin widened at her blush. “Let me give you some advice.”

  At a quarter to six, Sophia stood naked in her office bathroom drying off from the shower. Trying to get herself somewhat ready for the evening, she regretted arranging for Alistair to pick her up at the office, instead of meeting at her house.

  Wearing the same clothes. Way to go, Sophia!

  She did her best. She put on a few drops of her favorite perfume, brushed her teeth, and styled her hair. She put on the heavy silk ivory blouse and long, loose caramel silk skirt. A varnished brown belt clung to her small waist and varnished brown peep-toe pumps covered her feet.

  When she exited the bathroom, she found Edward waiting for her. He leaned on her bookshelf with an open book in his hand. He closed the book and whistled. “He won’t be able to resist. Don’t worry.”

  “That’s not what’s worrying me.” She laughed nervously.

  “Hey, love. There’s no need for this. Don’t try to impress him. Just be yourself. You’ve already caught him. I’m sure he isn’t expecting any more than you’re willing to give. Got it?”

  “Thanks.” She rose on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re the best friend a woman could possibly have.”

  “I’m glad you’ve met someone worthy of you. And you know what they say about number three, don’t you?”

  She looked at him, puzzled.

  “It’s the charm, love. Number three is the lucky one.” He swatted her butt. “Go. Enjoy your night. I’ll want a full and detailed report on Monday.”

  She blushed and he laughed.

  She threw her Louis Vuitton monogram bag on her shoulder, picked up her redingote, and exited the office. While heading to the lifts, she looked at her iPhone.

  Two calls from Alistair! She sprinted through the corridor, and inside her private lift, tapping her shoe while waiting for the lift to go down, looking at her Cosmograph Daytona Rolex. Damn! I hate being late.

  As soon as the door opened on the ground floor, she ran to the sliding doors, almost slamming into them.

  Alistair stood waiting for her next to his Range Rover. A lock of his hair, still damp from a recent shower, fell across his eyes. He looked absolutely incredible with a six-button, double-breasted gray cardigan with its collar up. He had tied a long black-and-white scarf around his neck, Ascot style. His dark-gray jeans hugged his long legs and made her mouth water.

  When he saw her running, he grinned widely and scooped her up by the waist, lifting her and lightly kissing her. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

  “I’m late. Sorry.”

  “You’re worth the wait. You smell good.” He nuzzled her neck with his nose. “So, are you going to cook for me tonight?”

  “Are you hungry?” she asked, her lips near his.

  “Famished,” he said, with a sensual innuendo in his voice and pulled her into his embrace for a deeper kiss, before opening the door for her.

  Chapter 14

  Atwood House

  6:55 p.m.

  When they neared her house, Sophia touched an application on her iPhone and a remote control appeared on the screen.

  Bright lights illuminated an enormous white house with imposing Roman columns behind tall black-and-golden iron gates.

  Sophia turned to look at him, “This is the main entrance.”

  His disbelief was imprinted on his face for a second before he schooled his features into his poker-faced look. “But you don’t live here!”

  “I do,” came the simple reply.

  “This isn’t where I’ve been picking you up.” Have you been lying, Sophia?

  “The renovations weren’t finished so I used the garden gates.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me before?” he asked, his expression impenetrable.

  “I wanted to show you the house after it was done.” She tilted her head, looking at his face. “And I’m telling you now. Does it make any difference?”

  “Nae. Nae, I guess no’.” The inscrutable look vanished from his face as quickly as it came and a smile appeared.

  “Park inside, there’s room in the garage.” She touched a green button and the gates opened swiftly and smoothly. “You’re my first guest,” she beamed at him.

  They passed a cabin and Sophia waved to the men inside. As Alistair looked pointedly at her, she shrugged and answered, “Security.”

  Suddenly, his brows rose. “I knew I’d seen these gardens before! I’ve been here once at a party with Heather. The gardens are truly incredible.”

  “Only the gardens?” she teased, as she touched another button to turn on the lights in the house. “Turn right and go down the ramp.” She opened the gates and he parked in a spacious garage beside a silver Mercedes SLR McLaren Roadster 722s and a black-amethyst XJ Jaguar LWB Ultimate.

  “I’ve never been inside the house before,” he answered. He grinned as she touched another button on her iPhone. “Is it voice activated as well?”

  “Actually, it is, but I prefer to use it manually. I love these little facilities. The house is intelligent. I’ve already turned on the lights and the heating.” She chuckled, “I remodeled everything.”

  He knocked on the windshield of the Jaguar as he passed it and paused, frowning. “Bulletproof?”

  “Yeah, even the glass partition and the sunroof. I’m kind of paranoid about safety,” she explained. Staring into his green eyes, she asked softly, “Wouldn’t you be, too?”

  “I guess,” he concurred. “Wonderful cars you have here.”

  “I told you I liked to drive,” she smiled.

  “I can tell,” he said smiling. “Show me your home.”

  “On the lower ground, there’s the garage, a cellar, and…here,” she pushed at tall door, motioning him inside, a pool lounge with reclining chairs with white padded mattresses and two square tables for eight. Everything readied for guests, towels in woven baskets skillfully distributed around the room and a wet bar. “Gabriela’s playground.”

  His deep laughter echoed in the enormous room, which also had a complete gym. “I’m sure Gabriela runs on the treadmill, lifts weights, and uses the steamer. And, naturally, she needs a semi-Olympic pool to play in.”

  “Okay, guilty. It’s my playground too.” She turned off the lights. “Stairs or lift?”

  He raised his eyebrow. “Lift?”

  “Try carrying a sleeping Gabriela two flights of stai—” she screamed when he picked her up in his arms and started for the stairs.

  He smiled wickedly at her. “I don’t think it’s a problem, do you, Sophia?”

  “You’re crazy, did you know that?” She laughed, clinging to his neck.

  “I’m crazy about you.” They reached the top of the stairs. “Where next?”

  She wiggled her legs. “Put me down.”

  “I like you where you are,” he retorted, his eyes sparkling. “Right or left?”

  “Right, if you want to see the reception rooms first, left, for the gardens and the office.” He turned right. She seized the moment to nibble at his earlobe, running her nails lightly on his nape.

  Fuck. He felt a thrill run down his spine. “Stop that or I’ll drop you.”

  “I doubt it,” she laughed, doing it again, this time rimming his ear with her tongue.

  He put her down, backed her against the corridor wall, towering over her. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

  “Sorry.” She kissed him lightly,
smiling inside. If only you knew…

  “Don’t test my self-control, Sophia. I can’t be patient forever.” His hand grabbed hers, and turning it palm up, he placed a kiss on the inside of her wrist, his gaze burrowing into hers. “Show me the rest.”

  She led him down the corridor, opening the door to the hallway. “The hall is more remarkable when seen from the front door; it makes a great first impression. I love its height. It’s almost thirty feet.” She made a face. “It was carpeted. Can you imagine how awful that looked?”

  The black-and-white marble flooring had been arranged in a repeating geometric pattern. In the middle of the hall, a huge Baccarat vase with fresh flowers commanded attention from its place on a round Chippendale table, glittering under an impressive Napoleon III Baccarat chandelier.

  “It’s stunning,” he said.

  She looked around as if seeing it through his eyes, then went to her right, opening walnut double doors. “This is the reception room.”

  He entered a breathtaking room of three thousand-square feet with floor-to-ceiling windows on one side, which would allow natural light to stream into every corner. A black grand piano stood at the far end. The walls were lined with dark-green damask silk, accented with exquisite contemporary paintings. The sofas and armchairs were done in white-and-green silk damask, with colored pillows scattered over them, bringing Sophia’s peculiar and warm touch into the room. Against one of the walls stood one of the remarkable Cucci cabinets, originally made for Louis XIV.

  “Magnificent.” In front of a Picasso, he said, “Truly. I wasn’t expecting this. Your apartment was much simpler. You did this all by yourself?”

  “No, everyone helped.” She rearranged the pillows, pursing her lips and eyeing them before being content with her arrangement. “I chose the fabrics in Venice. Victoria and I picked some of the furniture in Paris. Valentina helped me choose the colors and had some brilliant ideas for the lighting and the kitchen. Felipe and Carolina did the architectural part. My siblings and I, we’re a team. I also had an English architect help organize the work and buy the basic materials. I brought some of the paintings I had in my apartment in Rio and bought some others. Felipe made an album for me: Atwood House, before and after Sophia.”