by Robin Cain
When they arrived at the restaurant, two eager uniformed valet attendants descended upon the car and ushered Frank and Sadie out and onto the portico. One of them handed Frank a claim check, slipped behind the wheel of the immaculate black Mercedes S600 and drove off, outwardly indifferent to the fine automobile now in his care.
Sadie and Frank leisurely climbed the wide, majestic stone stairs lined with hundreds of twinkling, tiny white lights and arrived at the entrance showcased by enormous candlelit sconces. Another pair of uniformed attendants held the massive wooden doors open and welcomed them in. Soaring ceilings and aged stone walls adorned with elaborate tapestry wall hangings reflected the hundreds of thousands of dollars spent to achieve the centuries-old castle look. Awed by the splendor of the room, neither of them spoke. The maître-d, allowing the first impression of the room to work its magic, waited a few seconds before greeting his guests.
“Good evening, Mr. Campelletti,” he offered with a slight bow of his head. “Your table is waiting.” He graciously gestured for them to follow as he turned and led the way. Sadie, once again reminded of Frank’s homegrown celebrity status, could only guess how difficult it must have been to get a last-minute reservation on a Friday night.
They walked down a wide stone hallway flanked with rooms, each with its own large arched entry. Finally, upon seeing the private dining rooms she had heard so much about, Sadie’s excitement began to build. When they reached the end of the hallway, they were led into the last room of the series. With lighting provided by a fireplace and a handful of large silver candelabras, their room contained one single dining table elegantly set for two.
A delicate arrangement of multicolored roses suspended in a shimmering pink liquid-filled glass container sat between two place settings of delicately patterned, pale blue china. Champagne flutes stood waiting for the bottle of Cristal chilling tableside in sterling silver. Frank nodded to the maitre-d in appreciation of a job well done. Everything was just as he had requested.
They settled into their chairs and listened while the sommelier introduced himself. When he began to open the bottle of champagne, Sadie noted the grace with which he moved and the skill with which he popped the cork. Finished pouring the champagne, he wrapped its neck in the white cloth and placed it back tableside. He gracefully bowed and excused himself, closing the doors behind him and leaving Frank and Sadie in complete privacy.
Now alone with each other, Frank reached for his glass of champagne.
“A toast?”
Sadie extended her glass toward his, noting its long, delicate crystal stem.
“To a past that’s over,” he began. “And to what feels like a beautiful new beginning.” The glint of candlelight reflected in his eyes and the tender sincerity of his words caused something to stir deep within her. She sipped the champagne and allowed its delicate bubbles to linger a bit, choosing for the moment to let things remain perfect, to let nothing spoil her joy.
“Sadie, I’m so sorry about what happened the other day. I owe you an explanation and I want to clear the air right here and now.” He leaned closer and reached for her hand. “Seeing you again tonight, how beautiful you look and how you’ve not once mentioned what happened—well, I know now how truly awful I’ve acted. I shouldn’t have stayed and let you leave that day. Citra caught me off guard. I wasn’t thinking clearly...”
“Frank,” she interrupted, slowly easing her hand away. “Just, please, tell me who she is to you. Tell me where she fits in. More importantly, just tell me where I fit in.”
She allowed time to let her words sink in. To her, it was as simple as what she’d just said. There was no need for a long monologue of an explanation. She simply wanted the truth before going any further with him. She’d gotten too far with Billy Harwood before she had realized his lines read like a cue card. She had been far too infatuated, far too naïve about the ugliness that made the man. And she wasn’t going to fall for something like that again. The efforts to heal were a hard lesson.
There was a slight shift of his weight in the chair before Frank spoke.
“Citra and I have been seeing each other on and off for months now. She’s worked for me for years. We have a history, a familiarity with each other. I can’t help the way she acted in the diner the other day.”
“I just need to know who she is to you, who she is to you now.” She didn’t think she could be any clearer. “What you did, what you had, well, it doesn’t matter to me. Today, tonight, right now—I just need to know where I stand in this picture. I don’t want to unknowingly put myself in the middle of something, which is exactly where I felt I was in the diner.”
“Sadie...”
“No, wait. Let me finish. If you’re involved in something with her, that’s fine. I don’t need details or any explanations. It’s just that, other than a few phone calls I’ve overheard, you’ve never mentioned her name. And, from what I’ve seen, she seems to be a pretty significant person in your life. Here we are—and have been—and I’m thinking we’re getting involved.” She took a sip of her champagne before continuing.
“My point is that you’d better stop me now if I’m not alone with you on this road.”
At that precise moment, as if scripted, the door swung open and their waiter appeared. A look of relief crossed Frank’s face.
“Excuse me, madame.” The waiter handed Sadie the heavy, leather-bound menu. He turned to Frank and offered the same, along with a much heavier wine list. He began to speak eloquently and effusively about what he felt were the evening’s brilliant additions to the already superb menu. Unable to concentrate on what the waiter was saying, Sadie feigned interest, her mind still on the subject of Citra and Billy and never making the same mistakes twice.
With no questions to answer, the waiter once again glided quietly out of the room. Sadie laid her menu across her place setting, leaned back in her chair and looked Frank directly in the eye.
“Do you understand why I need an answer, Frank? More importantly, do you understand that I am not demanding you make a choice?” She needed to hear him say something—anything—to convince her she wasn’t being fooled again.
“Yes, I understand,” he told her, running his hand exasperatedly through his hair. “What happened the other day, as well as my actions, weren’t fair to you. Citra is my past. She wasn’t aware that I had begun seeing you. Though we’d talked about not seeing each other anymore, I guess she didn’t realize I actually meant it. I think she was just clinging to hope.”
“Does she have a reason to hope?”
Once again, Frank shifted his weight in his chair. Just how much damage would the truth cause if he had the courage to speak of it now?
“I don’t believe that she does anymore,” Frank said, once again reaching for her hand. “I am seeing that what we have is pretty amazing and I don’t want to lose you.”
Frank’s words and the gentleness with which he spoke them brought Sadie a familiar feeling of comfort and warmth she had not expected. It had been a long time since anyone had seemed to care this much for her and she was beginning to feel deeply for him, as well. She now realized how much she wanted this relationship to work.
“I don’t want to lose you either.”
Frank leaned over and gently kissed her. She couldn’t help but let it chase away her doubts and uncertainty—at least for now. She was being silly, comparing this wonderful man in front of her to the horror of a man in her past, she told herself. She just needed to relax—and trust.
She changed the subject and it never came up again during dinner.
By the time after-dinner coffee was served, hours had passed and neither of them wanted to see the evening end. Sadie felt Frank was charming, kind and attentive; Frank felt Sadie had some special something of which he wanted to be a part. The memory of the scene with Citra in the diner slowly receded to the backs of both their minds. Finished with coffee and aching to be in each other’s arms, they left their private dining room and heade
d back down the grand hallway.
Sadie spotted him at the entrance, standing tall in the center of his entourage. They surrounded him like an impenetrable wall. Billy Harwood—his stardom and charisma radiated outwards in a nearly visible glow. Sadie stopped moving the instant their eyes met.
His hand on the small of her back, Frank felt Sadie’s posture suddenly stiffen. Tracing her stare to determine the cause, he knew he’d seen the face before, but no particular name came to mind.
Movie star?
Frank noted Billy’s superior height; his sun-streaked, blond, perfectly tousled hair; the requisite amount of trendy stubble on what even he recognized to be an abnormally handsome face; and the inappropriately casual, trendy sportswear he wore.
None of that particularly remarkable, it was the guy’s eyes as he focused on Sadie that made Frank uncomfortable. There was instant recognition and a sly, seductive smile that slowly spread across Billy’s face when he addressed Sadie.
“Well, well... Miss Sadie, what a surprise.”
Frank felt Sadie back into him as if trying to get away, but she stood mute.
“What? No greeting for an old friend?” Billy stepped out from inside his crowd to approach her.
“Hi.” Sadie’s response was barely audible.
Billy reached out to give her a hug, but Sadie backed away even further. Unsure of what to make of Sadie’s sudden discomfort, Frank extended his hand.
“Hi, I’m Frank Campelletti.”
In what onlookers would have considered typical bad-boy Hollywood behavior, Billy ignored him and leaned in to take Sadie in his arms. He wrapped her in a bear hug, which temporarily prevented her from moving. When he leaned down and whispered something in her ear, Sadie turned and struggled to get away. Billy’s loud, cocky laugh filled the room as he let her go. She turned and escaped from the crowd, leaving Frank, Billy and the entourage to stare.
Billy chuckled and addressed Frank, “Hey man, sorry. She’s just not over me, I guess,” Billy’s smile resembled the devil as he arrogantly shrugged.
Frank cursed in disgust under his breath and followed Sadie’s hasty retreat outside. He found her standing at the valet station. Her hands were visibly shaking.
“Hey, what was that about?”
“Please. Let’s just go. I don’t want to talk about it right now.” She turned away and wrapped her arms around herself.
“Who was that?” Frank asked, still unable to recall the guy’s name.
“Harwood. Billy Harwood.”
The face and name finally connected for Frank. “How do you know him?”
“Please. Let’s just go, okay?” Sadie looked like she was about to cry and Frank sensed it wasn’t the time to ask questions. He summoned the valet attendants and, in silence, stood with his arm around her, waiting for his car.
It wasn’t until much later, back at Sadie’s house, that Frank got the truth from her. And now he wanted to kill the guy. “That asshole hit you?”
Sadie weakly nodded her head.
“What, if you don’t mind my asking, set him off?” Frank hated the thought of any man hitting a woman. It was inexcusable. He would have killed the fucker if he’d known it earlier.
“Lots of reasons I’ve come to understand since then.” Sadie wasn’t prepared to share the entire truth. “It all culminated in one day. He hadn’t gotten some role he wanted in a movie; he hated that I wasn’t his beck-and-call girl—I don’t know. He was an insecure, spoiled man with an ego the size of Miami. I guess I didn’t take his disappointment seriously enough or something because he just went off on me. When I told him I wanted to end it, he really snapped and came after me. He hit me so hard I fell to the ground. But he must not have felt too bad because, when he was done, he just walked away and left me lying there.”
“Then what?” Frank was seething and Sadie had never seen that side of him.
“I got up and never looked back.”
“So that was it? You didn’t call the police or press charges or anything?” Frank asked, incredulous now with what he was hearing.
“No, I didn’t want the publicity. And yes, that was it. His assistant has tried to track me down a couple times for him. I think Billy felt it was beneath him to apologize or beg. His pride was part of his ‘image’ and his quest for fame and fortune too great. I heard he’s telling everyone he dumped me for some up-and-coming, twenty-one-year-old starlet.”
“Wow, what a prick. I don’t give a shit who he is. He shouldn’t get away with that.”
“Yes, he’s a prick alright and an angry, dangerous one at that. Now, let’s move on, okay? That’s yesterday’s news. Weren’t you just saying something earlier about ‘a past that is over?’” She walked over and kissed Frank gently on the lips in an effort to chase the thought of Billy Harwood from both their minds. The subject would come up again but that evening, over a blanket of scattered crimson-colored rose petals, a partnership and bond was silently pledged.
five
BY LATE MONDAY afternoon, Sadie was truly exhausted. Hours spent with Frank, along with trying to maintain her real estate practice, were taking its toll on her. She had been at her desk catching up on paperwork since early that morning. Her body was not accustomed to this life. Her stomach was growling and her head was pounding, but Frank was tied up in a meeting so the evening was all hers. Sadie was packing up her briefcase when her assistant, Cynthia, buzzed her.
“Sadie? There is someone—a gentleman friend of yours he says— here to see you.”
“Who is it? I was just going to head out of here as well.”
“He asked me to let it be a surprise. He says you’ll be pleased to see him.” There was giddiness in Cynthia’s voice.
Sadie sighed, “Okay, tell him I’ll be there in a minute.” It was unlike Frank to show up unexpectedly, and she hadn’t scheduled any clients at this hour. Regardless of whoever was there, she made up her mind she was leaving. She stuffed the remainder of her papers in her briefcase and headed out to the lobby.
“Well, hello, Miss Sadie.” The long tentacles of evil reached out for her once again.
The sight of Billy Harwood made the hair on Sadie’s neck stand up. As the color drained from her face, she thought she might faint.
“What are you doing here?” she managed to ask.
“Happy to see me, baby?” Billy’s trademark smirk slithered across his suntanned face.
“This is not a good time, Billy.” Not wanting to make a scene, Sadie tried as best she could to keep the anger out of her voice. “I was just leaving.” Sadie made no introductions and Cynthia’s grin collapsed when Billy turned away, not giving her a second glance. Billy hurried to keep step with Sadie’s rapid escape out the front door.
Once they had left the building, Cynthia quickly picked up the phone to dial her best friend. Turning her back to the entrance so Sadie wouldn’t see, she picked up the phone. Cynthia hollered the moment her friend answered. “Billy Harwood! I’ve just met Billy Harwood!”
Sadie saw Billy’s idling, long black chauffeured limousine outside. She spun around on her two-and-a-half-inch heels and got right up into Billy’s face.
“How dare you just show up here out of the blue and expect me to talk to you!” She practically spit the words at him. “When does hitting a woman ever, ever, give you the right to expect civility in return? I should call the cops on you.”
“Sadie, Sadie, why so hostile? That’s water under the bridge. You know I never meant it, baby. You know I was upset and crazed about that role I lost. C’mon, you have to understand why I snapped. Besides, you weren’t being very supportive...”
“What the hell are you talking about? Oh, Billy, you are even crazier and more self-absorbed than I ever dreamed.” Sadie began to walk away, to let him know she wished him gone. Billy grabbed for her arm but caught the edge of her jacket in his haste and threw Sadie off-balance as she stepped from the curb. She caught the hem of her skirt on the bumper of a parked car, fell and
scrapped her knee. Her briefcase fell open and scattered her papers in all directions.
“Damn it, Billy! You are nothing but trouble. Leave me alone now.” Sadie touched her now bloodied knee and winced in pain.
“You are so clumsy,” Billy snickered. “Here, let me help you to your car.”
“Enough is enough. I don’t know why you’re here or why you came, but I want nothing to do with you. Don’t you get it?” Sadie tried to pull away from him but he had a hold of her arm now. His grip reminded her of times past.
“When we saw each other in the restaurant, Sadie, I realized I never called you. I’ve been so busy—you probably know that —and I’m just now getting back into town,” he said. “I can make time for you again.” He flashed a million-dollar smile in an attempt to convince her of his sincerity. “I’m back for you, baby.”
“Just for the record, Billy, I left you. Go find someone who likes to be hit. I’m definitely not your type.”
“Hey, you used to like what Billy gave you.” The reference to himself in the third person sent chills down her spine. “You’re being given a second chance, baby. Come back and take another ride. You know you’ve missed it.”
She managed to pull her arm from his grip and start back toward the door of the building, leaving her things scattered on the ground. Having someone else around right now seemed more important at the moment. His driver was obviously being paid to look the other way. Billy caught up in one step, grabbing her again.
“Not a chance in hell, Billy Harwood. You are one sick man and I want nothing to do with you. Keep it up and I’ll make sure the world knows what a loser you really are.” She had never wanted to bring his abuse of her to light but he was pushing too far now.
The words were no sooner out of her mouth when the look in his eyes confirmed that they had found a tender spot. He wasted no time in grabbing her by the throat.
“Well, you snotty little bitch. You think you’re better than me now? You? A tight-assed little Realtor? Let me tell you something; I came back as a favor to you. Figured you’d like one last shot at riding my star to the top. But, guess what? Now that I see you again, I know there’s no one who’d be a bigger sympathy fuck than you!” His angry spittle flew into her face as he annunciated the last few words. His fingers bit into the tender skin of her neck.