Greater Than Rubies, a Novella inspired by the Jewel Trilogy

by Hallee A. Bridgeman

  “You know what I want, Robin.” Tony said.

  “Tony, I can’t,” She whispered.

  Tony stared at her, his jaw set. “You named your price and I paid it. You know what I want.”

  “Tony,” she begged. “Tony, no.”

  “I always get what I want.”

  Robin clawed her way out of the nightmare, bolting into a sitting position on the bed. Her whole body quaked in the aftermath. Her hands trembled and her breath came in quick shaky gasps. Sweat poured over her body, and she lifted the damp tendrils of her bangs to wipe her forehead.

  She drew her legs up and rested her forehead against her knees. Her breathing slowly returned to normal. Her hands slowly stopped shaking, and the sweat cooled on her body. She stayed where she sat, waiting for the effects of the dream to fade away. She didn’t want to carry the cobwebs of the nightmare out of the room with her and in to the presence of her sisters.

  Greater Than Rubies: CHAPTER 11

  OBIN clutched the bag in her hand a little tighter as the elevator came to a stop. She stepped out into the lobby of Tony’s executive offices. The receptionist was speaking into her headset, so she just lifted her hand in a greeting and walked to Tony’s office.

  Her stomach twisted itself into painful knots, and she could barely breathe. As she got closer to the double doors leading to his outer office, she felt like they lay suddenly farther away. A cold sweat broke out on her upper lip.

  She’d dressed carefully this morning, choosing a long navy blue pencil skirt and gray cashmere sweater. Now she wished she’d worn something cooler, or maybe layers so she could shed some heat. Thankfully, she’d thought to pin her hair up, so at least that wasn’t suffocating her.

  She noticed the tremble in her hand as she opened the door and stepped into Margaret’s office.

  Margaret stood as Robin entered.” Hello, Robin. Mr. Viscolli will be happy to see you,” she said, moving around her desk to open the large door leading to Tony’s inner sanctuary.

  Not for long, she thought, but merely smiled and put a shaking hand to her stomach.

  Tony stood next to his desk, sorting papers. His suit jacket was draped on the chair behind him. He wore a white shirt with a blue and black striped tie. When he looked up, he had a distracted frown on his face, but when his eyes met Robin’s, his features immediately relaxed and he smiled.

  “Cara mia,” he said, setting the stack of papers down and coming around his desk. “What an unexpected pleasure. Nothing could have surprised or pleased me more.”

  Robin did not hear Margaret shut the door behind her. Her heart started pounding and nausea churned in her gut. As Tony walked forward, she had to resist the urge to step backward. When he was just a few feet away from her, he did not step any closer, nor did he reach out to her.

  “What happened?” he asked, his eyes searching her face.

  Robin gripped the twine handle of the bag so tightly that she was surprised it didn’t cut her skin. “Can we sit?” She gestured at the leather sofa.

  “Yes. Of course. Are you ill? What’s wrong?” Tony put a hand on her elbow as they moved to the sitting area. Robin fought the urge to lean into him and let him make everything okay. When she was with him, it seemed like it would definitely always be okay. But in her heart, she knew that was a false sense of security.

  He sat on the couch, and she perched on the edge of the couch, turning her body toward him. With a shaking hand, she wiped the sweat off of her lip. “I –” Her breath hiccupped, but she forced forward and refused to give in to tears. If she cried, he would put his arms around her, and she would lose all strength to go forward with this.

  He reached for her hand, sandwiching it between both of his. “Your hands are freezing,” he said, concerned.

  “Tony,” she whispered, “I can’t marry you.”

  She kept eye contact, despite a desire to look away. She watched the emotions play across his face, watched as concern mixed with confusion and a little bit of panic. “I don’t understand. What are you saying?”

  “I’ve been so stressed about it. I can’t be Mrs. Viscolli. I can’t do the cars and the trips and the jewelry. I can’t plan a wedding that has a governor and three senators attending. I can’t be that person. It’s not me. I’m just a bartender who didn’t even graduate from high school.” She could hear the frantic tone of her own voice. “That reporter, he knew the truth about me. Everyone will know the truth about who I really am.”

  Understanding replaced the panic in his eyes. “Robin, if we go into this together, we can do or be anything. They are just people, just names. God loves them equally to the beggar on the street.”

  “They expect a certain class, certain knowledge and understanding. I don’t have that. Your world has rules and expectations I don’t even know about. I can’t – “

  “I love you. God made me for you and you for me. Nothing else should matter.”

  Swallowing the tears that burned the back of her eyes she said, “I love you, too. Passionately and forever. But that doesn’t fix it. I know I will be inadequate as your wife. You deserve someone better suited to that role. You deserve the best.”

  He lifted her hands and pressed a kiss against her wrist. She knew he could feel the skittering of her pulse. “You are one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. You can learn, just like I learned, how to maneuver through certain crowds, how to handle yourself.”

  “I don’t want to learn,” she said, barely above a whisper.

  He released her hand and framed her face, tiling her head toward his and searching her eyes. “What else? Something else. What is it?”

  Panic crowded her brain, cutting off her breathing, taking away her ability to think straight. Heart pounding, she pushed his hands away and stood, rubbing her palms on her hips. “I don’t – ”

  Tony stood with her. Despite the heels on her boots, he felt taller than her. “Spiegare,” he said, anger seeping into his voice. “Don’t just flip some excuse at me and expect me to fall for it. You explain. Whatever it is, I can fix it. We can fix it. You must tell me what it is.”

  Wrapping her arms around herself, she cleared her throat. “I had a bridal shower last night.”

  Tony gave a barely imperceptible nod. “I know.”

  “I got this set of –” Robin waved her hand in the air. “– wedding night … things. Silk, lace.”

  He slipped his hands into his pockets, but she saw him ball them into fists. “Go on.”

  “It suddenly occurred to me what marrying you would mean. I mean, it’s not like I didn’t intellectually know before. But it never really hit me before.”

  “What it would mean?” He frowned. “You mean sex?”

  “The thought –” Defeated, she slumped down into a chair, gripping her hands in her lap. “My mom had some boyfriends who – “

  Tony knelt at her feet and put his hands on top of hers. “You told me that before, remember?”

  “I hinted, I know. But I haven’t told you. I haven’t told you about the horror, the pain, the disgusting –” she swallowed, trying to keep from getting sick. “The humiliation. You can’t know what it was like. Not being strong enough, not being smart enough. Just enduring.”

  She ripped her hands away from his and pushed to her feet. The bag sat on the table in front of the couch. “I can’t marry you. I can’t be some billionaire’s wife, and I can’t be who you need me to be in the bedroom. Marrying me, despite how much I long to be yours forever, would be horribly unfair for you.” She pointed at the bag. “That has the jewels you’ve given me, the sapphire necklace and the ruby heart. It also has the car keys in it.” Slipping off her sapphire engagement ring, she set it on the table next to the bag. “I wish I were different. I wish I could wipe my memory like Sarah and just not remember anything. But, I can’t. I’m not going to tie you to me. You deserve so much better than a broken bride.”

  He hadn’t moved from his spot on the floor next to the chair. He did not rea
ch out to her nor try to stop her as she walked across the office and out the door. No tears fell as she waved good-bye to Margaret.

  The ride down the elevator took just as long as the ride up but felt like decades. She halfway expected security to meet her at the bottom and escort her back to Tony’s office, but she reached the lobby without incident and walked through, not even seeing the people whom she knew who greeted her.

  She held the tears in check until she found herself seated in the subway and, as the train pulled away, the first sob nearly ripped her in two.

  ONY felt trapped. He didn’t know how long he knelt next to that chair. He didn’t know how long it took for him to start breathing again, for the fist that clutched his chest so painfully to release its grip long enough to let him inhale and exhale.

  He leaned forward and rested his forehead against the chair. He intended to pray, but no words came. Instead, he closed his eyes and just tried to stop the onrush of maddening thoughts – tried to still his racing mind.

  How could he fix this? What could he do? He couldn’t go back in time. The man who raped her was already dead. There was no closure there. He couldn’t change that situation. How to fix this?

  Powerless. Helpless. Impotent.

  After an endless time of being unable to even talk to God, he shakily stood to his feet. Feeling like he was suffocating, he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. He paced to his window that overlooked Boston’s business district. All the power and influence that money could buy lay at his fingertips, and everything he’d worked for and accumulated for so long, laying one brick atop another day after day, was the wall that separated him from his happiness. His wealth and her past conspired to keep Robin from wanting to be with him.

  A swift knock on his door interrupted his thoughts simultaneously with the sound of his intercom buzzing. Impatient, resentful at the intrusion, he turned around as Barry Anderson and Abram Rabinovich entered his office.

  He rubbed his eyes with one hand then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not now,” he said.

  “Ah, but we have an appointment,” Abram said, smiling around his bearded face. “We are meeting for lunch to discuss building a new playground at the low income daycare.”

  “Just build it. Build whatever you want,” he said, turning back to look out the window. Through gritted teeth he murmured, “Send me the bill.”

  “Hey. What’s wrong?” Barry asked, setting his briefcase on the chair in front of Tony’s desk. “What happened?”

  Tony shoved his hands into his pockets. “My beloved fiancée has just called off our wedding a mere two weeks before the happy day,” he said, strangling around the words.

  “What?” Abram put a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Did something happen?”

  Tony gave a harsh laugh. “Yeah, I’m worth a fortune. And I’m a man. Apparently, those two things are working against me.”

  Barry slapped a hand on his other shoulder almost knocking Tony off balance and squeezed. They stayed like that for a while and Barry asked, “How do you feel about it?”

  Tony reached up and squeezed the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes tight. With a deep breath, he said, “I feel like a failure. A complete failure.”

  Barry said, “Let’s talk it out, brother. Listen, it’s possible she did you a favor. Better to know now than when it’s too late, right?” Tony whipped his head around and glared at Barry. But the giant did not even flinch. “Come on, Tony. Don’t look at me like you have no idea what I’m talking about. You’re my best friend, so you never bring it up, but you know.”

  Abram put his arm all the way over Tony’s shoulder, subtly yet not so subtly knocking Barry’s hand off. “My friend, I know you’re a prayerful person and Robin has been the center of your prayer life for many months, now. If the Holy Spirit is commanding you and directing you to make her your wife, who are you to ignore those commands?”

  “I’m not the one ignoring anything. She came to me. She said she couldn’t be Mrs. Viscolli. She said she couldn’t interact with the people in my circles, that they’d see through to her background and she’d never measure up.”

  Abram nodded. “She likely has a point. Imagine how intimidating all this is to her. You’re asking her to sacrifice everything she knows – her entire life. She has to change everything from her address to her name. Marriage is supposed to mirror our relationship with Christ.” He led Tony across the large expanse of the room to the couch and guided him to sit down. “When I became a believer, I was disowned by my family. My father can barely even look at me, and to this day, I have a sister who refuses to acknowledge that I exist. And I lost everything. Everything. But, for Christ, I gave it all up.”

  Abram stopped speaking and just stared passively into Tony’s eyes, as if waiting for Tony to say something, except Tony had no idea what to say. He didn’t want to be rude and ask his mentor, “What’s your point?” So he just nodded.

  Abram shook his head, knowing that Tony had missed the point. “Tony, what is God calling you to sacrifice?”

  Tony considered that. His default was to try to figure out what he should do, not what he should let go. What had he sacrificed? Had he sacrificed anything since he had met Robin? What was he willing to sacrifice to show her that he knew they belonged together? In the middle of his thoughts, his intercom buzzed. “Mr. Viscolli, Miss Maxine Bartlett is on the phone for you. You said to interrupt if she called today.”

  He cleared his throat before answering. “Si. Grazie.” He pushed off of the couch and crossed over to his desk. “Maxi. Hello.”

  “Tony,” she said in a rush, “I’m so sorry to bother you. I just met with the contractor at my new place, and I was hoping I could come by and show you what he showed me. I want to make sure it’s all on the up and up.”

  His mind rejected the idea of helping Maxine, but he had committed to her that he would help her in any way. She obviously did not know Robin’s plans that morning, or she surely would not have even called him. Perhaps he could glean some insight into Robin’s change of heart if he had a chance to talk with Maxine. “Please, come by,” he said.

  Tony buttoned his top button and straightened his tie. He held out his hand to Abram. “My brother, thank you. Your wisdom is a blessing to me.”

  “Call me if you need me.”

  Tony took a deep breath and released it. “Maybe ask Sofia – if she felt it was appropriate – for her to intervene on my behalf?”

  “I will be happy to ask.” Abram assured.

  “Thank you.”

  He hugged Barry. “Thank you for your honesty.”

  Barry picked up his briefcase. “You know where to find me if you want to talk more. I’ll be praying for you, brother.”

  AXINE juggled a rolled up set of plans and a notebook as she entered Tony’s office. He met her at the door and gestured at the conference table “I know you’re busy. Are you sure you don’t mind me barging in like this?” She placed the paperwork on top of the table and turned and looked him in the face. Red rimmed eyes stared at the door behind her. “Wait. What’s wrong?”

  Tony took a step backward. “I – ”

  The look of panic gave away more than his lack of warmth and lack of greeting combined. “No. Something’s wrong. What’s wrong?”

  Tony rubbed the back of his neck. “Robin –” His voice hitched.

  “Robin what?” Nervous, panicked butterflies leapt to life in her stomach.

  “She broke off the engagement this morning.”

  Shocked, Maxine felt her mouth drop open. She felt her spine straighten and she asked, “What did she say?”

  Tony’s face hardened so that his eyes conveyed absolutely no emotion. It surprised her when she looked at him in that moment. She barely recognized him. He raised an eyebrow. “She tried to play it off that it’s about the money –” he said, but Maxine interrupted him.

  “Actually, that’s been a big deal for her this entire time. She’s seriously str
uggling with it.”

  For a moment, his mask slipped and she could see the pain in his eyes before he snapped it back into place. “Right,” he said, clearing his throat, “and she’s scared about our wedding night.”

  “Your wedding night?”

  His cheeks tinged pink and he rocked on his heels. “Sex,” he said in a low voice.

  Memories assaulted her, making her involuntarily flinch and back up a step. She ended up with her back against the wall. Tony stepped forward, hand up, as if to help her, but she put up her own hand. “No, don’t touch me,” she said, putting a hand on her heart. “Just give me a second.”

  “Maxi,” Tony said, stepping a little closer to her than she could stand. The desolation in his voice, the unshed tears in his eyes, almost made her want to hug him and comfort him. “Help me to help her.”

  “I don’t know if you can,” she said, emotions swirling, requiring pencil and paper or paint for their release. She struggled with what – with how much – to say. “I don’t know if he was the first, but as far as I know, he was the last. And, she fought him every single time. She never made it easy for him, and he’d punch her or hurt her until she was subdued and he could –” She put her hands on her cheeks. “– for months and months. Our mom knew and hated Robin for it. She’d hit her, scream at her, threaten to sell her to the highest bidder. It was hell. We lived in hell.” She sighed. “I don’t know how you can help her.”

  Tony cleared his throat and closed his eyes. A single tear escaped and slid down his cheek and he took an angry swipe at it and cleared his throat again. “Okay. Thank you,” he whispered. He took a step back and opened his eyes. “Can we talk about this another time?” he asked, gesturing at his conference table.

  “Oh, what, this? Yeah, sure. I’ll go. I’m so sorry, Tony.” Mind whirling, she gathered her purse from under a notebook.