“I’m sorry. I should have been more sensitive to your loss.” He sounds genuine, but don’t all serial liars?
“You couldn’t have known,” I say, wiping another warm tear from my cheek. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
We’re in his SUV, and I’m so angry I can’t even stand looking at him.
“So I thought I might present you with the engagement ring tonight in front of my family, if that’s okay with you?” he says.
“Sure. When?” I say, no emotion in my voice, but rage inside my heart.
“After dessert, but before the presents. We open our presents on Christmas Eve. It’s a long-going family tradition. Anyway, that’s when everyone will be there, and it will be a big moment for the whole family,” Michael says.
What a complete jerk. I can’t believe he lies to his family like this. I sit and mull for a while. And then I realize. “Crap! I don’t have presents for anyone,” I say.
“Don’t worry. I’ve taken care of it all. This deal shouldn’t have to cost you any out of pocket money.”
I don’t respond. I don’t want to talk to him right now. He puts his hand on my knee, but I don’t take it. I just leave it there.
“And so we’ll invite everyone to the wedding to be held next week,” Michael says.
I don’t know if I can go through this. I’m just so torn up about it, and I’m too emotionally invested to keep a straight face. Or even to consider saying yes to his proposal tonight. I’m going to get back at him. Tonight. I have to. But then I see my dad’s sickly face before me. I can’t not see it through. This is what will save my dad’s life. This will provide security for us for years to come.
“How would you like me to respond?” I ask.
“Well, how would you respond if I actually asked you to marry you?” Michael says.
Right now? I seethe inside. “I don’t know, Michael. I might say something like hurray, or Yippy Skippy.”
He laughs, but when he sees that my face is serious he stops. “You don’t seem like yourself, Scarlett.”
I cross my arms in front of my chest and lean away from him.
“Is there something you’d like to share?” he asks.
“No, not with you,” I say.
“I hope I haven’t done anything to offend you.” His voice is soft and sincere.
“Oh, no, how could you? It’s nothing personal, right, just business?”
“Exactly.” He nods.
Obviously, the world’s biggest prick didn’t pick up on my sarcasm. “I’ll be fine by this evening,” I say. If I show up at all.
22
We’re at Michael’s house before I know it. I’m glad there is no time to fool around when we arrive, because I would not have been able to not reject him. He’d definitely know something was up with me then.
Michael hired a hairdresser and make-up artist to come help me get ready. Maybe he thinks I need a lot of help. It takes all my willpower, and then some, to stop crying as they’re working on my hair and make-up. I force myself to get it together emotionally and redirect my thoughts to the giant reward that awaits me if I can pull this deal off.
One and a half billion dollars.
One and a half billion dollars.
One and a half billion dollars.
One and a half billion dollars.
By the time the hairdresser and make-up artist are finished, I look like a million bucks. I slip into my new dress, put my chandelier earrings on, step into my shoes and head downstairs where Michael has told me he would be waiting. He sees me at the top of the stairs, his eyes scanning my body from across the room.
I feel a little better knowing that the real me can have this effect on him, even though he’s probably just thinking about the other me.
“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he says when he meets me at the bottom of the stairs.
“Thanks,” I say, feeling just a little twinkle of light in the black abyss of my current hopelessness.
“No, I’m serious. I am in complete awe of your beauty.”
“Don’t push yourself too hard, now Mr. Manning.” He’s so smooth; I could easily fall for his slimy remarks.
Of course he looks absolutely stunning in his black tuxedo, white dress shirt, red bowtie and silver cufflinks, which are probably white gold. His hair is a little tamer than normal, but it makes him look even more handsome, even more of a gentleman than before.
For a moment I almost forget that I despise him and that he’s a cheater. He offers me his hand, palm open, and I take it. The spark between us is still there, dammit! But I will not succumb to something that is not real. Not again.
I hear people talking in the second lobby, and when I enter with Michael, most of them turn and face me. There must be at least forty people in here. All the men are in tuxedos and all the ladies in evening gowns, just as nice, if not nicer than my own. They’re all smiling at me. I look down, because I don’t want them to see in my eyes that I’m a counterfeit soon-to-be part of their family, but just-as-soon-to-not-be, fraud.
“Introduce us to your new friend, Michael,” a middle-aged woman says to Michael.
“Aunt Sheila, this is Scarlett, my girlfriend,” Michael says.
“Oh, it’s a pleasure to meet you Scarlett. How long have you known each other for?” She looks surprised. Probably because she knew about the previous fiancé.
“Is my wife interrogating you?” A middle-aged man enters our intimate circle.
“No, Dear. I was just getting to know Scarlett here,” Sheila says.
“Let the poor lady speak for herself,” the man says. “I’m Harold, Sheila’s other half. Pleased to meet you.”
“Pleased to meet you, too,” I say. Harold is the exact opposite of Sheila: relaxed, cheerful and from what I could tell, possesses a great sense of humor.
I speak to about another dozen people who are all related to Michael some how, and then Mrs. Manning announces that dinner will now be served in the dining room. We slowly meander toward the dining room.
Michael escorts me over to the long table and we stand behind our seats, waiting for everyone to do the same. We’re at the very end. The table is decked to the nines, tens and elevens and all in golds and reds. There is a formal, almost majestic, atmosphere in the dining room. It reminds me of some of the movies I’ve seen where there is an extravagant banquet held in honor of some king or queen.
Diane is rolled in in her wheel chair and is stationed at the opposite end of us. I’m somewhat relieved I don’t have to deal with her during dinner.
After we sit down, Michael leans over to me and whispers, “This is a four course meal, so pace yourself.”
I nod and smile. I’ve never had a four-course meal in my life. And what’s with all this silverware? I’ll just imitate what Michael does.
“I’m Kenneth, Michael’s cousin on his father’s side,” the guy with the pepper red hair sitting next to me says. His eyes are kind, and though he seems to be used to this kind of primp, he doesn’t seem to be part of it.
“I’m Scarlett, Michaels girlfriend,” I say, fumbling about where to place my hands. Finally I just fold them and put my hands in my lap.
“Very nice to meet you.” Kenneth leans over and nods. “Don’t let all this stuffiness fool you. We’re really quite laid back usually. Except for at Christmas and before the hard liquors have been passed around.” He chuckles.
“Glad to hear.” I’m grateful I have a normal person sitting next to me, especially since I can’t stand to look at Michael without wanting to punch him right now.
The first thing on my plate is a spinach salad with poppy seed dressing. Then they serve me a red roast tomato soup. The main dish is ham, potatoes, asparagus and rolls, and dessert is a raspberry soufflé with chocolate liquor sauce.
When we’re finished eating, I’m so full I regret having picked out such a tight-fitting dress. Michael escorts me out to the living room, a gigantic chamber with the largest residential Christmas tree I
have ever seen. It has all white lights, red and silver globes and tons of other small decorations. Some ornaments look like they’re hand-made and a hundred years old, others look manufactured but look like antiques. I wonder what the story behind each of them is.
Michael excuses himself and Kenneth approaches me immediately.
“Is there a story behind each of these?” I ask, gesturing to one of the decorations on the tree.
“Yes, as a matter of fact there is. Diane is the sole heir to the Kovaks fortune. If you haven’t heard of it, it’s a very wealthy, semi-royal family that comes from Romania. They immigrated to the United States just before World War One,” Kenneth says.
“Oh?” I say.
“And so each of these ornaments Diane either received as an inheritance, or purchased from other descendants of the Kovaks family. I think it is her intention to collect all of them,” Kenneth says.
“And how many are there?” I ask. I am stunned by the heritage this family has. As far as I know, my ancestors were descendants of farmers in northern Europe.
“I think the original count was a thousand, but some have been destroyed over time. The only family Diane hasn’t been able to convince to sell her the last of the ornaments turned her down just this year.” Kenneth steps closer to me and whispers, “It was rumored she offered them one million dollars for thirteen pieces.”
My eyes pop open. “That’s insane.” I laugh.
“I know. And this is what you’re marrying into,” Kenneth says.
“I guess I don’t know Michael as well as I thought. I had no idea his heritage was so grand,” I say.
“Michael hasn’t told you of his immense heritage?” Kenneth says, a puzzled look on his face.
“Well, some, but not that,” I say.
“Michael is not a very flamboyant man. He doesn’t like all the fuss surrounding his wealth. In fact, part of me thinks he resents it,” Kenneth says, his eye perusing the tree.
“Why do you say that?” I ask.
Kenneth chuckles. “Well, for one thing, he’s never been able to date a girl just for love.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling like Kenneth might know more about Michael, me and our deal than what I had initially thought.
“Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean to accuse you of marrying him for his money,” Kenneth says. “In fact, I think Michael finally found someone worthy to love the man, not just his pocket book. Michael says you didn’t even know who he was until after your first date. Seems you still don’t fully realize who he is, if I might be so bold as to say.”
I feel super guilty, but I paste on my most charming smile. “I must admit, I didn’t know who he was when I first met him. I must be a hermit living underneath a rock.”
“No, only a girl in love,” Michael interrupts us.
Both Kenneth and I turn to him and smile.
“Michael, you are very lucky to have such a woman in your life,” Kenneth says. “I approve.”
I smile. “I’m glad.” But inside I’m fuming at Michael. He’s so two-faced.
“Well, even if you didn’t approve, Kenneth, I’d still be dating her,” Michael says, wrapping his arm around me.
I don’t like his hands on me right now, but I have to pretend that everything is normal, and that I love being around this man.
Michael introduces me to several other family members and then he kisses me on the cheek and leaves me again. This time with his cousin, Bethany, a woman who looks like she’s had three too many Botox injections and hair that looks like its been permanently frozen into a Wilma hair-do.
The three kids that are here have waited patiently. Kenneth announces that we should find a spot so we can begin the opening of presents. That’s my clue. That’s when Michael is supposed to ask me to marry him. I see him across the room and he’s tapping his spoon against a flute of champagne.
“May I have everyone’s attention, please?” Michael yells over the gathering.
Everyone hushes on cue. My heart thumps in my chest. This is it. I don’t want to say yes right now. But I have to.
“Sorry to delay the start of the gift-giving, but Scarlett, would you come here, babe?” Michael says, holding out his hand.
My chest tightens, and my hands feel cold and sweaty. It’s like I’m in a dream or a movie, watching everything from the outside. I walk over to Michael, not really registering that I’m walking. This moment feels like an illusion. Because it isn’t real! my mind yells at me. It takes me forever, it feels like, to make my way over to Michael, the man I thought I could trust just a few hours ago. The man I thought I might even love. Now, I’m just upset and can barely keep it together.
Everyone is staring at me. Everyone is wondering what will happen next. I don’t want to be the center of attention. Especially when my heart has been crushed so thoroughly, and what I’m about to take part in is a lie.
Michael takes me by the hand and we’re standing in front of the black baby grand next to the Christmas tree.
“You’ve all met Scarlett by now, I hope. If not, too bad, because I want her all to myself the rest of the evening,” Michael says.
The gathering laughs, and I, too, smile like I’m enjoying myself.
“But all joking aside. I met Scarlett only a few weeks ago, and as many of you know, right after Nina and I broke our engagement off,” Michael says.
The gathering is very quiet now, and I swear everyone can hear my heart pounding against my chest.
“But I believe all things happen for a reason.”
Michael wraps his arm around me and I just keep smiling. I feel my cheeks getting hot.
“For I met Scarlett at the most unlikely place. At church. And most of you know how often I don’t attend church,” Michael says.
The gathering laughs again.
“Sinner,” Kenneth yells.
“But when I saw Scarlett across the chapel, her beautiful black hair, her dazzling brown eyes and her breathtakingly bright smile, I knew I had to meet her.” He looks at me and smiles. He actually looks genuine.
Oh, he’s good. Real good. I keep smiling, white-knuckling the wine glass in my hand. I wonder if any of them realize he’s such a great liar.
Michael looks down and says in a hushed voice, “I think I loved her from the moment I saw her.”
Oh, heavens, he said love. I think I’m going to cry. He doesn’t love me. He loves a stripper!
“So now, with all of you here, my dear family, I wanted to share this moment with you.” Michael gets down on one knee, looking up at me.
I start crying immediately. His family probably thinks I’m crying because I’m so happy, but I’m crying because my heart has been trampled on and has been deceived. I’m crying because we could actually be so great together, and because what I told Michael’s mom is true. I do feel like I’ve come home when I’m around him. But this is all so wrong. This is how I wish it would be, but it so is not.
Michael pulls out a small white velvet-covered box and pops it open. Inside is the most beautiful engagement ring I have ever seen. I gasp—genuinely. It’s so big. I don’t really know my carats, but this has got to be quite a few of those.
“Will you do me the honor and marry me, Scarlett Hansen?” he asks.
Tears are clouding my vision. Michael has just pretend-asked me to marry him. He’s in front of his family. Is it time for payback? Yes. No. Yes.
23
No.
“Yes, Michael, I’ll marry you,” I say, barely able to speak the words, my throat is so dry.
This is the worst moment of my life. And as I know all too well—I only have myself to blame. I shouldn’t have fallen for him. I should have kept things professional. I should have not been such a liar.
Michael stands up, slips the mountain of a rock onto my finger and embraces me.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
Thank you for what? Marrying you? Making you one and a half billion dollars? For not making you look like a fool? For bei
ng so convincing that the whole family believes our Oscar-worthy performance?
His family is overjoyed and they crowd toward us and come up to congratulate us. There’s even cheering, whopping and whistling, and I do feel like they approve of me. Maybe they’re not as stuffy as I had initially thought.
Michael pulls me close and kisses me passionately. I melt for a moment, but then remember that this is only a business transaction with a whole lot of baggage.
Diane, who has avoided me pretty much up until this point, comes over.
“I need to speak with you, Dear.” She rolls off in her highly advanced electrical wheelchair and I follow after her. She must be very sick at this point, facing the last few days of her life to be confined to a wheel chair. I don’t think it’s appropriate to ask her about her health, and can’t really think of anything else worthy of conversation.
Diane takes me into the library, asking me to shut the white French doors behind me. I do as I’m told because this woman has authority.
“I apologize for the abrupt way in which I dismissed you last Friday. I didn’t mean to upset you. I am just so entrenched in my ways that when I find what I’m seeking for, I stop,” Diane says. “And I don’t have much time left on this earth to waste anyway.”
“So you found what it was you were seeking?” I ask, sitting down on the burgundy leather sofa. There are no normal walls in this room. Only bookshelves filled to the brim and a gigantic glass sliding door on one wall.
“Yes. The way to know a woman’s soul is to read her eyes,” Diane says.
I gulp and wring my hands. Can she read my deceit? Or should I say deceits, because now there are so many of them even I can’t keep track of them all.
She steeples her hands and is deep in thought. “You love my son, it is very obvious.”
I want to scream that no, I don’t because Michael’s a liar and a cheater, which basically are the same thing, but at this point, the more descriptive words I can throw at the jerk, the better.
“But what I am yet uncertain about is whether or not he loves you.” Diane’s eyes peer at me like I’m the enemy.
The Black Chapel Page 12