by J. L. Ryan
"Oh Tully, I'm so sorry. They can be dreadful people when they feel their positions are threatened," he hushes my crying.
I pull away from him angrily. "They're dreadful? You are dreadful! Why didn't you stand up for me? I am supposed to be your fiancé! Is this how you would treat your real fiancé?' I demand.
Alex sighs and runs his hand through his thick hair. "No, Tallulah, it's not. It seems I am always seeking your forgiveness," he says ruefully.
I cross my arms and glare at him.
Alex explains, "I had always wondered how my family would treat a fiancé of mine. So I let them run on with it and didn't cut them off by standing up for you. I'm sorry."
I consider this information. "Well Alex, this is a business deal after all. I'm glad you are getting out of this what you need. For myself however no amount of money is worth this level of humiliation. I'm done."
I stand to leave. Alex jumps up and pulls me into a fierce embrace. "No, Tallulah, you are not done."
And then he begins to kiss me, deeply, passionately and almost aggressively. I try to push him away but he holds me tight to him. His mouth hungrily seeks mine. I weaken under his desire and begin to kiss him back.
My stiff body relaxes into his and we become one. Our mouths are seeking each other over and over. Our tongues say a thousand silent things to each other.
Finally, exhausted we break apart. We stare into each other eyes as the twinkly fairy lights of the rose garden cast a glow over us.
"What are we doing, Tallulah," Alex whispers softly.
"I wish I knew, Alex," I whisper back.
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Back at The Deco apartment things have shifted between Alex and I since the garden kiss. Alex has convinced me to keep on with our arrangement.
There is a veneer of politeness in our interactions that is appropriate for our business relationship, but also an underlying sexual tension that confuses and excites me.
Living together is torture. I catch Alex in the kitchen in a towel. His muscular body and hairy chest and wet hair do things to me I have pushed away.
He walks in on me changing for one of the endless events we are attending as a 'couple'. I shriek as he catches me in my La Perla lacy white underwear, about to slip into a chic little Celine outfit.
"Oh gosh Tully I'm so sorry, I thought you heard me knock," Alex apologizes.
Yet his gaze lingers on my body a little longer than necessary.
And then there is the kissing…
Without even discussing what has happened to our relationship Alex and I have taken to kissing silently and suddenly. He will grab me in the kitchen and suddenly brush his lips across mine, before walking away without a word.
I sneak up on Alex at his downtown office at Carlyle Center while he is on a business call and begin kissing him lightly all over his face.
"I have to go, urgent call on the other line from Tokyo," Alex snaps into the receiver.
He takes my chin in his hand and holds my face and returns the kisses in all the same places I had kissed him. His memory amazes me.
He picks me up and parks me on his wide oak desk. Either he is incredibly fit or Pembrey was wrong to criticize my weight, because Alex makes me feel as light as a ballerina.
I wrap my arms around his neck and we kiss hungrily. Alex begins to undo the gold buttons of my white and navy Chanel suit.
"Alex, stop," I say, tearing my mouth away from his.
"I…I'm not ready for this," I manage.
Kissing is one thing, but other things? I don't know if this man is my boyfriend or my boss.
Alex looks at me with restrained desire. He straightens up and brushes imaginary lint of his suit pants.
"Of course. This is business not pleasure," Alex says coolly.
I tilt my head and look at him.
"Yes," I reply slowly, hopping off the desk with surprising grace. "All business. It's why I am in my suit."
With that remark I saunter off towards the door.
As I close the door I hear Alex laughing. I grin to myself. I still am taking a childish pride in making the very serious and very important Heir to the Carlyle Throne laugh.
And focusing on jokes helps me avoid the big question - do I want Alex to be my boss…or my boyfriend?
The trouble is I don't know.
Everything I see of Alex's world convinces me that boyfriend is a bad, bad idea. I keep having a fantasy where Alex comes back to Hunter and gets a job on the railroad, but the problem is Alex wouldn't be who he is outside of living his Carlyle life.
And I love who is.
Oh god. Did I just say I love him?
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"Now ladies let's all put our best caring faces on and welcome the chair of the committee, New York's most charitable woman, Mrs. Duckie Carlyle Caldwell!
Rapturous applause rings out around the Plaza ballroom from a group of women who all aspire to rule New York instead of Duckie.
"Thank you, thank you," Duckie quiets the crowd with her dulcet tones and the wave of a bejeweled hand.
Duckie wears a simple neat navy Dior day dress. Her only accessories are her enormous wedding rings and a sparkling Tiffany Schlumberger brooch of the iconic Bird on a Rock. In simplicity Duckie outshines the overdressed women in the room.
I tune out as Duckie launches into a speech that you could be forgiven came from a committed street work for the poor, not one of America's richest heiresses.
The speech over, I start working the room.
"Tully! So great to see you!" Choruses a gaggle of blonde and gorgeous young women, friends of mine.
"Hi girls," I say with happiness at the sight of the famous Carlyle Quads.
The quadruplet daughters of Jock and Daisy, the four girls have been the only friends I've made in this cutthroat social world. Genuinely nice, albeit very spoiled.
Prinny's nose is rather out of joint at the rise and rise of the girls, who are forever in Page Six. Unfortunately Prinny's social Princess star is a little tarnished these days given all the husbands and rehab trips.
"We must get a selfies with you for Instagram!" shrieks Camile.
Celine chimes in, "Oh yes! Everyone is so keen for pictures of the mysterious future Mrs. Alex."
Claudia and Candy nod in unison.
I grimace at the reminder of my role of fiancé. I feel guilty about lying to the quads, which have been so kind.
Celine hands her phone to one of the two assistants who trail after them, who snap away as we strike a variety of poses. The second assistant takes notes on our outfits to add to the copy.
"They are calling you America's Duchess Kate Middleton, but with shorter hems," giggles Camile.
I give a startled laugh. A Duchess I am not.
"It is very fitting given we are descended from an English Duke," says Candy.
Our conversation is cut off as Duckie swans in. "Girls, really that social media is so tacky," she reprimands the quads, but I can see her affection for them.
"And how are you holding up dear?" Duckie says, turning to me.
"How very clever of you to keep the wedding details secret to build interest, we all await the details with unseemly eagerness," Duckie looks at me as if she knows all my secrets.
Here's the thing about our 'secret' wedding details. There are none. That is because this is a business deal that ends very soon.
I exchange pleasantries with Duckie and I think I manage quite well. In these situations I've taken to pretending I am Brooke Astor reincarnated. It helps.
Duckie floats away to greet more of her subjects and I find myself face to face with the over Botox faced of one CeCe Bartrand. CeCe is one of the aspiring queens to Duckie's social throne.
CeCe attempts to smile but her face won't move.
"Well Tallulah how nice to see you. I was just saying to Alex the other night when he was over that we really should be introduced," CeCe looks at me triumphantly.
The other women ar
ound us shift awkwardly.
"Oh…Alex…. the other night?" I say bewildered.
"Oh yes, didn’t you know Alex stops by? We are very close. We went out for some time. It is hard to let go of a connection that strong, even if his family commitments pull him in another more…. conventional direction," CeCe finishes with a knowing look to the women around us.
CeCe clearly means to humiliate me in front of all New York society. But I've learnt a thing or two in my months moving through this pool of sharks. Unlike that disastrous first Carlyle dinner I am not about to run off crying.
"Well CeCe," I begin, summoning my best Duchess Kate meets Brooke Astor attitude, "Alex must have been comforting you over your latest plastic surgery procedure gone wrong."
The bug eyed social X-rays cannot contain their gleeful laughter. While they may profess to be friends with CeCe one ladies fall is another ladies gain in this world.
With that excellent snarky comment I make like a Carlyle and turn on my heel and stalk away.
I make myself stay the whole event and up the ante, my socializing and queenliness would have put Jackie O to shame. I think even Duckie is impressed.
And I then I head home to confront my man. Because that is what I had decided he is. As Grammie had said when I called for advice, if a man kisses a lady then she is his lady.
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"How dare you!" I yell at Alex, throwing a crystal tumbler from his drinks tray at the wall above his head.
I have stormed into his office and am causing something of a scene. This is sure to end up on Page Six, reported by his employees who saw me at it.
"Hey, what's all this Tull-Tull," Alex said, throwing his hands up in the air.
"Don't you Tull-Tull me," I yell furiously, even angrier now at Alex using a nickname he has given me.
Some 'boss', having a pet name for the employee he is kissing.
"I know you have been seeing that CeCe while coming home and kissing me everywhere from the butler's pantry to the maid's room," I glare at him.
Alex throws back his head and laughs, "Oh CeCe up to her old tricks is she!"
I grab another tumbler and get ready to throw it. If there is one thing I hate it is not being taken seriously when mad.
"Come here," Alex commands. Reluctantly I go and sit on his lap.
"CeCe is an old girlfriend, and a troubled one. I know she can seem awful but she's actually sweet and vulnerable. I stopped by her place to see her because her dog had died and she was pretty down. Nothing happened and it was just the once," Alex explains.
"Oh Alex, now I feel awful! I didn't say nice things," I bury my head in his shoulder.
"Don't worry about it, she probably did deserve it," Alex playfully tousles my hair and draws me in for a kiss.
"Tonight when I get home from work let's have a good talk about us. I'm falling in love you," Alex says simply.
I beam at him. He loves me!
"Me too," I say shyly.
We gaze at each other and I want this moment to go forever and ever.
Chapter 5: Precious things, easily lost
Leaving Alex's office I skip out to the car. Even the paparazzi don't bother me today. I feel less like the once hounded Carolyn Bessette Kennedy and more Kim Kardashian, happy to have my picture taken.
I am a woman in love.
Sliding into the back of the limousine I park my Hermes Kelly on the seat beside me and notice the driver has changed since I pulled up.
The man, who introduces himself as Peter, says the other driver has gone on a break. We chat easily. I don't even notice we don't appear to be going home.
Suddenly we pull into a nondescript underground parking lot and it occurs to me things are very, very wrong.
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"Please, please," I say tearfully into the camera. "Please help me." I begin crying.
It has been three days since I was kidnapped. Three days of a concrete room, mattress on the floor and a shameful lack of privacy.
The kidnappers haven't hurt me badly, but I am a little battered and bruised from resisting them in the parking garage. My right arm really hurts.
Why hasn't Alex come for me, I think desperately. He loves me. He said so. He wouldn't leave me like. I try to stay positive.
As the days wear on with no sign of rescue I can't stop thinking of who would do this to me. Was it Barclay? The renegade billionaire is well known for his hated of Alex's branch of the family, and his questionable morals. Maybe I haven't been rescued because this isn't about money, but revenge.
I give up thinking about why and who and curl into a ball and cry myself to sleep, imagining Alex's strong arms around me making everything better.
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"Nobody move or we'll shoot!" I wake up suddenly to the sound of shouting and gunfire. Rescue! Alex!
The door to my prison room flung open and Alex, dressed in dark combat gear like the solider he once was, storms in. I throw myself into his arms and start sobbing.
"Oh Alex!" I cry.
"Baby we have to get out of here," Alex put his arm around me and helps me move to the door and the nightmare is over.
When the endless interviews with the police are over Alex takes me to the family's country estate, Mardelina, in rural Virginia.
A visit was made to South Carolina to visit Grammie and reassure her. I pretended Alex and I were still all business but I think she knew otherwise.
At the Virginia estate under Alex's tender care I begin to recover my strength and my bruises are healing.
"How are you feeling tonight," Alex says to me as we rest in front of the fire.
"Good," I respond, "My arm doesn't hurt anymore."
"And emotionally," Alex enquires, scrutinizing me. "Still a little shaky," I reply.
The police and the Carlyle family have determined a distant English Carlyle cousin, Lord Richard, had orchestrated my kidnapping.
"It makes me so angry," Alex says, gripping his glass tighter.
"A title and estate is not worth kidnapping someone over. The English laws may be unfair that when someone dies without an heir the title goes to a distant male cousin, but just because grandfather was ahead of Lord Richard in the distant line that doesn't justify what Richard did," Alex looks furious.
I nod and stare off into space. In the space of nearly three months I had gone from living a quiet life in Hunter and planning to go back to college to being kidnapped by an insane English Lord.
Romances with billionaires are far from dull.
"I'll never let anyone hurt you again," Alex says softly, kissing me.
We begin to kiss gently, then urgently. After all this time we haven't even made love. Right when we were about to sort out our relationship I had been kidnapped. This was our first chance with me well and time alone.