by Sarah Price
The girl had long blond hair that hung down her back. She wore a white shirt, a pair of jeans, and cowboy boots. Leaning against the wall, she looked bored and reached into her pocket to pull out a tube of lipstick, which she promptly opened and rubbed over her lips. Red. As she put it away, she glanced over at Amanda and Aaron. Her expression was dull. Clearly, she was unimpressed with the two plain Amish youth before her. After all, she was beautiful and she knew it.
“Why did she just paint her lips?” Aaron whispered, staring back at the strange Englische girl.
“Because she’s ugly on the inside,” Amanda replied, feeling naughty as soon as she said it but smiling when Aaron laughed.
The room was crowded with people, each of the women dressed in the latest fashion, trying to outshine one another while most of the men were dressed in similar garb: black tuxedos. As she sat at the table, she looked around, shaking her head slightly at the ostentatious nature of the event.
Tall vases of flowers decorated the white-linen-clad tables. Each place setting had multiple plates and gold flatware. There were four glasses at each place, for water, white wine, red wine, and champagne. All to recognize the talents of one man: a music producer? She felt that it was beyond opulent even for this world where “too much” was the norm.
“Here, Princesa,” Alejandro said and handed her the tall, fluted glass with bubbling liquid in it.
Taking it from him, she started to lift it to her lips but, as she started to take a sip of the champagne, she noticed a silver object on the bottom of the glass. For a moment, she did a double take and squinted, trying to see what it was.
“Alejandro,” she whispered as she leaned toward him. “There’s something in my glass!”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh?”
“I think it’s a bug or something!” she whispered, careful so that no one else could hear.
He shut his eyes and chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “Why don’t you look, Princesa?”
She frowned at him, wondering why he didn’t care, and reached for the tall flute of bubbling champagne. Looking into it, she tried to determine what was at the bottom. It was large and round, the bubbles floating up from it toward the surface. If she didn’t know better, she’d think it was a ring. “What in the world?” she asked.
Rolling his eyes but laughing to himself, he took the champagne glass from her hand and lifted it to his lips, drinking the liquid until just a bit remained. Then, he tilted the glass onto the white napkin and a ring emerged. Her heart began to pound as she realized that people were observing them. They watched as Alejandro dried off the ring and slipped onto one knee before her. He held the ring between his fingers and, as if offering it to her, lifted it ever so slightly.
There was a collective silence from the people who sat near them. All eyes were watching. She felt the color drain from her face, hating the attention but knowing that this was Alejandro’s way of announcing their engagement to the world. He reached for her hand and gently slid the ring onto her finger before lifting her hand to his lips and planting a soft kiss where the jewel sat.
“Oh,” she gasped, mesmerized by the ring on her finger. “Alejandro!”
“If you are going to marry me,” he said softly so that no one else could hear, “I want the world to know. That is all right, sí?”
Too aware of the people staring at them, she forced herself to nod, shocked at the public nature of this display but understanding exactly what he was doing: playing to the fans and the media. When he stood up, he pulled her to her feet and embraced her in front of everyone. People applauded and cheered politely, quickly sharing the news with those who sat at tables farther back and hadn’t been able to witness firsthand the official engagement of Viper to the young Amish girl. It would, however, be discussed on all of the gossip radio shows and entertainment channels for days to come.
Chapter Twenty
The media and the public approached the engagement from one of two perspectives. Some people felt that the engagement was rushed and, as such, a mistake. How could a man like Viper settle down with just one woman, they argued, and one as inexperienced as this Amish girl, Amanda Beiler? The other side argued that Viper had met his match in the innocence of the Amish girl. He was calming down and, as a result, getting ready to slow down at last.
Amanda shoved the magazine away, disgusted with what she had read. It worried her more than she chose to admit that Alejandro was, indeed, so experienced and known for sleeping with so many women. She, on the other hand, had only kissed one man: Alejandro. What if the reporters were right? What if he couldn’t settle down with just one woman?
“¡Buenos días, Princesa!” he sang as he walked into the room.
She looked up and tried to smile, but the heaviness of her heart weighed deeply upon her. In her world, the union of two people was a time of joy and happiness. Marriage was forever. There was never any underlying speculation. Yet, she knew that in Alejandro’s world, forever could have a very different meaning, indeed.
“What’s troubling my beautiful fiancée?” he asked as he sat down at the table and nodded at Señora Perez, who promptly served him coffee.
Amanda glanced at the magazine. “Why do they write such horrible things?” she asked.
He reached over for the magazine and shuffled through it. When he came upon the article about their engagement, his eyes quickly scanned the words, then the photos. He didn’t seem fazed as he pushed it aside. “They have to report on something, no? The truth is boring. Speculation is what sells copies of their magazine. It won’t go away, Amanda.”
“I reckon.” But she didn’t feel that way. Instead, she felt it was an invasion of their privacy. What was even more unnerving was that she didn’t like how it made her feel. She didn’t need to feel any more insecure than she already did. Despite loving Alejandro and knowing that he loved her, she was too aware that she was scared of what might lie ahead for them.
Three days before, they had returned to Miami. Alejandro was helping some friends mix their beats at his home studio during the afternoons, the three men sitting around a computer while listening to the music and adjusting the different levels. At night, he had shared supper with her before disappearing for the evening to visit clubs with his friends.
She hadn’t minded, but she did notice that the media seemed to follow his every move, publishing photos of Alejandro at the dance clubs and wondering why he was out alone, without his fiancée. He had scoffed about it, completely undisturbed by the insinuations. Still, he saw that Amanda was bothered by such questions.
“Come here,” he said and reached out for her. She obliged, and he pulled her onto his lap. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he held her close, with an all-too-familiar gleam in his eyes. “I don’t like to see you upset, Princesa. This is our time. We must enjoy the moment.” She didn’t respond. “I have a break in my schedule, Amanda, in two weeks. Why don’t we go away on the boat for a while? I’ll have Rodriego do what he can to expedite that passport, and we can tour the islands for a few days?”
She shook her head. “Nee,” she said. She knew that he was busy. The studio was finishing his video that he had recorded a lifetime ago in Los Angeles, wanting to release it over the Internet before Thanksgiving. And she knew that he was recording a new song. “It’s all right, Alejandro.”
He studied her reaction, his blue eyes flickering over her face. “I see,” he said simply. “You know that I won’t get much of a break again until after the holidays. We have concerts in six cities on the East Coast and appearances at other events before New Year’s.”
Boston. New York. Philadelphia. Providence. New Jersey. Back to New York and then Baltimore. Yes, she was aware that they were going to be traveling. The thought didn’t bother her. She had enjoyed more of Alejandro’s attention and company when they had first left Lancaster and were on the road. Still, she shr
ugged. “I just feel . . .” She didn’t know what she felt. Useless? Bored? Something.
“You are beautiful when you are frustrated,” he said lightly.
“I’m not frustrated,” she retorted, but as soon as she said it, she knew that he was right.
“I know!” he said, squeezing her tighter. “We will arrange a party with friends and family here to celebrate our engagement!”
Another party? The thought pained her. She was tired of parties and people. She didn’t feel as if she fit in with these people. They liked to eat and drink, dance and sing. She felt inadequate next to the barely clad women with bronze skin and long, wavy hair who all vied for Alejandro’s attention, not caring that Amanda was standing beside him.
“Two weeks from Friday!” he said happily. “And you will plan it. That will keep you busy and occupied. I will have Rodriego help you.”
“I’m not so certain about that,” she said cautiously.
But he insisted.
True to his word, Rodriego kept her busy, spending most of the day with her and arranging for her to meet with a party planner who could take Amanda different places . . . to taste food, to select flowers, to print invitations, to pick out decorations. Reluctantly, she went along with it, but only because Alejandro was so excited. When she saw him in the mornings, he would ask her what she had done the previous day. She’d tell him, and he’d nod his agreement with her decisions.
“You are a good event planner,” he teased one morning. “It will be a fabulous party.”
She wished that she felt as confident.
Everything had to be removed from the rooms downstairs. Amanda and Aaron were in charge of that. Anna was responsible for washing the baseboards and corners of each wall. Mamm was mumbling under her breath as she looked at the windowsills and shook her head.
“Anna, you see that your bruder wipes down those sills! So much dirt, you’d think we never cleaned them!”
Amanda had overheard her mother. “I’ll do it, Mamm. I just asked Aaron to wipe down the furniture outside. Might as well give it a good cleaning before we bring it back in, after service.”
Her mother paused as if repeating what Amanda had said in her mind. Then, satisfied, she nodded. “Gut, Amanda. Danke.”
Once a year, the church service was held in their house. This weekend was that time of year. That meant that everything had to shine, a complete cleaning of the entire house . . . although Amanda thankfully noticed that her mother was more focused on the downstairs than the upstairs. Every inch of the walls, floor, woodwork, and cabinets had to be scrubbed and cleaned. Everything had to shine with cleanliness and care. Everything had to smell fresh and clean.
Amanda was always amazed at how her mother managed to coordinate Church Sunday fellowship. With over two hundred people, more or less, attending, she had to ensure that there was enough food for everyone. She coordinated this with neighbors and friends. One family would bring the pie box, a large wooden box with shelves that contained freshly made pies for all of those people. Depending on the time of year, there would be pecan pie, apple pie, pumpkin pie, or shoofly pie. Another family would bring freshly baked bread or cold cuts. And still another family might make the cup cheese, pretzels, applesauce, or chowchow.
It took a lot of coordinating to feed so many people and to have a spotless house in which to entertain them. Amanda knew that the other women would be critical of her mother’s house, maybe even find a reason to gossip about her skills as a housekeeper. It was a little game that the older women sometimes played.
“Did you see how dirty her windows were?” one might whisper, clicking her tongue several times as she shook her head in disapproval.
“Her sink drain hasn’t been cleaned in years!” another might add.
Over the years, Amanda had heard it all and was determined that no one would be able to say such naughty things about her mother and her own home. If that meant two days of cleaning the first floor from top to bottom, so be it. No one would fault her mother for not knowing how to host church service, that was for sure and certain.
It was the evening of the party. Amanda’s stomach was in a knot, but she knew that, at this point, it would either be a wonderful success or an amazing failure. The party planner had been helpful, guiding Amanda through food selection, table placement, and floral arrangements. Amanda suspected on more than one occasion that Alejandro’s hand was behind the decisions that were made, but the seasoned Carol had always made certain Amanda thought the decisions were her own.
She hadn’t seen Alejandro for more than a few minutes during the past two days. If it hadn’t been for Rodriego and Carol, who kept her busy, she would have collapsed on her bed and buried her face in her hands, crying.
Ever since Los Angeles, and what she had come to realize was a staged proposal at the dinner, a proposal that fed the media and social network circuits, Alejandro had been aloof and distant. In fact, he had barely mentioned their engagement, and she feared that he might have changed his mind. Gone were the hugs and the kisses. Gone were the stolen glances and sultry looks. Instead, he was out late at night and the tabloids were having a field day with the photos of women trying to capture Viper’s heart (or at least one night with him) before he settled down with his Amish wife.
Every morning, Rodriego left a stack of papers on the table at the place where Alejandro usually sat. However, most mornings, he wasn’t there to look at them. His routine varied without any prediction: either he slept late or woke early to work. The contrast in his inconsistencies confused her. Her eyes would wander to the papers, seeing the photos and the circled articles on the printouts that Rodriego had gathered. Amanda never even knew whether he saw those articles, but each photo made her feel as if a lump was forming in her throat.
Perhaps the media was right, she thought as she stared out the window in her bedroom, watching the setup of tables and flowers and other decorations that Carol had told her would be “just perfect.” Perhaps he can’t settle down with just one woman.
Someone knocked at her bedroom door. She glanced over her shoulder at the door before letting the curtain fall back into place, then she padded across the plush white carpet toward the door. She was wearing a white robe, tied at the waist, after having taken a nice warm bubble bath in the large tub in her bathroom. So standing behind the door, she opened it slightly and peeked outside, making certain that she was hidden.
It was Alejandro.
He seemed tense and withdrawn, standing on the other side of the door. His eyes studied her face, flickering back and forth from her eyes to her lips. Yes, she thought. Something was clearly bothering him. “May I?” he asked, gesturing toward the room.
“I’m not dressed,” she said softly, her heart pounding as she noticed the way his jaw was clenched.
“Ay, Dios,” he said and pushed the door open, gently but with enough force that she had no choice but to back away and let him into the room. He stood before her, wearing a black tuxedo that accentuated his broad shoulders and muscular chest. When he saw her standing there in the white robe, clutching it tightly at her throat, he actually almost smiled. “Is that why you said no?” He motioned toward the robe. “¡Qué rica!” And he laughed, reaching out to take her hand and pull her close to him. The gesture startled Amanda, and as he took her hands, she felt the robe open slightly, exposing more of her chest than she felt comfortable with.
“Alejandro,” she said, trying to free her hands in order to close the top of the robe.
But he wasn’t listening. Instead, he backed her into the wall and cupped her head against it. “I have a surprise for you tonight,” he said softly, that deep, husky tone to his voice, the one that she hadn’t heard since their engagement was announced. “I hope it makes you happy, Princesa.”
“I’d be happy if you let me get changed properly and privately,” she replied, her voice soft but firm. “
This is inappropriate.”
Again, the laugh. A deep belly laugh that she hadn’t heard for a while either. “What is the difference? Explain that to me,” he asked. “Between seeing you in a bathing suit and seeing you in a robe?”
She managed to free one hand and clutch at the robe. “I can’t explain it. But there is.”
His face was close to hers, and his blue eyes searched her dark ones. With his other hand, he traced an imaginary line along the tip of her nose to her lips. “Not for long,” he whispered before he leaned forward to kiss her, a powerful and passionate kiss that left her breathless and stunned. She could smell the strong, musky scent of his cologne and felt the strength of his body against hers. The way the kiss made her feel caused her cheeks to flush, especially when he pulled away, just enough so that he could gaze into her eyes once again. “It will be a good night, no?”
And then he released her. As suddenly as his moment of passion was there, it was gone.
He turned away from her and walked toward her closet. “Lucinda sent you a dress that I’d like you to wear tonight,” he said, with a gruff hoarseness to his voice. “I asked Señora Perez to hang it in your closet. It’s the pale blue dress.” He glanced over his shoulder at her. Once again, he seemed to hesitate, drinking her in with his eyes. When he cleared his throat, he looked away. “I think you will find it most beautiful and flattering, despite how simple it is,” he added, his voice returning to normal.
Without another word, he left the room and shut the door behind him.
For a moment, she stared at the closed door, stunned by the whirlwind that had just flown in and out of the room. What had just happened? she wondered. Clearly, he was a man of many moods and ways of expressing them. After two weeks of barely seeing him, she was even more confused by his actions and words just then, more than by his weeks of silence and absence.