by Maren Smith
“You look beautiful,” he said when she came down the stairs.
“Your nose is going to grow if you keep that up.” She turned so he could help her into her new coat.
“And if you keep that up, young lady,” he murmured near her ear, hot and seductive and threateningly all at once, “then your bottom is going to glow.” His hands gently squeezed her shoulders. “Shall we try this again? You look lovely.”
Was it the reference to another spanking or his hands on her that made her breath catch in her throat? A warm surge of pleasure helped to calm the nervous butterflies within her. He didn’t have to compliment her, but it felt nice that he cared enough to say it and his attention made her smile. “Thank you.”
He squeezed her shoulders again. “Let’s go.”
After dropping Megan off with a babysitter, on the way to the charity party, Travis told her what to expect. “Most people don’t like to argue, as much as they wish to sound knowledgeable. So, if you are asked a question or find yourself required to offer an opinion, simply smile and say, ‘I’m not sure, what do you think?’ We may not always be together, but I’ll try not to leave you on your own for too long. Enjoy what they serve you tonight; it’s costing me ten thousand a plate.”
“Holy cow!”
“I believe fish or chicken is more likely, but it’s all for a good cause. The money is earmarked to help renovate the Long-Term wing at the Children’s Hospital. It needs to be done, I have the money to help, and the publicity is sometimes worth the trouble of attending these highly over-rated and mostly boring functions. However, it always pays to be on your best behavior, so no fidgeting, don’t show your fear and above all else, remember, we love each other madly.”
“No fidget, no fear,” she parroted. “Madly in love. Got it.” Jamie smoothed her hands over her stomach, then abruptly switched to the rear-facing seat to knock on the driver’s window. When Ben rolled it down, she said, “Quick, Ben, pull over!”
“Don’t you dare get sick in the back of my car,” Ben told her, immediately hitting his blinker and pulling off onto the soft gravel shoulder.
Travis reached for her. “Jamie, are you all right?”
“Stuff me in the trunk,” she told him desperately. “Now. Before it’s too late! I just know if I go, we’ll never pull it off.”
Ben looked at her in the rearview mirror, then shook his head and pulled back onto the road.
“Come here, sweetheart.” Taking her hands, Travis pulled her back onto the seat beside him. “I’m not introducing you to the Spanish Inquisition. It’ll be all right.”
“I’ll embarrass you; I just know it. I’ll do or say something…”
“Don’t worry,” he said soothingly. “If worse comes to worst, I’ll simply kiss you insensible before the entire assemblage. They’ll all be scandalized, of course, but there are few social faux pas that can outlive a good gossipy kiss.”
Jamie popped her thumbnail into her mouth.
He removed it before she could start chewing. “I believe that falls under fidgeting, sweetheart.”
“They’re going to take one look at me and know I’m a fake.”
“They’ll take one look at you and fall hopelessly in love,” Travis assured her. Like I did, was on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. She didn’t need to hear that anyway. She was already smiling at him.
“Flatterer.”
“‘She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that’s best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes.’”
Her smile turned soft. “Who said that?”
“Lord Byron.” Those blue eyes of hers were going to be his downfall. So wide and uncertain and fixed so trustingly on him; he tried to put her mind at ease. “Tonight is nothing to be afraid of. It’s a lot like school. The men gather in groups and hold ‘My Car is Faster Than Your Car,’ ‘My Lawyer Can Beat Up Your Lawyer,’ ‘My Manly Attributes Are Larger and Brassier Than Your Manly Attributes’ debates. The women discuss whatever it is women talk about when they get together, all the while listening for juicy gossip or tidbits of useful information. Deals are garnered at these functions and contacts can often be made. It’s like a very expensive schoolyard game of grab the flag, only the teams aren’t always clearly defined. But it does have one useful function: the people we meet tonight will spread the news of our marriage to all the right ears. Life,” he said, as the car turned into the long and secluded driveway to a white-pillared mansion, “is all about advertising.”
Parking attendants opened the car door for them and directed Ben on where to park. They followed a velvet carpet past a crash of reporters and flashing camera lights, and up a short flight of steps, where they paused at the door while Travis handed his invitation to a security man.
“Travis, darling! You came!” The woman who came sweeping through the door at them, arms held open in greeting to clutch Travis’s shoulders, was one of the most stunningly beautiful women Jamie had ever seen. It was in her manner and her bearing almost more than her appearance, for she was also sixty if she was a day. Her blue-grey hair was neatly coiffed atop her head, and the dazzling red dress fit her body in a way that made Jamie positively green with envy.
“How wonderful that you came,” she said, turning her face to one side in invitation. “Usually you only send a check.”
“I had no choice,” Travis said as he bent to kiss her cheek. “Your beauty is too intoxicating, Rachael. I found myself in withdrawal.”
“Flattery will get you absolutely everything, darling. But of course, you know that.”
As Travis let go of Rachel, he wrapped an arm around Jamie’s waist, tucking her into a warm and comfortable half-embrace. “Rachael, may I introduce my wife, Jamie.”
The matronly woman’s smile faltered slightly. “Jamie, dear, it’s wonderful to see you, too, but, darling, Max and Marsha are already here. You never RSVP’d, you know. Had I but an inkling that you’d actually come, I would never have invited them…”
“It’s all right,” Travis soothed. “I have no intention of allowing Jamie to be shredded in the claws of either viper.”
“Shredded?” Jamie looked up at him with wide eyes.
“Neither will I, darling. I’ll not tolerate such a display of bad manners, not at one of my parties.” She then smacked him in the chest with the back of her hand. “And that, dear boy, is for daring to marry without so much as sending me an invitation.” Looping an arm through Jamie’s and leaving a smiling Travis to trail behind them, Rachael walked her into the well-lit ballroom, where a good hundred people had already assembled. “Stick with me, my dear. I’ll introduce you to absolutely everybody.”
Though he wasn’t always able to stay right by her side, Travis did his best to keep an eye on Jamie. And as the evening progressed, he saw proof again and again of how right he’d been to make her his wife. Her open, honest face was refreshing and disarming when compared to the cloud of insincerity and cynicism that hung over many of the attendees. Even her lingering air of nervousness had a certain charm. And he was not alone in noticing.
As Rachael passed by him at one point, she said, “Enchanting girl, Travis. You have rekindled my faith in your taste in women.”
Despite Jamie’s earlier nervousness, there were moments when she actually seemed to enjoy herself. He happened to be with her when they met Bill Cosby, the event’s entertainment.
Afterwards, Jamie had grabbed his arm, squealing into his shoulder as she did an incredibly unsophisticated little dance. “I just met Bill Cosby!”
Travis couldn’t help but laugh. “Tom Cruise is over by the bar. Would you like me to introduce you?”
She squealed again, but before they could make their way over, Travis was waylaid by a business associate and Rachael arrived to whisk Jamie off for a second round of introductions to a few late-comers.
It was while Travis was still engaged in a polite but somewhat less than interesting debate on the poss
ible ramifications of a merger between two lumber rivals, Marquis Mills and Cole, Barker, and Hemmingway, that Travis looked up to see Marsha and Jamie standing together. The strained look on Jamie’s face put an abrupt end to his conversation.
“Excuse me.” Travis disengaged himself from his two associates and quickly made his way over to his wife and ex.
He skirted the dance floor and dodged Max, who tried to plant himself in Travis’s path, in time to hear Marsha say, “…regular Cinderella, aren’t you? I guess after a lifetime of poverty, one look at his money would be enough to tempt anyone, despite his little eccentricities. Or hasn’t he beaten you yet?”
“Congratulations, sweetheart,” Travis announced as he stepped between them. “You’ve just met Marsha, the only snake in North America more venomous than the Western Coral.”
There was absolutely no expression on Jamie’s face as she stared at Marsha, then turned to look at Travis. “Okay. I see why you slept with it. But why did you marry it?”
“I plead insanity,” Travis said. ‘Those baby blue eyes did me in. They said she was sweet, kind and faithful. And, of course, they lied.”
“Perverted fuck,” Marsha said with false sweetness and walked back to join her husband.
“It’s a filthy mouth,” Travis said as he led Jamie to a less hostile area. “But it was very good at some things.”
“Seriously? You married her because she had blue eyes and gave good head?”
At Jamie’s dry look, he said, “I was young and stupid, and I’m only human. You asked my reasons, I’m being honest.”
“That’s sad. At least I married Dale because I thought I was in love with the son of a—”
Travis kissed her. Suddenly. Thoroughly. “I’ve had my fill of foul-mouthed wives,” he said huskily, his tone both seductive and menacing. “Either you mind your tongue, my love, or I’ll mind it for you. And I don’t think you’ll like my preferred method.”
“All right, darling, break it up.” Rachael swept up to them, regally. “We already have a show planned for dinner. And since the bedrooms upstairs are off-limits, I insist you both behave yourselves until you get home.” She heaved a dramatic sigh. “Newlyweds.”
Linking an arm through each of theirs, she stirred them towards the dining hall and winked at Jamie as she said, “Your husband is notorious for his generosity, though only when the mood strikes him. What are our chances, do you think, dear, of putting him in a mood to significantly lighten his bank book?”
“Maybe if we put Marsha under his section of the table?” Jamie said sweetly, pointedly ignoring the warning look Travis gave her.
***
The dinner was delicious, Bill Cosby was wonderfully funny, Rachael—as she spoke about the needs of the ill-children—tearfully moving, and Jamie spent five thousand dollars of her own money (or what would be her own money just as soon as Travis gave it to her) to renovate the Children’s Hospital on Sand Point Way. In company such as this, five thousand was probably pocket change, but she’d never spent that much on anything before in her life and it felt very liberating to do so.
She didn’t know how much Travis gave Rachael, but the smile she graced him with afterward and the wink she tossed at Jamie, suggested it must have been a handsome sum. As Travis was putting his wallet back in his coat pocket, Jamie made a discrete show of lifting the table cloth.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Just checking.”
“Are you jealous of my ex?”
Jamie shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
“Don’t be. You are by far the better woman.” As the orchestra began to play, Travis asked, “What are my chances of enticing you to dance?”
“Actually, I need to, um…” Jamie made powder-puff dabbing motions at her nose.
“Bathroom?”
“Please.”
He pointed back to one of the ballroom entrances. “Back out that way, turn left and it’s just beyond the stairs.”
“Thanks. Be back in a few.”
Dancing. It had been forever since she’d last been dancing with a man. Jamie hurried off to find the ladies’ room so she could get back as quickly as possible.
The bathroom was lovely, decorated in off creams and gold fixtures and was obviously meant to accommodate large gatherings for it had four sinks and six stalls, much as a restaurant or movie theater might. Though Jamie was alone when she first walked in, as she made herself comfortable in one of the stalls, she heard the bathroom door open and two other women joined her.
“Bought and paid for,” Jamie heard Marsha saying. “That’s what he told Max.”
And another woman tsked, “God, he must be getting desperate.”
Jamie felt her insides run cold. Were they talking about her?
“If I had hair like that, I’d dye it.”
The second woman snorted as she stepped into the stall next to Jamie’s. “If I had a butt that wide, I wouldn’t be displaying it in that dress. Black is slimming, but it’s not a miracle worker.”
“Guess they thought flashy clothes might help convince everyone she’s something other than a fraud.”
A second bathroom stall door closed, the lock turned, and Jamie left the bathroom before either woman emerged again. Her cheeks were burning and her chest felt tight. She almost couldn’t catch her breath.
Fraud.
Bought and paid for.
Could Travis have said that? He must have, nobody else knew.
Jamie felt the burning sting of tears. So much for discretion. She shielded her eyes with one hand as she hurried past the ballroom and the security guards and hastened outside.
“Ma’am?” one of the valets asked. “Would you like your car brought around?”
“No.” Jamie blinked rapidly, trying her best not to cry in front of him. “Can I, um, get a cab, please?”
***
“Darling,” Rachael stated, unexpectedly appearing beside Travis at the bar. She looked up at him unsmiling. “Your new bride just hustled past me with watery eyes. She was headed for the driveway. Damage control might be in order.” The last few words she had to call after him, because Travis was already heading for the door.
He passed the security guards in time to see Jamie duck into the back seat of a cab. He didn’t get down the steps in time and he only just resisted the urge to call after her. There were enough people looking at him curiously as it was.
“Get my car,” he told another valet. When he turned around, it was to see Marsha standing in the doorway.
She smirked. “Lose something?”
His jaw clenched; his hand fisted. He glared at her, but couldn’t trust himself to say anything without losing his temper and making the situation worse.
When Ben drove the limo up to the curb, Travis didn’t wait for anyone to get the door for him. “Home. Hurry.”
Ben ducked his head, looking up the steps for Jamie. “Oh dear,” he said.
They got two speeding tickets on the way home. While they were waiting for the policeman to finish writing out the second, Jamie’s cab passed them on the road. She’d stopped to get Megan, Travis realized. Then covered his eyes with his hand as he also realized that he hadn’t given her a door key.
Sure enough, there was Jamie sitting on the top front porch step, shivering in her backless fifteen-hundred-dollar dress, having apparently forgotten her coat at the party, holding a sound asleep Megan wrapped in a blanket on her lap, and with an irate taxi driver idling in the driveway.
Travis went up the cabby’s window and bent down. “Did she pay you?”
“What do you think I’m still waiting here for?” the man snapped back. “My shift ended ten minutes ago.”
Travis pulled out his wallet and paid the fare plus some. “The extra’s for you. I apologize for the inconvenience; that was my fault.”
“Yeah well…” the driver looked at his tip, his irritation fading as he studied the bills. “Hey, thanks. Now
I’m sorry I yelled at her.”
“Quite all right.” Travis patted the door of the cab and put his wallet away. He took his coat off as he headed for the porch, and without a word, draped it around her shoulders. Then he fished his house keys out of his pocket.
“I didn’t have any money to pay the driver,” she said softly.
“I know.” He opened the door and motioned her inside. “We’ll fix that first thing tomorrow. For right now, why don’t you go put Megan to bed and we’ll do our talking upstairs. All right?”
“I’m very tired,” Jamie said woodenly. “I’m going to bed.”
As she started up the stairs, Travis closed the door, locked it and said, “If you go to bed before we talk, I will drag you out of it.”
“Fine. Whatever you say. I’m bought and paid for anyway, I guess you can pretty much do whatever you want with me.”
“I beg your pardon?” Travis followed her up the stairs. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.” She turned down the hall, carrying Megan to the lavender room. The brand-new crib they had bought that morning had already been assembled and was waiting with freshly made up sheets, Sesame Street blankets and a passel of plush, stuffed animals.
“Says who?” Travis asked, stopping in the doorway.
“You, apparently.”
“I beg your pardon?” Travis repeated, arching both eyebrows in surprise. “I never said that.”
“Then how did she know?” Jamie asked. “She’s telling everyone I’m a fraud, and that you told Max I’m bought and paid for.”
Her voice cracked, but she didn’t look at him. Instead, she covered Megan with the blankets and tried to leave the room.
“I never said that. Not only would I not tell Max the time of day, but I have more respect for you than that.”
“If she was making it up, she knew exactly what to say.” Jamie turned the light off and squeezed between the doorway and him, the sequins on her dress scraping the threshold as she did her best not to touch him.