Loving Shade

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Loving Shade Page 5

by Shayne Ford


  She looks at me as if I ate her lunch.

  I suspect much of what I just said hasn’t register with her.

  She squares her shoulders, getting ready to deliver another blow.

  “Well, you can get philosophical with me all you want. It won’t change the harsh reality. As I said before, if you’re willing to give up on everything so that you can be with this woman, then so be it. I’m not the one to stand in your way.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I ask.

  Putting the cigarette out, I let out a stream of smoke.

  “You will lose access to your money and your privileges if you don’t get your head straight, Shade.”

  I slowly arch an eyebrow.

  “What the fuck are you talking, woman? I’m not a kid, Elia. I don’t get grounded because you don’t like who I fuck.”

  “It’s way more important than you think, Shade. Even Roger agrees with me on this issue. Just because he’s sided with you on one matter doesn’t mean that he’d always be in agreement with you, especially if this thing with Tara Hart gets serious.”

  She pauses.

  I take a long breath, barely reining in my anger and frustration.

  “Why do you insist on turning him against me?”

  “I’m not doing anything. He’s a business man, Shade–– someone you need to learn to be as well if you want to preserve the value of this estate. He didn’t get rich by doing foolish things like you. He’s a practical man. You already know that. And as I said before, he agrees with me when it comes to Tara Hart. You can say whatever you want, but your infatuation with this woman will eventually fade away. And once you fuck her enough, you’ll get her out of your system whether you want it or not.”

  “Hmm. I guess you speak from experience.”

  “That’s uncalled for,” she barks, pursing her lips with frustration.

  I smile.

  “Is it now?”

  Unhurriedly, I uncross my arms and turn my back to her. I pour myself a drink, and slowly, pivot back to her. Holding her gaze, I bring the glass to my lips and take a sip.

  She studies me, curiously.

  Calm, I set the glass on the side table.

  “Listen... We can easily shed some light on this old story. There’s no need to keep guessing,” I say and smile, amused.

  She rips me apart with her eyes.

  “There is no story, Shade.”

  “Oh, I think there is. Many of the things you’ve done over the years, if not all of them, stem from that little secret of yours that you tried to buried. If you are so convinced that there is no story, why don’t we–– Roger, you and I, get together and talk about it?”

  “Why would I drag him into this stupid fantasy of yours?”

  “I wish it were a fantasy, Elia. My life would’ve been so much better. No regrets. No solitude. No second-guessing…”

  I pause before I talk again.

  “Anyway, it’s too late for that now. Besides, I’m no longer in the mood to play this game. I’m sick of pretending that everything is all right when it’s not. There was a reason I lived there for so many years.”

  She starts shaking her head.

  “Chad has done the exact same thing. You don’t see him complaining. And he hasn’t dropped out of school.”

  A small chuckle leaves my lips.

  “Oh, I knew that you’d say that. I was wondering when you would bring him up. Chad had his family with him. They moved over there so they could be close to him. He wasn’t forced into that school the way I was. And unlike me, he got to spend his weekends and vacations with his family.”

  She opens her mouth to say something else when I flick my hand up.

  “I don’t want to hear your shit, Elia. I’m done. I’m ready to know the truth. Whatever the truth is.”

  Her lips begin to quiver as her confidence melts away.

  “There’s no way you are so foolish,” she mutters incredulously.

  “Mmm-hmm. I sure am. And why the hell not?”

  “You have everything to lose, Shade.”

  “So fucking what? I can lose it anyway. What difference does it make?”

  “What exactly are you saying?”

  “It’s what I’ve been saying for so long, darling, and yet you didn’t give a shit. I’ve had enough of your trite, little plots. And I’m sick of having you breathe over my shoulder. Sure as hell, I don’t particularly care for the fact that you tried to turn the woman I love against me. And just so you know, I don’t give a fuck about your threats. I don’t care if I lose something that was never mine, but I do give a damn if you keep screwing with my life. That’s what I’m saying. It’s not as if I haven’t warned you. I have, but it hasn’t registered with you. So here’s your chance to make it right. You pack your bags by the end of the week and go away for a while. Forget about me. And I may forget about you. All right? If not, I suggest you make an appointment with a clinic, and we’ll all learn the truth. You choose. That’s all,” I say and head for the door.

  Calm and collected, I exit the room.

  No vase follows me this time.

  8

  A WEEK LATER

  TARA

  “I’m sorry. There’s no way I can pull this off, Tara.”

  Sunk into the couch, I give Maya a quick once over.

  “Turn around.”

  She twirls, kicking the hem of her gown with her bare foot.

  “Put the shoes on,” I say.

  She slips into a pair of red heels as I take her in. The strapless, tailored dress shows off her slender body, the side slits revealing her sculpted legs.

  “Damn it, Maya. You’ve never looked so good.”

  She turns around and glances in the mirror again, her fingers tugging at her top.

  “Nothing spills out. Don’t worry. There’s a corset sewn in.”

  “It’s red. I’ve never worn a red gown.”

  “It’s a gown... not a disease. And that’s exactly why it looks so good on you. You’ve worn red dresses before.”

  “Not a ball gown. I don’t even look like myself.”

  “And that’s precisely the point. We don’t want to look like ourselves. We want to blend in.”

  “That’s your idea of blending in?” she asks, pursing her lips as she studies her reflection. “I look like a giant strawberry.”

  “No, you don’t. Listen. It’s a posh affair. Everybody dresses like that. And you look fantastic. I don’t know what your problem is. It’s sexy as hell,” I say, pushing up to my feet and erasing the space between us.

  I run my hands through her long hair and brush it all down her back. Glancing in the mirror, I examine her reflection.

  “Your hair looks lovely. I have a set of jewelry that goes perfectly with this dress.”

  I pull out a box from the drawer and retrieve a necklace, earrings, and a wide bracelet.

  A soft quivering claims her fingers as she puts them on.

  “Why are you so nervous?”

  “I’m trying not to be,” she says.

  “Not that it’s working.”

  We lock eyes in the mirror. The color of her dress spills into her complexion.

  “It looks good,” she says, finally conceding.

  “You’re going to be fine. Trust me. I’m just as nervous. I’m sure we are worrying for nothing.”

  “What about his friend? Do you know anything about him?”

  “Chad? No. Not much. I’ve never had the chance to meet him, but he is his best friend. He can’t be that bad,” I say, smiling.

  “Some logic you have,” she mutters, catching sight of my grin.

  “They grew up together, went to the same boarding school. And later on, they attended the same university. Chad is a student at Cambridge.”

  Her body tenses.

  “Is that why you’re so nervous?”

  She gives me a faint smile.

  “It’s not only that. It’s everything,” she says. “The place, this gown
, his friend. Plus, I haven’t been out with someone in a very long time. Not to say, that I haven’t been properly socialized either.”

  I chuckle.

  “You’re not a dog, Maya. All you need to do is talk and smile. Don’t drink too much–– not that you ever do, and please, don’t step on your dress. Now walk for me.” I give her a nudge. “Exercise your strutting. You’ll get comfortable with it. You’ll see.”

  She twirls in front of the mirror and then starts strutting back and forth.

  “Good. It looks great. Keep doing it,” I say before I vanish into the bathroom.

  Half an hour later, I walk back into the living room when the bits and pieces of a phone conversation waft through the air.

  Her voice sounds angry, her heels crying against the kitchen floor.

  Quietly, I close the door and plug in the blow dryer.

  Fifteen minutes later, I’m done with my hair and start putting on my makeup. Moments later, I shrug out of my robe and slip into a black evening gown.

  The door opens.

  “Mmm... That looks good,” she says, behind me. I glance at her in the mirror. Her gaze stalls on my neck. “The neckline is really sexy,” she mutters.

  Jet black, the chiffon gown hugs my breasts, the neckline slanting on one shoulder, rhinestones trimming the waistband.

  A small slit splits the straps over my shoulder, another one––deeper, plunges to my waist. A third one crawls up my leg, revealing my thigh.

  I turn to her.

  “What happened to you?”

  She shrugs.

  “Nothing,” she says, downcast.

  “What did Matt tell you?”

  “Nothing. I mean the usual crap. He’s anxious to sell the house. I understand and all that, but he’s making such a fuss over that. Nothing happens quick enough for him,” she says, annoyed.

  “Forget about him. Soon, he’ll be gone.”

  “That’s true. Gone for good…” she mutters.

  She nods appreciatively as she takes me in.

  I run my eyes down on her.

  “The car is picking us up in a few minutes. Make sure you’re ready,” I say.

  She dashes to the mirror while I pull away. Meticulously, she checks her lips and lashes.

  “How is it?” she asks, locking my gaze in the mirror.

  “You’re good. Breathe... Relax.”

  “It’s easy for you to say,” she says.

  “No, it’s not. I’m sweating bullets.”

  My phone starts ringing.

  “The car is outside, Ms. Hart.”

  We grab our phones and evening clutches, turn off the lights and slip through the main door. A short corridor takes us to the elevator. The doors slide open. Gingerly, we step in.

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” she murmurs, checking her hair in a wall mirror.

  “I can’t believe you’re still talking about it.”

  “When was the last time we went out?”

  “I don’t know. College? Before you got married?” I say.

  “Yeah. I think so. Oh, fuck...”

  I whip my head to her.

  “What happened?”

  She shakes her head.

  “I just remembered. That’s when I met Matt. Remember? It was Shania’s birthday party.”

  “Oh, yeah... I remember.”

  “We looked nothing like this,” she says, a smile stretching across her lips as she relives that moment. “The party was great, the aftermath regrettable,” she says as we share a quiet chuckle.

  The doors peel open before we step into the lobby.

  “Where are we meeting them?” she asks as we near the main door.

  “They are picking us up.”

  She shoots me a puzzled glance.

  I smile.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because you’re so nervous, and I was afraid you’d bail out on me,” I say as I spot the silhouette of a black limousine filling the only available space in front of the entrance.

  “They’re here,” I say.

  She follows the direction of my gaze, the blood draining from her face.

  “Oh, shit...” she mutters as she catches sight of the black limo.

  The light of a warm summer afternoon glows across the tinted windows.

  We float through the main doors and take the few stairs down, our eyes on the car. The driver greets us.

  Simultaneously, the back doors open, and two tuxedo-clad men step out of the luxury ride in what feels like a slow motion movie clip.

  I register Shade’s blonde hair first, and a few strands falling over his eyes. He runs a hand through his hair and brushes it all back. The elegant, tailored jacket falls impeccably on his shoulders and hard torso. A smile rolls on his lips, beaming across his face, reaching his beautiful eyes.

  Maya’s nails dig deep into my arm, speaking of her unbridled panic as a dark-haired man, same height as Shade, sharply dressed like him, strolls around the back of the car and heads to us.

  His pale complexion brightens with a smile, his piercing dark eyes roaming over us, glinting behind a few stray bangs of raven hair.

  Maya looks at him, in awe, shallow breaths rocking her chest.

  Shade makes the introductions.

  “Chad, this is Tara Hart,” he says.

  Chad takes my hand and smoothly brings it to his lips. Placing a feather-like kiss on my knuckles, he briefly reads my eyes. Revelation flashes in his gaze, a small smile curving his lips.

  I pivot to Maya.

  “Chad, this is my friend, Maya Torres.”

  A warm grin narrows his eyes as he takes her in.

  She takes a step closer to him, instantly getting lost in his eyes. Without breaking his stare, he gently brings her small hand to his mouth and presses his lips against her knuckles, overtly gauging her reaction.

  She’s about to pass out.

  A small smile tilts his lips as he straightens and examines her eyes for a few more moments. Still holding her hand, he rolls his bottom lip beneath his teeth.

  Her face turns scarlet like the dress.

  Flushed, she shifts her focus away from him, yet his eyes stay on her.

  “Maya, this is Shade Hennessy.”

  Her eyes glint with curiosity. He gives her a charming smile.

  “I finally get the chance to meet you,” she says, grinning.

  A few moments later, Shade motion us all to the car.

  The men hold the doors open for us.

  Maya walks around and throws me a quick glance as she slips by Chad and vanishes inside. Chad claims the seat next to her on the back bench.

  A hand envelopes mine, and before I can react, Shade’s arm curls around my waist, pulling me flush against his body.

  His lips slide over mine in a soft kiss, enhancing the delicious feeling.

  “I missed you, baby,” he whispers in my ear a moment later..

  We lock eyes for a second, and time stops for us.

  “I missed you too,” I say before he kisses me again.

  Smoothly, he tears away from me and pivots toward the car.

  Turned to stone, I gape at him.

  “Are you coming?” he tosses at me, winking softly.

  I come back to life.

  He stretches his hand out and helps me climb into the car.

  I take a seat across from Chad and Maya while Shade slides next to me. We lock hands as Maya and Chad start to talk to each other.

  A smile beams across Maya’s face as Chad listens to her, drinking her in.

  We watch them in silence.

  Shade rests his fingers on my thigh. I steal a glance at him.

  He fashions a bow tie–– which is unusual for him considering how much he hates the band of fabric tied around his neck.

  The tips of his hair brush his collar, a couple of bangs trailing close to his cheekbones. He glances at me as well, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous smile.

  Shifting his body sligh
tly, he leans closer to me and slowly slides his hand between my knees. His touch ignites a small fire between my legs.

  Pleasure flows through me as he slowly starts to move his fingers, caressing my skin.

  Cheeks burning with a blush, I flick my gaze across from us. Absorbed in their conversation, Maya and Chad seem oblivious to us.

  “You look beautiful,” Shade murmurs in my ear, his voice vibrating all over my skin.

  His lips trace the side of my cheek and leave a soft kiss on my jawline before he buries his lips in my hair and murmurs again.

  “I can’t wait to fuck you...” he says quietly.

  My body starts humming, spurring a deep longing for him in me.

  I clutch his arm, a sharp intake of air flowing into my lungs. A smile pushes to his lips as he registers my reaction.

  Smoothly, he captures my lips into a sensual kiss, his tongue touching mine, sending pleasure through my body.

  I barely push back a moan.

  Splaying my fingers on his neck, I kiss him back, almost forgetting that we are not alone.

  He smoothly breaks our kiss. I run the tip of my tongue onto my lips, still feeding on the taste of him.

  I swing my gaze across from us.

  Chad’s eyes twinkle with a knowing smile as he takes us in.

  Close to seven o’clock in the evening we enter an area with quiet roads, manicured lawns, and homes surrounded by beautiful vegetation. The car slows down and follows a snaking road that takes us through a small forest.

  The limo stops in front of a large gate. Shade rolls the window down and lights up a cigarette. We’re in a long line of limousines waiting to pull in front of an impressive mansion.

  9

  TARA

  “Prosciutto Crostini, Mango Shrimp, and Baked Camembert with sun dried tomatoes,” I say, waiting for the server to fill up my plate.

  “I’m more than happy to share my food with you,” I say, pivoting to Maya.

  She glances at me.

  “Still nervous?” I ask, reading her expression.

  She nods.

  The server smiles as he hands me the plate. I thank him and motion to Maya to taste the food.

 

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