by Lonnie Doris
“Because, Helena, your father has a social status that must be maintained, and this is what we do in our world. You’ll see. Your future husband has a position in society as well, and you will have to do these events for both him and your future children.”
“Please don’t start planning children that may or may not happen in my future,” I scoff and turn to walk into my bathroom. A shudder runs through me at the thought of having anyone’s child but Shane’s.
“Helena…” I hear my mother say, but I shut the door to drown out the sound of her annoying voice.
Standing there looking in the mirror, I decide that with this new life, it is time for a change. First, change in hair color. I think strawberry blond will accent my skin tone. Then, this damn birthmark. I may not be able to have it removed, but I’m not walking out my front door without it covered again.
Reginald thinks it’s adorable. Who the fuck says that? Adorable. He says it makes me unique and I shouldn’t worry about it. For a while, I think I was starting to believe him. Looking at it now, uncovered, it is hideous.
I pull out my makeup bag and begin working on making it go away.
I am taking one last look at myself in the full-length mirror in my bedroom when I hear a knock at my door.
“Helena, sweetie, may I come in?” my father asks.
I walk over to the door and open it for him. I had locked it earlier to keep Mother out. I’m grown and do not need her to help me dress or tell me how to do my makeup. I really can’t wait to get out of this house. No more daily lectures about where I should go in life, how I should dress for appearance’s sake, and all her other bullshit.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Are you ready, sweetie?”
“I am. May I have a minute with you before we head downstairs?” I ask, motioning him to come farther into my room. Once he is standing next to my dresser, I close the door behind him.
“Daddy, I love you. Thank you for escorting me downstairs this evening.”
“Sweetie, is something bothering you?”
“I guess I’m a little nervous, that’s all.” I put a small hitch in my voice, knowing it will get the effect I need.
I know exactly how to wrap my daddy around my finger. If he thinks I’m nervous or anxious, he will keep Mother from making it worse for me.
“Did you take your medicine today?” he asks.
“Yes, Daddy,” I lie. I hate taking those damn pills for my bipolar, and I haven’t in a long, long time.
He wraps me in a hug. “I’ll be right there if you need me tonight. Just give me the signal. You’ll always be my little sweetie.”
Daddy and I came up with a signal years ago. If I was ever at one of these stupid parties Mother was throwing and I got anxious, I would twirl my hair, and he would stop whatever conversation he was in to come rescue me. I figured out at a young age how to use my illness to my advantage with Daddy.
“Thanks, Daddy,” I murmur softly when he releases me and kisses my forehead.
He extends his arm to me, and I place mine in his to take this walk down the staircase. Thankfully, Mother listened to me when I asked for a dress that was only long in the back. My biggest fear has always been tripping over a long dress as I make an entrance.
I have to say, the dress Mother picked for this event is incredibly beautiful. I love how it sits off my shoulders and swoops down to accent my cleavage. And the color, silver with black accent crystals, makes me feel like a diamond worthy of a rocker.
Worthy of Shane.
Daddy and I are standing at the top of the staircase when I take one more last breath to steady myself. I’m not nervous for any reason other than I don’t like these things. I wish my mother would just accept it and move on to another reason to throw a party. One that doesn’t involve me or even have anything to do with me in general so I don’t have to attend the damn things.
Then I see Reginald waiting for me as Daddy and I descend the stairs. He looks so handsome in his black tuxedo with a silver tie. I guess Mother made him coordinate with my dress. Any woman would be lucky to have him as a husband, but for me, he is just a stepping-stone on my path.
We reach the bottom of the staircase, and Daddy hands me off to Reginald.
“You look exquisite, darling,” Reginald says as he takes my hand and kisses it gently.
“You do too, my love.” I’ve gotten used to calling him that, but it still makes my stomach clench with distaste at the lie. Shane is my only love.
Daddy walks ahead of us, giving us this moment. I hear him announce our entrance to the waiting guests as we walk behind him. Everyone in the large sitting room turns their attention on us as we step inside. We begin to mingle, accepting congratulations from all of Daddy’s colleagues. I recognize a few of them from over the years of Mother putting on these stupid dinner parties. I don’t know any of them personally and have never wanted to.
Daddy tells the guests that dinner will be served shortly and asks everyone to make their way to the backyard. Mother has had the backyard converted into a dining area just for this evening. It’s actually incredibly pretty. The backdrop of the ocean with the twinkling lights hanging from the tented areas gives it an almost magical feel. It makes me long for Shane to be there with me so we could enjoy the beauty of the moment together.
Reginald and I take our seats at the head table, joining Daddy and Mother. Daddy sits to my right, with Mother next to him. He did that to make himself a barrier between Mother and me. I really believe he is always on my side, even though he may not speak up.
I only have to twirl my hair once the whole evening when Mother is droning on and on over what a lovely bride I am going to make and how she hopes I will quickly start a family. True to form, Daddy comes to my rescue and whisks me away to the dance floor Mother had created directly off the dining area.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
“No thanks necessary, sweetie,” he says as he twirls me around.
Daddy makes a speech at the end of the night, thanking everyone for coming out to celebrate his beautiful daughter and future son-in-law. Mother is incredibly pleased with the success of the evening. It may come as a shock, but I agree with her. The evening was a success, except for the one thing missing. My Shane. I know he is upset this is one more step that ties me to another man.
Not for long, though. I will make this sacrifice for him. For our future. I’m always yours, Shane. Always. I send my silent message to him. I’ll make it up to you.
Five
Mira and I meet for dinner the evening after she arrives back in LA. I am excited to see her. We haven’t spent much time together since we graduated. She went back to spend time with her family, and I came back to mine. Then I began my Demon’s Wings adventure.
“When do you start this amazing new job as a publicist?” I ask as we sip our cocktails.
“Next week, officially. But I went to the office today to meet everyone and see my office.”
“I’m really happy for you. And I’m glad you landed a job that has brought you to LA.”
What I’m really glad about is that she has handed me the keys to Demon’s Wings so easily. My best friend has no clue just how happy I really am.
“Me too. I’ve missed hanging out with you.”
“Weekly wine nights are a must for us,” I say, raising my glass to toast her. Not that I really care about hanging out with Mira on a weekly basis, but it serves a purpose. I will have her talking in no time about the juicy gossip she will have to cover up for Demon’s Wings. Most importantly, Shane. I need to know every detail of his day-to-day, if possible. And hopefully she will give me some dirt on Emmie that I will be able to use to get back at that stupid slut. I ache to ruin her life and make her suffer for every day she has kept me from Shane.
The next few months go by in a whirlwind. Between the planning of my wedding to Reginald, the stress my mother puts me through during the process, and my weekly wine nights with Mira, I am beyond exhausted. I rel
uctantly started taking my medicine again, just so I can keep up with everything. As much as I hate taking the meds, I knew it was the only way I could get myself through all of this.
But finally, that is all behind me. Reginald and I are married. We honeymooned in Antigua, and for a very brief time, I genuinely felt some sort of happiness—despite missing Shane the whole time and wishing he were beside me instead of my for-now husband. Living the life of a magazine editor’s wife has its high points. I travel with Reginald when he has to get behind-the-scenes material of bands.
Life at home with Reginald is quiet. He works long hours at the office, which leaves me to shop or spend the afternoon at the spa. I, along with my parents, convinced him to hire my cousin Sean at the magazine shortly after we got married. Once Reginald proposed, it was easy to get my parents off my back about finding a job. That was when my parents turned their sights on Sean’s future since they practically raised him.
Mira has been basically a wealth of useless knowledge for months when it comes to Shane and Emmie. He’s been seen out with the same girl the paps spotted him with after my engagement was announced. He looks miserable in the pictures. The smile on his face is about as fake as the girl who is always with him. Fake in the way that no one can be that plain. He is punishing himself for not coming after me. Soon, Shane. We’ll be together again.
Until the night Mira tells me about him asking the gold digger to marry him.
“Can you believe the manwhore himself is getting married?” Mira exclaims with an annoying giggle. “And she even works for your husband.”
I almost choke on the last part. Harper Jones works for Reginald? Why did I not know this?
“She works at Rock America?” I ask, keeping my surprise to myself.
“That’s what I hear. Actually, I think she just got a promotion and is one of the editors now. Rumor has it she is going to give Rock America the inside scoop on the wedding.”
“Well, that should be great for sales.” I’m at a loss for words.
Shane is going to marry her. That is the ultimate kick in the gut from him. Going out on the town with her, landing on the cover of tabloids, all of that was just Shane acting out for what I had done by marrying Reginald. He must think I have given up on him.
I haven’t given up on you, Shane. Just a little bit longer and we will be together.
Somehow, I have got to break up this relationship. And I know the exact person to help me. I pull out my phone and call Sean.
“Hey, cousin. I need your help,” I say as I exit my vehicle and walk into my house.
--
When Sean arrives at my house, I greet him at the door. “How come you didn’t tell me about Harper Jones working at Rock America?” I demand with my hands on my hips.
“I honestly didn’t know about her.” He huffs. “She has been working in New York and just recently transferred out here. Not to mention, she took my job.” He storms past me to enter the house.
“Wait, what are you talking about, she took your job?” I ask as I follow him inside, puzzled by this information.
“Yeah.” He turns around, glaring. “I’m her assistant. I thought for sure I was getting the editor’s job.”
“I’m sorry, Sean. I don’t understand how Reginald could do that to you.” I hug him. “But still, why didn’t you come to me? I would have fixed this and made Reginald give you the job you have worked so hard for.”
“Honestly, I’ve been so upset that I didn’t think about coming to you.”
“Sean, we have to do something. This little plain Jane is a thorn in my side.”
Sean and I walk into the kitchen, and I pour us each a glass of wine.
“We’ll handle this together. The whole lot of them won’t know what hit them,” I say, handing him a glass. “We will bring their lives crashing down around them.” We clink our glasses together.
Six
“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mr. and Mrs. Shane Stevenson!”
I sip my glass of champagne, while around me, the lights go out, and a spotlight shines on the dance floor. I press my lips together as Shane Stevenson pulls his new wife into his arms and the first notes of John Legend’s “All of Me” fill the air. I watch with a roll of my eyes as Harper’s chin trembles before her husband holds her close and they dance their first dance together as husband and wife.
What does he see in that plain little nobody? It’s a thought I’ve had more than once in the last two years. In fact, I’ve asked myself that from the moment I saw that first picture of the man I loved with his “first girlfriend,” as the paps had called her. With her caramel hair that is more on the blond side, her thin body, small chest, and fat ass, she is definitely not the usual type Shane goes for. That’s probably the appeal then, I figure.
He is still pissed at me, so he wanted someone as unlike me as he could find. He’s succeeded, but fuck, he didn’t have to take it this far.
The paps, like always, had gotten it wrong, though. I was Shane Stevenson’s first girlfriend, his first love. His only love. If it hadn’t been for a certain conniving little bitch, Shane and I would still be together, and Harper Jones—Harper Stevenson, now—would never have entered the picture. This would have been my wedding, and I never would have had to endure the one my mother made me suffer through to marry Reginald. That would be me out there in that too-beautiful dress being sung to by the drop-dead sexy rocker, his deep voice mixing perfectly with John Legend’s.
My drink is empty before the song is even half over, and I take a fresh glass from a waiter who has paused while the bride and groom dance. If you asked me if the wedding had been beautiful, I couldn’t have told you. No one but close family and friends were invited to the actual ceremony. The reception, however, is the party to end all parties.
I hadn’t been surprised when I’d gotten the invitation in the mail. I’d known from the moment Shane had announced to the world he was marrying his plain mouse of a girlfriend that I would get that little piece of mail. As punishments went, marrying someone else to get back at me was pushing the line, but I could forgive him.
Had forgiven him.
Hell, I could forgive him anything, and he knows it.
He, however, has yet to forgive me for marrying someone else.
But he will.
Eventually.
Shane has been angry. He’d gone wild two years ago when I’d announced my engagement. The tabloids and more reputable weekly magazines had shown him getting drunk on a nightly basis and then getting into a fight at a nightclub. That same night, he’d been spotted with Harper Jones, so I had only myself to blame for their relationship, and I hadn’t been upset when the two had become a couple. I’d known he was just trying to get back at me.
Which is exactly what he did today by marrying the little gold-digging nobody slut.
Once again, I remind myself I have no right to get mad or feel hurt, but of course, I am. I hate the thought of him with her, telling her he loves her, maybe even giving her a baby. If they do have a kid before we can get back together, there is no fucking way that kid is going to come to live with us. Harper can keep the little brat, and I will give Shane at least one—maybe two if he begs.
Just like I know my own marriage won’t last, I am sure Shane’s marriage to Harper won’t either. My marriage to Reginald was just to pacify my parents until they died…or he did. At first, I’d thought about divorcing him after a while to appease Mother, but Reginald had made me sign a stupid prenuptial agreement that basically left me with nothing if I were to divorce him. Not that I care about getting anything from him, but my parents had already been bitching when I’d slipped up once and said something about divorce. So unless one of them or Reginald dies first, I am stuck for the moment. But as soon as my parents are gone, I will divorce the man and marry the one I really want—the one I should have been with all along. Shane will do the same when he knows I’m free.
Then we will finally be together.
&nbs
p; Like we were supposed to be four years ago.
The lights come back up with the last strings of the song, and my gaze goes past Shane and his bride to the redhead standing just behind them on the edge of the dance floor. Emmie Jameson—now Emmie Armstrong—is standing with a bright smile on her face next to her husband and daughter. For the first time all day, my anger starts to bubble up, and I clench the delicate stem of the champagne flute hard, nearly breaking the expensive crystal.
Time after time, precious little Emmie has kept me from being with Shane. It is her fault Shane and I aren’t together now, and I will never forgive the conniving little bitch for stepping in our way. Once Shane knows how his adopted little sister has stood in our way, once I am free and tell him how she’s kept us apart, I know he won’t forgive her either.
That smile will be gone forever from that little cunt’s beautiful face. I will never let Shane see her again, not that he will want to once he knows what she did to us.
“You’re thirsty this evening, aren’t you, darling?”
I force a smile to my lips as I tilt my head back to look up at Reginald. My husband is a very good-looking man, with dark eyes and a slightly sun-kissed complexion. He works out religiously, or I wouldn’t be able to stand for him to touch me. But it was his money, and only his money and all those expensive presents he gave me every day, that had tempted me when my parents had started making noises about disinheriting me.
“I am, my love,” I murmur with a small smile that I know looks adoring. I’d stood in front of my mirror until I perfected that particular look. The more Reginald thought I loved him, the more money he spent on me. “Do you mind?”
He steps closer and presses a kiss to my temple. “Of course not, darling. Drink as much as you want. Stevenson has pulled out all the stops for Harper.”
For the next few hours, I drink as much of the expensive champagne as I can get my hands on and dance with my husband as well as several other guests. I am even gracious enough to pause long enough to congratulate the happy couple.
