Faces of Love

by Lily Orevba

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Coleen remembered quite clearly the lump that formed in her throat as she watched Gloria walk out of the brothel that night with a smile on her face. It was a smile that filled Coleen with unspeakable fear and dread.

  And her feelings were right.

  Without stopping to breathe, she shoved the last piece of her clothing into the spilling trunk, certain it wouldn’t close. But there were too many precious items in there, none she could even imagine parting with.

  Gloria had threatened to burn down the brothel, and she had done just that. Much more damage than a literal fire could cause, Gloria had set a fire on the brothel which had spread to the entire town. And Coleen knew that she had less than an hour to leave or risk being burned in a real fire.

  She saw the dread in Max’s eyes as he broke the news to her less than an hour ago. Coleen had only just woken up and was about to have her usual morning coffee when Max barged into the kitchen with the news. Gloria had written expository and revealing letters to the wives of her top ranking solicitors, describing her nights with their husbands, giving perfect details of the smallest birthmark the man might have possessed that wasn’t visible to the rest of the public and leaving souvenirs behind: locks of hair, buttons, pocket watches and whatever it was the slimy, conniving ingrate could lay her hands on! Not only that, but Gloria somehow managed to leave her precious treasures in the town’s newspaper publishing house and by the next morning, the whole town was buzzing.

  Coleen knew her business was automatically dead. It was a scandal she knew her brothel could never survive. Gloria did not spare the mayor in her quest for vengeance either. And when all was said and done, the whole town was left to crash and burn and Gloria, the perpetrator, was nowhere to be found.

  Gloria Grande, the town’s fiercest prostitute, had singlehandedly destroyed the entire town and not a single soul was spared her wrath.

  ***

  A smile played at the corners of Gloria’s lips as her body bounced up and down in sync with the movement of the carriage on the bumpy road. She could only imagine the state of the town she had left behind.

  As it was, they were only a few days away from Arkansas, which meant the damage to San Francisco must already be done and every snobbish woman who existed must have had their heads buried in shame.

  Good. Let them crash and burn and may their ashes never be sprinkled, she thought.

  A giggle escaped her lips.

  She could feel both Howard and Stuart’s questioning eyes fixed on her, but she didn’t bother to acknowledge any of them. They wouldn’t understand. Besides, she liked having a secret she could laugh at alone.

  It had taken an entire night to get every woman’s package delivered, but thankfully, Gloria had enough wrath in her to energize her for the task. In every individual letter she penned down, she created a vivid image of every man, every escapade, every money spent, hotel rooms, and time of meeting. There were times those men were drunk enough to entrust her with a family secret, she included every single secret in her letter.

  Gloria was surprised by how much her memory was capable of storing, but she realized that vengeance was a powerful tool, and she was glad for it. She was glad that Coleen would pay a drastic price for cheating Gloria all of these years of her money. She was glad that those perfect housewives with their perfect homes and raised chins as they looked down on her, would finally see how imperfect their entire life really was. They’d see that hated or not, Gloria was the indispensable card in the stack of cards of San Francisco and the day they all decided they were going to pluck her out of the stack, they all came crashing down and she…well, she was safe and sound in a wagon, on her way to her new life.

  It was only then, as she thought of a new life, that she realized what she had done, she agreed to marry Howard! A man she knew next to nothing about. So, maybe she had been too blinded by rage to rethink her decision. Could she turn back now? She should. She should just tell Stuart she made a mistake and she would like to change her mind.

  Then what, Gloria? You have no money and heaven forbids you would end in another brothel, working for another boss as conniving as Coleen, her common sense chided. She hated to admit it, but there was no turning back for she was stuck.

  ***

  EUREKA SPRINGS, ARKANSAS.

  Howard’s eyes searched Gloria’s that evening, his arms wrapped around his new bride. He hadn’t seen the need to wait another day so the moment they arrived town, he took her to the courthouse and they were married.

  Perhaps he had rushed it. A part of him wanted to wait, and find out something about the woman he was agreeing to get married to, but he couldn’t. He found himself longing for Gloria. He found himself wanting to be the husband of this fair-skinned woman whose eyes held the mystery of the world.

  But as his hands roamed the length of her body, he saw no passion in her eyes, just emptiness. She didn’t love him, he knew that, and he didn’t even expect love from her. But he was looking for something, something to show that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. The more he kissed her, the less interested he became in her. She laid there, doing and saying nothing. It made him feel despised by her.

  Frustrated, he pushed himself off of her and reached for his clothes. Pulling his shirt over his head, he fought the desire to frown. Fully dressed, he turned and made for the door. He was halfway to the door when she finally spoke, “Going so soon, Howard?”

  He turned around to find her with a cocky smile on her face as she lay naked on the bed. She reminded him of a prostitute, and the longer he stared at her, the more disgusted he got.

  This was not the marriage he bargained for.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “She absolutely despises me. She cannot bear the thought of being around me. She hates me!” Howard threw his hands in the air in surrender. He paced the length of the study, the sound of his heavy boots on the wooden floors reverberating throughout the house. “Three weeks! Still, I cannot get her to look at me like I’m human. I am absolutely convinced I married a woman without a heart.”

  Howard was tired. He was married to a woman who treated him like the plague. Three weeks and he still couldn’t share the beauty of intimacy with Gloria. Whenever he tried—and he did try a lot—he would give up and withdraw as shame washed over him. It was the same feeling that filled him whenever he visited a brothel—the feeling of being with a prostitute.

  Howard was loved by the townsfolk. He saw the way the women practically adored him and he saw the disappointment in their eyes when the news of his marriage spread around town, yet the woman he chose to be with, chose to despise him.

  “Do you know the worst part, Father?”

  Stuart glanced up a little to acknowledge him briefly before glancing back down at the pile of paper on his desk, a pen in hand.

  “She doesn’t withhold herself from me. Yet, I feel like she is withholding everything.”

  What sort of woman was Gloria? She gave him her body, yet withheld her heart. She closed her heart—if she had one—to any notion of feelings toward him. The woman was cold-hearted.

  Frustrated, he stomped over to where his father sat and propped himself angrily on a chair. He didn’t think he could continue with the marriage. He had been complaining for over an hour, but Stuart sat there, barely even paying attention to him. Normally, Howard would feel offended by his father’s aloofness, but he wasn’t; he needed somewhere to vent. Stuart was his only option.

  Did he make a terrible mistake by choosing to marry a woman he knew nothing about? If only he weren’t such an idiot! If only he had waited to get to know her first. But no! He chose instead to be captivated by her deceptive beauty, which was strong enough to draw you in and powerful enough to make you want to kill yourself.

  Stuart finally dropped his pen on the pile of paper and glanced up, tired brown eyes coming to rest on him. Howard usually attributed his father’s tiredness to old age, but lately, it seemed to fill him with worry.r />
  “Have you tried talking to her?” Stuart asked, before rising to his feet and heading for the door.

  “What?!” Howard couldn’t say he had control over his temper as he glared at his father as he exited the study and slammed the door behind him.

  Talk? Talk! Howard knew that talking would do no good. Talking to Gloria would have done as much good as talking to a wooden door and telling it to move. It was simply useless! She didn’t have a single reasonable bone in her body. Yet, his father’s solution to his problem was talking!

  Fine!

  He pushed himself off of the chair and pushed it backward in anger, the wooden chair crashing hard against the wall.

  He’d talk. In fact, he’d do so much more than talking; he’d give Gloria a piece of his mind, and Gloria could bet her selfish life on it that she was going to listen!

  ***

  Gloria leaned back heavily against the tree’s branch and folded her legs, her eyelids pulling close as the scent of green leaves and green grass filled her nostrils, giving her an illusion of peace.

  It had been ages since she had been on a tree, but she remembered quite well her love for climbing trees while staring at the birds and wishing she could fly. Her love for trees had filled her mother with fear that no man would consider her for a wife but her father had teased that no man would be able to resist her beauty: her green eyes, sparkling white skin and charcoal hair that contrasted with her skin so perfectly. Her parents looked forward to the day that their precious gem would be someone’s wife and would have a fairy tale story of her own. How her life had moved from being close to perfect, to a brothel, and finally to an actual marriage, she had no idea.

  Coleen would gorge her eyes out if she had slightest clue of the kind of life Gloria now had. A life in a mansion, fine cuisine, expensive clothes, and the best carriages. The best part was the way the townsfolk practically worshipped her. They didn’t treat her like trash; they stared at her in awe.

  It was a life Gloria didn’t think in a million years she would ever have, yet, here she sat, married and not just to any man but to a man who wanted so much more than her body, to a man who wanted her love.

  Unfortunately, love was nothing but a myth to Gloria. She tried it once with a man named Marcus: charming looks, impeccable smile, and a lying tongue. After promising to run off with her so she could have a life outside the brothel and marry her, he ended up stealing from her and leaving her behind.

  She saw men claim to love their wives, yet, chose her to spend their nights and money on. She saw men take advantage of little girls who could pass off as their daughters. Love was not a thing Gloria was willing to commit to.

  But, Howard longed for it. It had taken her a while but she finally realized his desire, a desire she could never fulfil for unknown to him, he was married to a prostitute who was completely incapable of feelings, no matter how hard she tried. She would…

  “Gloria!”

  The sound of her name broke through her thoughts. She listened closely and true enough, she heard it again. Someone was beckoning her.

  Her eyelids pulled open and her eyes scanned her surroundings in search of the source of the sound. As the intruder drew near, she recognized the voice as Howard’s and minutes later, he was standing by the foot of the tree, glaring up at her.

  “Get yourself off of that tree, we need to talk.”

  She didn’t know why, but his announcement filled her with dread.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Why don’t you join me up here, Howard?” she teased, peeking down the branch at him.

  A frown creased Howard’s face as he glared up at her. His chin, dented with a dimple, was pointed upwards, his sun-kissed skin glowed with sweat, and his curly brown hair seemed messy today. In summary, Howard was a handsome man. It was a fact Gloria knew of. She noticed the way the women looked at him the last time they were in town together, but she didn’t care.

  Noticing he ignored her invitation, she heaved a breath and began climbing down the tree, making sure to avoid the hem of her skirt for fear she would come tumbling down as a result. Howard stood at the foot of the tree, arms outstretched as she approached. He wrapped his arms around her waist and helped her settle on her feet.

  Once down, he placed his hand on her waist and ushered her away from the small gathering of trees. The house stood at a far distance, but Howard didn’t utter a single word until they had made their way through the house and into their bedroom. Then, he shut the door behind him and turned to her.

  “Mind telling me what this is about?”

  Gloria stared at him, half expecting him to rip her clothes off, but he stood there, passion in his eyes, glaring at her.

  She waited a few seconds for him to elaborate on his question.

  When no further explanation was forthcoming, she sighed. “What?”

  “This!” He growled. “This! Us! What are we about? Because I fail to understand.” She quirked a brow, maintaining eye contact with him. “Do you despise me, Gloria?”

  “Why on earth would you think that?”

  “Well, for starters, let’s see…you, Gloria, are cold. Distant! Unapproachable! Hard-hearted! Selfish! Inconsiderate…”

  Gloria would have laughed but bit down on her lower lip instead. She didn’t feel like having a conversation with a spoiled child, but obviously, Howard felt the need for a pity party, and she was required to attend, whether she wanted to or not.

  So she stood there, saying nothing while listening to him whine about her selfishness; what sort of woman held back her feelings from her husband? What sort of woman didn’t respond to his kisses? What sort of woman lay unmoving while he tried to be intimate with her?

  “Maybe we should end this. This―whatever this is.”

  Gloria almost considered his request but knew she couldn’t. She needed him. She was paid to marry him, and she needed to stay married if she was going to walk out of here with any money.

  Howard obviously wanted her but was too proud to take her when she sat unmoving. It hurt his ego. So, she needed to treat him like some of her solicitors in San Francisco. They were men who paid for her services but got cold feet before they got their money’s worth. Gloria had walked away from the first man she encountered like that, and Coleen had been furious. According to Coleen, it was the client’s job to pay for Gloria’s services, and it was Gloria’s job to convince them to take it.

  Perhaps Howard needed some convincing.

  A smile played at the corners of her lips as she took measured steps toward him. His eyelids grew a notch as her palm came to rest on his chest, and in a matter of seconds both her hands were working to take off his shirt’s buttons. She successfully slid off his shirt, maintaining eye contact with him. She could tell he doubted her motives, but he said nothing, his eyes holding her gaze as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

  She ran her hands up and down his bare chest, her mind taking note of every dent in his body. She reached down, her hands finding his belt and working to take it off. If she could give him what he wanted, he’d let her carry on with her day in peace and hopefully, her year.

  She was about to pull off his belt when his hands took hold of her face, and he captured her lips. She kissed him in return, her hands pressed against his chest.

  “What do you feel, Gloria?” she heard his breathless whisper against her neck, but she didn’t respond. Gloria had always despised talking and working. When she had a job to do, she went right to it, looking forward to when it ends. “Gloria?”

  Irritated, she leaned further into him and pressed her lips to his, if only to shut him up.

  He pulled away, his eyes questioning her. “What do you feel?” he asked once more.

  Gloria had never, in all her life, been resisted by any man; neither had she ever met a man who wanted to talk rather than sleep with her.

  She wanted to yell at him, and tell him she felt nothing! The only thing she was capable of feeling was hunger, ang
er, and on rare occasions, passion. If he wanted love, he could look elsewhere.

  “Does it matter?” She offered a flirtatious smile, her finger drawing an invisible line down his chest. “Hmm?” She purred, leaning forward and reaching for his lips.

  Howard stepped aside, and but for the timely realization of his rejection, she would have fallen forward. Offended, she watched as he scrambled for his shirt that was lying carelessly across the room. He shrugged on his shirt and quickly buttoned it.

  “Howard!” she yelled as he made for the door.

  He stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn around. “It does,” he whispered. “It matters.” He pulled the door wide open and walked out.

  For the first time in Gloria’s life, she had failed to satisfy a man. It was a realization that filled her with a despicable feeling of defeat and a desperate desire to be the one to conquer Howard, and she was certain it would be a conquest that wouldn’t require love.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Gloria’s gaze remained fixed on Howard as they sat on the dinner table that evening, willing him to glance up at her. But, he was unyielding. His head remained bowed over his bowl of soup as he feigned ignorance of her scrutiny.

  He hadn’t said a word to her since the incident earlier in the day when he practically stormed out on her in the middle of a well thought out seduction.

  Gloria couldn’t say she was experienced in the seduction of men—having never been faced with the need to learn—but Howard’s rejection left her musing on the many ways to drag him to his knees before her, begging and worshipping her as was expected of every man that ever came in contact with her. And Howard was not going to be an exception. He’d have a taste of her and be left burning with the desire to come back for more. It would be a desire that would drive him to madness, and finally, after a year of a job well done, she’d walk out of the door, triumphant.