Taming Mariella

by Dara Girard

  “You don’t know if you won’t talk to him.”

  “I can’t face the rejection. I can’t give him the power to reject me.”

  “But if you don’t take the risk, you may be losing something precious.”

  “I’ve already lost it.” She dabbed her lip with a napkin. “I love him. He has my heart and he can destroy me. He has a power over me that I hate admitting.”

  “Loving someone isn’t like being a loser in a battle.”

  “It is to me. I like being in control. I like being the strong one. I don’t like being vulnerable to anyone. You don’t understand, Isabella. Men don’t fall in love with women like me. Not really. We’re fun for a time and nice to look at and nice to own, but they don’t love us. Not the way Alex loves you.”

  “Mariella, when you two were here I saw how he looked at you. I think he cares about you more than you think.”

  “No, the moment I started modeling again he left.” She wiped her tears away, gathering courage. “I’m going to fight this and I’m going to forget him. I’m sorry this happened, but I won’t apologize.”

  “What about the gallery showing?”

  “I’ll arrive late and leave early. He’ll ignore me. That’s his way of teaching me a lesson.”

  “I still think you should call him. He might not have supported your modeling, but he does deserve an explanation. I know you hate that, but it’s time to grow up. You make mistakes, you have to admit them.”

  Shirley stared at the closed door of Ian’s darkroom. He’d been in there for hours. She knew it was his hideaway and was sorry that he felt the need to hide from her. If there was one thing she could teach him it was how to deal with betrayal and heartache. But she wondered if one could ever fix a broken heart.

  Her divorce had left her bitter and made it difficult to believe in love. It was even harder to believe in it when one had been married to an egotistical womanizer with a God complex. Shirley Cooper knew Otis was nothing like Jeremiah. Otis didn’t have Jeremiah’s wandering eye or his brilliance and Otis was rich and she wanted to enjoy the life she’d become accustomed to. But she feared once they were married he’d lose interest in her. She couldn’t compete with younger women and damn it, after sixty-some years and two kids she shouldn’t have to. She wasn’t afraid of growing older. She was afraid of trusting again. Of letting herself become vulnerable again. Her judgment had been so poor before and she didn’t want to make that mistake again and she didn’t want to see Ian make that mistake either.

  She slept soundly that night, then woke up to the sound of roaring engines. She opened her balcony window and saw Otis climbing down from a helicopter ladder.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Shirley, I need to talk to you.”

  “You could get killed.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m dying without you by my side.”

  “Don’t be silly.”

  He signaled to the helicopter. Rose petals fell around them. “I can’t fix your past, but I can promise you a future filled with my love. I love you, Shirley, and I want you to be my wife.”

  “I’m frightened.”

  “Honey, I’m frightened now, but I’m willing to take the risk because I love you so much.”

  “I love you too. Now get down from there so I can show you my answer.”

  “It’d better be a yes.”

  “I promise it will be much, much more.”

  “How much do you think she got for it?” Josh asked as he and Ian sat in his office. Although Ian had told him about their mother’s upcoming nuptials yesterday’s story still occupied Josh’s thoughts.

  “I don’t care,” Ian said. Of course that was a lie. He was trying not to remember the sight of Mariella teasing him in the woods of Vermont and promising him that no one would see the picture. And he felt stupid that he had believed her.

  “I told you not to trust her.”

  “I know.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “First I’m going to hand the magazine over to you, then I’m going to take my camera into the most dangerous war zone I can find and try to get myself shot.”

  Josh stared at him, appalled. “What?”

  “Then perhaps I can get away from you telling me ‘I told you so’ every ten minutes.”

  Josh frowned. “That’s not funny.”

  “I’m not trying to be funny.”

  “You have to do something.”

  Ian shrugged. “I’m trying to work, but you keep talking.”

  Josh looked around for someone to share his frustration, but only saw Sylvester and Candy. Then someone knocked.

  “Come in,” Ian said.

  Nelson came into the room, but before he could speak Josh pounced on him. “Ah, Nelson, just the man I need.”

  Nelson sent him a weary glance. “Yes?”

  “What do you think about that picture and story of my brother in the paper?”

  Nelson glanced at Ian then back at Josh and nervously cleared his throat. “I don’t think anything.”

  “Come on, you can be honest—it won’t cost you your job.”

  “I’d really prefer not to say anything.”

  Serita came up behind Nelson. “Um, Mr. Cooper.”

  Josh looked at her with hope. “Serita, you can be honest with me. What did you think of the story about my brother and the picture?”

  “I didn’t think anything.”

  His face fell. “What?”

  “They got the story wrong and besides, it’s just a picture.”

  Ian stared at her as though she’d just unraveled a mystery. “It’s just a picture?” he echoed.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes,” Ian said. Suddenly everything clicked: Jeremiah, the magazine, the will—it all made sense. He finally saw what his father wanted him to see all along. Images were only as powerful as you made them; life wasn’t black and white.

  Serita sent Josh a worried look. “Are you okay, Mr. Cooper?”

  He slapped his forehead. “I’ve been an idiot.” He jumped to his feet. “I have to get started.”

  “On what?”

  “My plan.”

  “But what about Mariella?”

  “Don’t worry, when Mariella shows up at the gallery I’ll be ready for her.”

  “You think she’ll come?”

  “I know she will.”

  Chapter 20

  The night of the gallery opening was a success. Everyone who was of any importance in New York was at the opening. Most of the women were adorned in expensive jewelry and gowns, and the men either in black tie or smartly fitted Italian suits. When Mariella entered all eyes were on her. She was dressed in a ruffled designer gown that accentuated her figure. Her hair was in flat double-twist, swept upwards and held in place with an emerald-and-pearl hair comb.

  Mariella was aware of the eyes following her, but waited for the gaze of only one man. She walked through the exhibit, impressed with what Ian had done. The gallery space was large and open, with photographs displayed in see-through plastic frames suspended from the ceiling. A labyrinth of freestanding walls created a maze through which guests walked looking at enormous blowups of photos, juxtaposed against floor-to-ceiling colorful abstract sculptures.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” someone said.

  “It’s marvelous,” another replied.

  Mariella accepted a champagne glass and silently toasted Jeremiah. She knew he would be proud. But the comments and congratulatory shakes meant nothing to her. There was only one person she wanted to see. She wanted a chance to explain. She needed one.

  When she finally saw Ian across the room she froze, but when he looked right at her without any recognition she could feel herself wither inside. She finished the contents of her champagne, gathering courage. No matter how he looked at her, she would tell him the truth. He deserved that much. She gave the glass to a passing waiter then headed toward him.

  “It’s wonderful!�
� Isabella said, seizing her arm.

  “She’s been saying that nonstop,” Alex said.

  Mariella hugged them. “I’m glad you two could make it.”

  “And I’m glad that you and Ian patched things up.”

  Mariella frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “The wing dedicated to all your photographs.”

  “That’s just part of Jeremiah’s project.”

  “No, it isn’t. Come on.” Isabella grabbed her sister’s hand and led her to a separate area crowded with visitors. In large letters it read: The Mariella Duvall Collection. Ian had taken her “extra” pictures, the ones he had refused to include in the project, the pictures of Teresa in Georgia, the sunsets in Vermont and others.

  “I don’t understand,” Mariella said breathlessly.

  “Neither do I,” Josh said from behind them, “But Ian insisted. He said he wanted to give you what you wanted.”

  Mariella turned and raced out of the room. She weaved her way through the crush of people hoping to spot Ian, where she’d last seen him. But he was nowhere to be found. Tears of frustration gathered in her eyes. Everyone else thought tonight was a triumph, she’d completed the last works of Jeremiah Cooper and had her first gallery showing, but she saw it as a mockery. All that she had hoped and dreamed for seemed empty without the one person she wanted to share it with.

  She retrieved her coat and left. She was tired of pretending to smile; tired of pretending she didn’t care. She was tired of pretending full stop. She pushed open the front glass doors and stormed down the stairs wanting to punch Ian in the nose and say: Why did you do this to me? Why did you have to make me care until it hurt? Why? Why did you make loving you one of the worst decisions of my life?

  “That’s not very nice,” a deep voice said above her.

  Mariella spun around and saw Ian standing at the top of the stairs. It had been so long since she’d last seen him she wasn’t sure it was him at first. Something about him had changed. He still wore black and she could hardly distinguish him from the night sky. He still had a low voice that could rip through silence and eyes that burned with intensity. And yet…there was something different about him. Mariella gripped the handle of her purse knowing there was no use trying to analyze a man she would never understand. “What’s not nice?”

  He walked toward her. “You shouldn’t leave so soon.”

  She swallowed, her heart racing, making breathing difficult, but she did not move. “There’s no reason to stay.”

  He stopped a step above her. “I thought I’d created plenty of reason. Didn’t you like my surprise?” “No.”

  He looked startled. “No?” He gestured to the building. “I thought this is what you wanted.”

  “Then you don’t know me very well. You’re not even angry.”

  “Why should I be angry?”

  “Because of the picture in the paper.”

  “Mariella—”

  “At least if you were angry with me I’d know you cared. Instead you’re punishing me by pretending that nothing happened, that I hadn’t betrayed your trust. You’re treating me like…like someone who doesn’t matter to you. That what we shared was nothing.” Her voice trembled and tears stung her eyes. “And I’m not going to cry because I won’t let you make me cry.” She angrily wiped away a tear. “You wanted to hurt me and it’s working. I only came here today to tell you how sorry I am and ask your forgiveness.”

  “Mariella—”

  “And I hate asking for forgiveness. Especially when I’m so angry at you. How dare you tell me what to do. I’m a woman with an independent mind, but I’m also a woman who loves you, but since that’s not enough I hope I never see you again.” She turned and headed down the rest of the stairs.

  Ian jumped in front of her. “I made a mistake.”

  She halted. “What?”

  “You’re right. I shouldn’t have told you what to do with your life because of my own…” He shook his head, not finding the right word. “I didn’t like the thought of sharing you with the world. Of seeing your face all over the place, of women admiring you and men lusting after you. I didn’t like that you would be out there exposed to attack that I couldn’t protect you from. But I realized I’d rather deal with that than lose you. That picture you took of me made me realize that no matter how many people saw it, that moment was still ours. Others can interpret it the way they want to but only we know the truth. I was arrogant and wrong to make you choose me over your career. I don’t care what you do as long as you’ll say you’ll be mine.”

  His eyes clung to hers, but it wasn’t their expression that captured her attention. It wasn’t even his words. It was his face: open, real, hopeful. That was what had changed him, he now had hope. The man standing before her was no longer a mystery; his dark shadows had disappeared. A happiness so pure and full spread through her and she was no longer afraid of loving him, it felt like a gift.

  Mariella cupped the side of his face, knowing that she would never tire of gazing at him. “I always promised myself I’d never let a man own me.”

  A slow smile touched Ian’s lips. “Nobody could own you any more than they could own me.” He slid his arm around her waist and drew her close. “But I’d like to borrow you for the next fifty years if you don’t mind.”

  Mariella wrapped her arms around his neck. “I think I could arrange that.”

  “Then let’s come to an agreement.” He lowered his head and kissed her with all the passion of a man claiming a well-earned prize.

  Stunned silence followed when Ian and Mariella returned to the gallery and announced their engagement. After a long awkward moment the crowd gave a muted, but polite, applause.

  Only Isabella showed her enthusiasm by throwing her arms around her sister and spinning her around then hugging Ian until Alex had to pull her away. Gen wasn’t sure about the match, but was glad to see her friend happy and told her so. They were soon surrounded by a crowd of well-wishers, but after a few moments Mariella disappeared from Ian’s side and soon the crowds thinned again and turned their attention back to the showing.

  Otis came up to Ian and shook his hand. “Congratulations, or should I say good luck? From what your mother told me you have a wild one on your hands.”

  Ian shook his head. “She’s a perfect lamb.”

  “I can’t believe you can say that with a straight face,” Josh said, joining the two men. “She’ll run the house.”

  “And she’ll run him,” Otis said.

  “I know that my brother loves a challenge, but Mariella will prove to be a challenge beyond even him.”

  “I disagree,” Ian said. “I’m marrying the gentlest, most tenderhearted woman in the room.”

  Both men burst into laughter. “You can’t be serious,” Josh said. “Everyone knows how miserable your fiancée is.” He swept his hand through the air. “I can see the headline now: ‘Innocent Ian Marries Mad Mariella.’”

  “They won’t be calling her that anymore.”

  “You intend to stop them?” Otis asked.

  “No, they won’t have a reason to.”

  Josh sniffed. “There will always be a reason with Mariella around.”

  “And again I disagree,” Ian said. “To prove my point let us each call our fiancées and ask them to leave early. The first woman to reply immediately wins the wager.”

  “You think that Mariella will leave all this admiration because you ask her to? No, brother, you’re going to embarrass yourself.”

  Ian shrugged. “You don’t wish to bet?”

  “I’ll bet you a hundred,” Otis said.

  Josh nodded. “Yes, a hundred.”

  “And I wager you a thousand that Mariella will come at my first call.”

  Otis laughed again. “Okay then. Who’s first?”

  “I am,” Josh said. He signaled to a waiter who’d served them earlier in the evening. “Please go and tell Ms. Gen Moser that we are leaving early.”

  The
waiter soon disappeared, but just as quickly returned. “She says that she wants a few more minutes.”

  Ian raised a sly brow. “Oh dear, is she too busy to answer your request?”

  “Don’t brag, brother,” Josh grumbled. “Mariella will give you a worse answer.”

  Otis touched the waiter’s shoulder. “Go and tell Mrs. Shirley Cooper that I want to talk to her.”

  “How will I know her?”

  “She has a Shih Tzu hanging out of her purse,” Ian said.

  Otis glared at him. “And she’s wearing a blue dress.”

  “So is the dog.”

  The waiter hid a smile and left then soon returned with his shoulders slumped. “She said that she will not come and that if you have anything to say that you should go to her.”

  Ian raised both his brows. “Yes, a very biddable fiancée indeed.”

  Otis raised his chin. “I doubt yours will even give you a response.”

  Ian looked at the waiter. “Please tell Ms. Mariella Duvall that it’s time to go.”

  The waiter hesitated. “Now?”

  “Yes. Now.”

  He tugged on his collar then left. Before Otis and Josh could tease Ian for the waiter’s long absence they spotted a striking figure making her way through the crowd.

  “It can’t be,” Josh said.

  But it was. Mariella stopped in front of Ian and said, “You’re ready to go?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just let me get my jacket.”

  Josh stared at her in amazement, then caught sight of Gen. “You just cost me money.”

  She looked at him blankly. “Why?”

  “He lost a bet,” Ian said.

  “It was silly of you to make a wager.”

  Shirley approached the group. “What did you want?”

  Otis gloomily shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now.”

  “They were betting on us,” Gen said.

  Shirley shrugged. “Men will always be boys. Why would I obey a man’s command?”

  “No woman should obey any man’s command,” Mariella said. “However, a man who has pledged his life to protect me and provide for me and love me until the day of his last breath.” She looked at Ian. “For that man I will come when called. I will listen when spoken to and I will answer when asked. I welcome being his companion, helpmate, lover and friend. I would walk on hot fires for him, because we are of one heart and one spirit and whatever he would ask me to do, he would do himself. Am I right?”