Our Dirty Secret (A MFM Ménage Romance)

by Vivian Ward

  Sarabelle 1

  Out of the system for five years, I was determined to make sure that everything my parents built continued to grow to match their vision. After their deaths, a consulting group that had worked closely with them stepped in and made sure the business ran smoothly.

  Again, the business had been left to my sister and I but neither of us knew anything about the business world. My parents kept home life and business life separate and we were too young at the time to learn anything from them anyway. I was amazed to see that the consulting group was able to not only keep the company afloat, but they made it thrive in ways that my parents would have loved.

  Once I was of legal age, I attended business meetings to see if I could get a handle on what was going on. Instead, all I saw was a group of young professionals that loved the business just as much as my mom and dad did. In the end, we worked out a deal that would allow them to license the name LexiBelle Ventures, which my parents chose because it was a combination of me and my sister’s names.

  On top of the licensing agreement, my sister and I would both retain a total of 25% of the company but would not be active in the day to day business. This ensured we would always have income and could focus on what we were going to do with our lives next.

  Even at 23 years old, I still didn’t have a clue about what I wanted to do. I’ve thought of becoming a doctor or a lawyer but neither of those really piqued my interest as much as I would have liked.

  I really thought I might enjoy being a social worker and using the experiences I saw within the system as a blueprint for what not to do. It sounded good but, even with my heart in it, how much would I actually be able to change? When I started thinking that way, I realized I was back to square one, which was having no clue what to do with my life.

  I did know, however, what I was going to do on that particular night. After much prodding and begging by one of my best friends, I was going to be attending the annual Scarsdale Gala. I’ve never been to one before but everyone around here says that everybody who’s anybody attends the gala. I don’t think I’m one of these everybody’s who’s a somebody but I was talked into going regardless.

  “What are you going to wear to the gala?” Lexi asked me early the week before.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I responded. “I’ll probably just pull something out of my closet. I’m sure I’ve got a dress in there somewhere.”

  Lexi looked at me as though I had two heads.

  “Sarabelle, don’t you know that the Gala is the social gathering of the year? Just pulling out some old dress from your closet isn’t gonna work. Besides, I’ve seen the clothes you keep in there and, trust me, you’d get laughed out of the building.”

  “What? I would not. Besides, what does it matter what I wear? It’s just a dance.”

  “Just a dance? Are you kidding me right now? Do you even know where this event is taking place? Come here, let me show you.”

  Lexi grabbed her laptop and came over to sit on my bed. She opened it up and brought up the website of the Grand Roosevelt Ballroom. It was gorgeous. The whole place looked like it was straight out of Cinderella. Of course, Lexi would be the one who would get the attention as the princess. I wouldn’t be noticed at all. I may as well have been the fairy godmother in the background saying bibbdy-bobbidi-boo.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said. “What am I going to do? I don’t even know how to start shopping for something that would look good for this gala.”

  “What is wrong with you? One of these days you’ll wake up and realize that you’re rich and can do whatever the hell you want. Take your ass down to The Best Dressed of Westchester and pick out a damn ball gown. I don’t know why you have to make everything so difficult.”

  She was right. There was nothing in my closet that would even come close to being good enough to wear into that ballroom. I swallowed my pride, called Best Dressed Westchester and spoke with Michelle.

  She asked me a bunch of questions and when she realized that I needed a dress for the gala, she made an appointment on the spot. By that evening, I was hoping I would have my dress.

  When I got to the shop, I was surprised to see that I was the only customer there. Michelle explained to me that they only do private appointments when selecting dresses for the gala. I didn’t know what all the excitement was about and wasn’t particularly fond of that big of a deal being made for me but I was already there so I went with it.

  Several racks of dresses had been selected for me and I spent the next three hours trying on a variety of dresses. I have to admit, it made me feel like a princess and for a little while as I allowed myself to escape into that fantasy world. By the time I walked out of there, I had agreed to buy a beautiful dress made by Jovani.

  The dress even had a name. It was labeled as “The Belle of the Ball” which I thought was corny and amazing all at the same time. Michelle told me that it would be taken in and adjusted for my exact measurements, ensuring I would look fabulous.

  “When do I come to pick the dress up?” I asked.

  “Honey, we have so many orders for the gala right now and my tailor is working as fast as he can. I can only promise you that it will be ready the morning of the gala. If it’s any earlier than that, I’ll be sure to call you and let you know.”

  I’d been pacing around the morning of the gala hoping that I’d have something to wear that night since my dress still hadn’t been tailored for me. I called the shop and Michelle said there were a couple dresses that were still ahead of mine.

  She kept promising me that it would be done in plenty of time and that she’d call me when it’s done. Now, it was almost noon and I was still waiting. A friend of Lexi’s was coming over to do our hair and makeup but it was important that I be in my dress when she got here.

  “Will you sit down, Sarabelle? You’re annoying the shit out of me with all of your walking back and forth,” Lexi griped.

  “I’m sorry Lexi! It’s just that if this dress isn’t ready in time, I won’t be able to go tonight. As much as you’ve all been on me to get out of the house, I know I’ll never hear the end of it if I don’t show up.”

  My phone started ringing as soon as I had finished my sentence. My dress was ready and waiting for me to pick it up.

  “Do you want to come with me to pick it up, Lexi?” I asked my sister, excited to show her what I had picked out.

  “No, it’s okay. I’ll see it whenever you get back. Besides, I can only imagine what a dress you picked out must look like. If I go with you, I probably wouldn’t let you leave the store with it.”

  I couldn’t believe how mean and hateful she was being to me. While it was true that she hadn’t been overly kind to me for quite some time, she usually stopped short of being mean to me directly. On the other hand, I could kind of see where she was coming from. I don’t really have the greatest fashion sense in the world. I’m not like the rich and famous people we’re constantly surrounded by; I’m more of a homebody who likes to kick it in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

  Maybe it’s because when we were battling to stay together in foster care, I didn’t really care what I looked like. I’ve never been a materialistic person, unlike my twin. That didn’t change the fact that I thought the dress I had picked out was gorgeous and I didn’t care what she said. I was happy with it and that’s all the mattered.

  When I got back home, I was relieved to find out that our friend was going to be later than we expected. It left me plenty of time to take a shower and get dressed before she arrived, which was good because I needed to shave my legs before I even thought about going anywhere in a dress. It was nice to be able to enjoy the shower instead of having to rush around like I thought I was going to have to do.

  I closed my eyes as the warm water ran over my body. I allowed my mind to wander and I started daydreaming about what the dance was going to be like. Public events like this are not my thing but I promised myself that I’d do my best to enjoy it.

  As I got
out of the shower and began drying off, I spied Lexi messing with my dress out of the corner of my eye. At first, I thought she was just looking at it while I was out of the room since she claimed to not care what I picked.

  It wasn’t until I saw her taking it off the hook I had hung the hanger on and started walking towards her room that I realized something wasn’t right.

  “Lexi, what are you doing?” I yelled down the hall right before she went into her door.

  “There is no way you picked this dress out for yourself Sarabelle. Who did you take to the dress shop with you?”

  “Nobody. I picked it out by myself.”

  “Bullshit, you don’t have an eye for fashion to be able to pick out something like this. I actually love this dress and I’m going to wear it to the gala tonight. You can wear the black dress I picked out for myself. It will probably look better on you anyway. It doesn’t show nearly enough cleavage for my taste.”

  I couldn’t believe she was going to take my dress and think I wouldn’t have a problem with it. That was my dress and I’ll be damned if she was going to steal it from me. I stormed down the hall and into her room, which she had just walked into.

  “That’s my dress Lexi and you need to give it back to me right now.”

  “Or else what? Are you going to get mad? Are you going to beat me up? Give me a break,” she said, knowing that I get extremely emotional when I get angry.

  “Just give me the dress. I paid for it and I really want to wear it,” I said, my voice breaking a couple times as I tried to fight back tears.

  “Did you hear what I said? It’s not going to look good on you. I’m only trying to save you from embarrassing yourself.”

  “You know what, Lexi? You get all your little friends to do whatever you want and they follow you like some kind of cult leader. You don’t get to do that with me. You and I went through too much together. I’m tired of you always getting your way. I’m putting my foot down when it comes to the dress.”

  The look on Lexi’s face changed. While she was being a sarcastic smart-ass before, I managed to make her infuriated. She was so mad that she grabbed the dress and slammed it hard into my chest.

  “Here bitch, just take your damn dress and get out of my room.”

  I tried to avoid it but I started crying by the time I made it to my room. She calls everyone a bunch of different names but she never calls me anything. The fact that she called me a bitch cut a little deeper than it should have.

  “Are you sad, bitch? Why don’t you go cry to that gay boyfriend of yours? That’s what you always do anyway.”

  The gay boyfriend she is talking about is Liam Bane. Consequently, he is neither gay nor is he my boyfriend. He was someone I met while I was going through the system and managed to stay in touch with ever since. My sister liked to call him gay because he spent so much time with me but never tried to date me.

  The truth is that we’ve always been great friends and have never really had an attraction to one another. He was different than any other guy I’d ever met. It was nice to be able to get a male perspective on things without him assuming I was giving him signs that I wanted him in my panties. With Liam, I felt safe. That was why I was taking him to the gala as my date.

  I managed to pull myself together before our friend Becca arrived to do our hair and makeup. Becca worked at one of the most exclusive salons in New York and was the go-to girl for celebrities when they were in town. Lexi grabbed her as soon as she got there and pulled her into her room to do her hair first. I had a feeling she called her in there out of spite, hoping that she wouldn’t get a chance to do mine which would lead me to going to the gala looking like I’d just rolled out of bed. I had news for her, though.

  As much fun as it is to have someone do your hair and makeup, I was more than capable of doing my own. Since I already knew what she was up to, I grabbed my stuff and headed for the bathroom.

  Under usual circumstances, I am not your typical girl who primps and preens in front of a mirror for ages when getting ready to go somewhere. This, however, is one of those nights where it’s absolutely necessary.

  My dress is gorgeous; it’s long and silky and the cutest shade of powder blue I’ve ever seen. The strapless gown had sequins around my cleavage, yet it wasn’t meant to draw attention to my breasts. My dress is beautiful and classy.

  After getting into the dress, I spent nearly two hours getting made up to go to the dance. For a while, I was asking myself what I was doing. I was going to the dance with Liam and I knew I didn’t have to get made up for him. Who was I trying to impress? I was able to answer my own question quickly.

  I wasn’t attempting to impress anyone. I missed out on proms and homecomings and this was my way to make up for lost time. I wanted to look like a beautiful princess and dammit, that’s what I was going to do.

  Liam arrived early to pick me up and had to wait until I was finished. This was new territory for him. He was used to my beauty regimen consisting of pulling my hair back into a ponytail, grabbing my purse and walking out the door.

  “I’m sorry, Liam. I won’t be too much longer. Just have a seat on my bed and I’ll be right out,” I yelled from inside the bathroom.

  I learned that day that he didn’t like to wait.

  While I was rolling the curling iron through my long hair, I could hear the sound of his knuckles cracking. Looking through the crack in the door, I could see that he was nervous and fidgety. His leg bounced up and down as his eyes darted around the room. I’m pretty sure he even sighed and let out a low whistle as he waited.

  When I finally made my way out into my room, he jumped up off the bed to meet me. He was raised to be old-fashioned and believed a lady should never be greeted by a man in a seated position. Sometimes I wonder why I wasn’t into him. He was literally everything I wanted in a guy.

  The feelings weren’t there, though, and we both knew it. We’d debated giving it a go a couple of times while we were younger but it was too weird. We’re best friends and that’s the way we like it.

  “Wow, you look beautiful,” he complimented me as I did a little spin so he could see my dress.

  “Thank you. You look very handsome yourself,” I responded as I looked his black and white tuxedo up and down. He really did clean up quite nice.

  Just as I had suspected, Lexi and Becca emerged from her room with only minutes to spare. She had a smirk on her face that I would have loved to have slapped off. Instead, I bit my tongue as I usually do and rolled my eyes.

  “You ready to go?” Liam asked, holding out his hand, instructing me to walk ahead of him.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  And with that, it was time to head to the gala. Liam held the passenger door of his blue Ford Mustang while I got in. I was used to riding in his SUV but this was the car that he brought out for special occasions. I thought it was cute that he considered this dance to be one of those times. I really hope to meet a man like him.

  As we pulled up to the Grand Roosevelt Ballroom, I was taken aback by how beautiful it was. While Liam was busy giving his car keys to the valet driver, I looked in awe at the stunning pillars and charm of the building. The building was white but purple spotlights were placed on the ground, focused on the structure, causing it to glow in a shade of lilac.

  I had been relaxed during the drive over but suddenly my nerves were getting the best of me. My mouth was as dry as the desert and I could feel my anxiety rising. Just as I thought I was about to lose it, Liam held out his arm to me.

  “Shall we?” he asked in a fake British accent, breaking the tension, causing me to laugh.

  “Let’s,” I replied in a horrible attempt at matching his accent. I probably sounded more French than anything.

  There was a long line of people making their way inside. Each person was stopped to make sure their name was on the list before being allowed entry to the event. I knew that it was an exclusive gathering but I had no idea what lengths they would go to in ord
er to keep out people who did not have invitations.

  The line moved quickly but not fast enough for several of the women standing in front of us. For the next five minutes, Liam and I listened to the complaining and moaning about how one person thought that, since they were a VIP, they shouldn’t have to wait in line while another whined about the event organizers for not having a better solution in place.

  Personally, these women were everything I vowed to never become. How someone can be so miserable all the time is beyond me.

  After checking in at the door and making our way inside, I was amazed by the beauty and elegance of the interior. With a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling and Victorian-era crown molding, the inside was even more beautiful than the outside.

  We were led to a table, which had our names etched on a placard on top of a solid white linen tablecloth. We would be sharing our table with Robert and Vanessa Anders, two people whom I was not familiar with.

  Not long after we had been seated, a jazz band took the stage and started to play. The music was beautiful and it didn’t take long for a few couples to make their way to the dance floor. I had no doubt that I would end up out there at some point, although I was going to have to consume a few drinks first. As we stood up to mingle, I noticed several people were staring at me and immediately became self-conscious.

  “Liam, I think I’m just going to stay at the table,” I nervously mentioned to my date.

  “What? Why? What’s the matter?”

  “There are so many people staring at me. What’s wrong? Did my makeup smear or something?”

  “No, not at all,” he laughed. “People are looking at you because you are absolutely stunning this evening. Come on, let’s go get a drink so you can loosen up a bit.”

  The two of us walked to the bar and got a flute of champagne, which would be my drink of choice for the evening. When we turned away from the bar, Lexi was standing behind us.