I suppose that makes me her perfect husband.
Maybe marriage will be good for me. Maybe it’ll be the chain I need to stop me from being the reckless virgin destroying hound like my father. The night with Melody haunts me still. How her big trusting eyes looked upon me with such grace and care, full of the belief that I was a good man and the right man for her. How her naked body felt so soft and sensuous against my own, interlocking into a perfect fit like puzzle pieces falling into place.
I should never have allowed myself to touch her. It was wrong. So very very wrong.
Mercedes places her hands by the sides of my head and leans in to kiss me.
I turn away.
She peers at me, puzzled. “What’s the problem?”
“Nothing,” I say. “Work.”
It wasn’t a lie. Melody consumed my mind for the past five weeks, so I threw myself into my work. But work was just as bitter and twisted as my love life. Just when I thought the Taiwan deal was ready to be signed, I discovered my bitterest rival Duncan Callaghan had swooped in and stolen the deal right from under me. That bastard cost me millions in the process, and more importantly, the dent to my pride.
But Mercedes would never understand that. I could never seek solace in her arms. No, there is only one woman with the trusting eyes and open heart I yearn for.
But even if I did want to be with Melody, it could never be. She must hate me now for what I did to her. No contact is one thing, but her forced resignation? I’d practically paid her off for fucking me, using money and power to silence my problems. Just like my father.
She must hate me.
I hate me.
But it’s the only way. It’s cruel and hard, but it’s the only option I have. She’s better off without me poisoning her life.
“I’m glad we’re back together,” says Mercedes.
“I don’t like ultimatums.”
“Well, I don’t like giving them,” she spits out. “Guess we’re made for each other.”
I knock back another drink.
“‘Cos lets face it, baby,” she says, “how could you ever stay mad at something so gorgeous?”
She presses her breasts out and does her skankiest Marilyn Monroe impression, but it does nothing.
Physically, Mercedes is perfect. Her hollow cheekbones and porcelain skin only complemented her large blue eyes and ten thousand dollar hair. She’d slink right in among my rich friends and contacts, ever the smiling and dutiful wife, laughing at the right time and gossiping with her friends about the most inane trivial shit, whilst I lavished their husbands with drinks and business deals. She’d fit in perfectly in my world.
So why do I not want her?
It doesn’t matter what I want. I must marry Mercedes or I’ll become just like my father. I’d come so close when I slept with Melody - an innocent naive virgin who would have given me everything if I’d only asked. I can’t do anything like that again. I have to stop myself from ruining any more lives.
“Come,” she says, “let’s go out for dinner. Just you and me.”
I nod and she wraps her boney arm around my waist and I guide us towards the door.
With each step, I feel the dense weight of the ring in my pocket, anchoring me to the floor, as the heavens open up in the street outside and rain bleeds from the sky. A bright sheet of lightning flashes through the penthouse and silhouettes our bodies as long gangly shadows against the wall, followed by the crash of thunder.
“Let’s go,” I say.
I reach for the door when my intercom suddenly buzzes like an angry bee.
My finger presses down the button. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you sir, but I’ve got someone down here who insists on speaking to you.”
“I’m busy,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Of course, sir. Sorry, won’t happen again.”
I’m about to let go of the intercom button when I hear the sound of the doorman once more, but he’s not addressing me.
“Hey! Come back here you crazy woman! Security! I need security!”
I let go of the button in surprise.
“A crazy woman? Jesus, Chase? What the hell? We need to get out of here.”
“It’s probably nothing.”
“How can you say that? She could be a mad stalker? Or an ex-girlfriend consumed by jealousy who wants to murder me in a fit of rage for how spectacular I am.”
“I’m sure you’ll cope.”
A woman so bound up in emotion that she has to see me right now? It could be any number of people - I’m hardly a subtle person when it comes to my activities.
Yet there’s one person I know it could never be - a woman so meek and quiet that she’d never risk the danger of coming to see me, not after everything I’ve done to her.
But, I can’t help hoping it is her.
There’s a thunderous knock on the door.
Mercedes jumps. “Quick, we have to hide!” she yells.
I pause, still as water. My hand slowly moves over to the handle.
“Chase!” she says. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Look, I have to do this. Alright? I have to know who it is.”
Before she can shout another order, I push down the handle and wrench the door open.
And there stands the woman of my dreams.
“Chase?” says Melody.
Her sweet voice sends a thrill through my body, my skin pickling on every note. It was like water to a man alone in the desert and dying of thirst... like a friendly hand to pick up and guide a blind man...
Like a blinding light to a child, trapped alone in the darkness.
I drop Mercedes’ hand and stare at this visage.
Somehow, Melody seems even more beautiful than I remember. It had been five long weeks, but in that time she’s become so remarkable. Her casual shirt hangs off her without a care in the world, her simple blue jeans wrapped around her sensual curves. And her luscious long brown hair is tied back in a ponytail, giving me an unrestricted view of that beautiful face, white and devoid of makeup.
She’s a breath of fresh air in this world of anorexic succubi. Melody didn’t care how she looked - she didn’t care what other people whispered behind her back. And that made her so much more naturally beautiful.
A voice breaks through from behind. It’s my security guard.
“My apologies, Mr. Chase. I’ll remove her this instant.”
“I should think so,” says Mercedes, a look of disgust in her eyes like she stepped on a pile of dog shit, and a tone in her voice suggesting she’s so far above Melody that she’s sitting in the clouds.
“Please, Chase!” says Melody. “I have to talk to you! Before I leave tomorrow morning!”
Mercedes lets out a snort. “Get rid of her.”
My guard nods. “Right away, ma’am.”
“Chase?” whispers Melody, her pupils large and bottomless, dilated to jet black ovals in the dim light. Just hearing her say my name brings me a joy so overwhelming I can’t even comprehend it. She looks so defenseless and frightened, but her voice is so sweet and pleading that it thrusts me back into the world.
The security guard grabs Melody by the wrist.
“Get your damn hands off her!” I command in a voice so angry and powerful it unsettles even me.
Scared shitless, my security guard backs up like a dog whacked on the head with his master’s newspaper. “Of.... of course, sir.”
I grab Melody by the arm and pull her inside my penthouse foyer.
“That’ll be all,” I say.
The guard jumps. “Oh! Of course. My apologies.” He nods and slams the door shut behind him.
Melody looks up at me, her lips parted, and my brain suddenly registers the feel of her skin under my trembling fingertips. Sensual memories flood my mind in wave after wave, my body giving up and drinking in the emotions and images with a limitless thirst. The last time she had been here, we’d made love in every single room. Even aga
inst the door right behind her.
The need to have her right now overwhelms me. Against the door again, or on the kitchen counter, or up in my master bed, our naked undulating bodies writhing against each other in sexual ecstasy.
No. I must quash this feeling. I can’t let it take me over.
But I want her so much more than I ever thought possible - to claim her body as my own and whisk her away to where nobody can harm us ever again.
But I can’t. I must refuse.
Mercedes snorts. “What. The fuck. Is she doing here?”
I drop Melody’s wrist and inhale what feels like the first breath I’ve taken in weeks.
My hands wring together. It’s the only way I can stop myself from touching her sweet silky skin.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I say.
Melody bites her lip and gives me a sad smile. Her brown eyes eat into my soul, taking me away to a place I’d long since forgotten, a place I thought never existed. She’s so sad and demure, that it makes me ache with longing and the need to protect her. She’s not a creature of this vile world - she’s from a land of hope and innocence and love. So full of promise and beauty... and a spellbinding effervescent glow.
“I had to see you,” she says.
Her straightforwardness dumbfounds me. How do I even respond to something like that? She’s so honest, even in the company of a woman she despises.
Mercedes’ eyes bore in Melody’s vulnerable face like a laser beam cutting rocks from space. There is no doubt she knows who Melody is. How could she not? We were in every newspaper and magazine across the country. Our picture from the Wiltshire Ballroom, arm in arm and on the red carpet was plastered across every news website.
But Melody keeps her cool, against all the odds. She doesn’t even give Mercedes the satisfaction of a glance, her eyes still fixed to my own. But there’s something else in the look - a hint of pity for the famous starlet.
“I’m sorry,” says Melody. “I just need to talk to you for minute. That’s all.”
Before I can answer, Mercedes erupts with a cackle. “Just need to talk to him, do you? Who the fuck do you think you are? Nothing but a quick fuck for my man here, but, you know what? He’s fucking done with you, now. So get lost, you cheap skank.”
“Do not speak to her like that!” my voice thunders.
Mercedes scowls with a look that would kill at thirty paces. “I’m going downstairs. When you’re ready to join me for our romantic dinner, I suggest you follow. If it’s not too much trouble,” she spits out. She spins on her heels and marches to the door. She pauses for a moment. “There’ll be so many wealthy industrialists and producers there, I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to talk to them alone.”
Her threat was clearer than a Hawaiian ocean.
The door thunders closed behind her.
And now it’s just me and Melody, alone. Together.
This is bad. I found it hard enough to control myself whilst Mercedes was standing right next to me, but now...
And on the night I planned to propose to Mercedes, as well. This is terrible. Completely abhorrent. And wrong wrong wrong.
So why am I happier than I’ve ever been?
Torrents of rain pelt against the window as we stare wordlessly at each other.
“You broke into my building,” I say.
She smiles. “Pretty brave of me, wasn’t it?”
“Pretty brave indeed.”
Melody bites her lip and I can see she’s holding back tears. “God, Chase. I’m so happy to see you. I missed you.”
“I...” I want to tell her I missed her too, but my heart twists from her vulnerability and openness. I can’t tell her that, no matter how true it is. “You shouldn’t have come here. Not tonight.”
“You’re asking her to marry you, aren’t you? Mercedes, I mean.”
I swallow and give a faint nod.
She stares at me with those large eyes and I expect them to overflow with tears. But nothing happens - no waterworks, no recriminations - not even calling me out for how I treated her. She just shakes her head.
“As long as you’re happy,” she says, and I feel my heart twist harder.
“You’re not...”
“I’m not what?”
“You’re not devastated by this news?”
She gives me a wistful smile. “A little upset, maybe. But one thing I’ve learnt recently: you can’t always get what you want. And sometimes, what you want, you probably shouldn’t want it in the first place. Sometimes things just aren’t meant to be.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“I’m okay with it.”
It surprises me - this young innocent girl, only five weeks ago a naive virgin, could have more self-control and pragmatism than myself. She’s truly blossomed into a wonderful woman. And as much as it pains me to not be a part of her life, I find a small piece of solace in being responsible for her metamorphosis.
If only things could be different.
“If you didn’t come because of the engagement, then why are you here, Melody?”
She lifts her face up and her luminous eyes meet my own. They swim with such vivid and endless browns that I feel lost in them like I did the night we made love. How can a woman entrance me with only a look? It’s drives me mad, and it drives me wild.
“I’m leaving,” she says. “But there’s something I need to tell-“
“You’re leaving?” I interrupt.
She nods.
“But why?” I ask.
“I can’t stay here. Not in the city. There’s too many memories and opportunities I screwed up. Tomorrow, I’m moving to California. I’ve got fam... friends out there. They know people.”
“You wish to pursue you’re singing career?”
“Yeah, but they should also be able to find me a job or something as well.”
So that’s it - I’m responsible. I’m the one who forced her to resign and was disgusting enough to try and pay her off for her silence. No wonder she feels like she must leave - between that and my engagement news in every gossip mag and the people on the street that think of Melody as my mistress...
I’m forcing her to leave New York. It’s all my fault.
Dear God, what have I done?
“Melody... I...”
The intercom buzzes, cutting me off.
Damn it. What now?
I jam the button down.
“Sir, we have Ms. Bell down here - she wants you to... err...”
“What does she want?”
“Sir, I’d like to tell you, but the language is probably best not repeated. I think she wants you to join her in the foyer.”
I grind my teeth. “Tell her she’s going to have to wait.”
I let go of the button before Mercedes can jump on the intercom and badger me from beneath twenty-two floors.
“Melody...” I say.
The intercom buzzes again.
I sigh and grab Melody’s hand. “Come, let’s go somewhere more private,” I say and lead her to the balcony. I try to ignore the soft feel of her hand in my own, so warm and entrancing.
“Okay,” she says, not resisting.
We walk out on to the balcony and the cool air hits us like a sheet of ice and my skin prickles. We peer over the bustling New York street. The air beneath is jammed with the sounds of cars, but we’re high enough to be truly alone. And it’s only then I realise how close we are, and the cold temperature mysteriously gives way to one that’s hot and stifling. The rain is lighter now and refreshes my skin.
My tie feels tight around my neck. I fidget with it, until my neck hairs bristle against the breeze.
I realise I’m still holding her hand and my heart crashes in my chest, the blood thumping in my ears. I look up at her and see the moonlight flow over the horizon and splash against her face, illuminating one side ever so slightly, as the other sits in the dim glow of my penthouse spotlights. She looks more beautiful than I remembered. Even more so - I’ve
never thought beauty like this could even be possible - that it could be contained within one woman in all the world - it fills me with disbelief. But I can see such beauty in front of me, and my legs quiver and my heart aches.
I feel her fingers tremble, entwined in my own. She breathes lightly and I realise just how nervous she is.
I drop her hand.
She wants me. And I want her.
But it cannot be. It pains me and sends me insane, but we do not belong together. We can’t. Maybe I care for her deeply and she cares the same for me, but that’s not important. Love destroys and love wreaks havoc in the lives of those it enslaves. I will not let such a destructive emotion have its way with me, even for a moment. Otherwise, I risk her loving me. And worse: I risk loving her. I’ve learnt my lesson of love a long time ago, and I will not make the same mistake again.
Sex and money. Those are what’s important in this world. At least with sex and money, you know you cannot trust anyone.
But my body shakes as I spend every second resisting the urge to touch her. Grabbing her and kissing her and tasting her. To have her and I as one again, deep in that sensual warmth, enveloping everything until reality itself dims. It’s so safe and tender and complete.
I dry swallow and take a deep breath.
“So why are you here?” I say coldly.
The rain begins to pelt harder, as lightning crashes against the sky and a sheet of bright light illuminates Melody’s wounded face. She holds her head high and a clap of thunder booms in the distance.
“Do you love her?” she says.
“Who?” I say, taken aback by the loaded question.
“Who do you think?”
“I told you,” I say, “love is immaterial. Marriage is about power and consolidation of that power. It’s-.”
“-Like a business deal,” she says, finishing my sentence with a smile.
“Like a business deal,” I repeat.
“But to go the rest of your life without love... you could deny yourself such a feeling?”
My heart feels like it’s going to explode in my chest.
Perfect Harmony Page 11
