Brandy and Marcus walked up the drive to the sound of laughter and live music. Who was paying for this extravaganza? Brandy wondered.
"Marcus." Brandy held back as he was about to ring the door bell.
He looked down, his eyes dark and smoldering the way Shaw's could when he was angry.
"I'm frightened," she whispered. "I don't know anyone in there."
"You know me." He smiled, but like Shaw, the smile didn't reach his eyes. "And you know Shaw, if he can spare the time for you," he muttered. He squeezed her arm. "You look beautiful, Brandy. That should give you confidence enough. I have a feeling you'll be able to hold your own this evening, but if you get worried about that, just look across the room for me. I'll be there watching out for you, if you need me."
Brandy relaxed beneath his look. She knew he was being sincere, and it was nice to know she had an ally.
The door opened to a glittering hallway with a curving staircase swirling to the upper levels of the house. It seemed out of place with the outside facade, almost fake, but the amount of money that had been spent on the single crystal chandelier spoke of riches beyond Brandy's imagination.
Brandy stepped with Marcus across the mosaic tiled floor into the living area where the majority of the guests were congregating. She tightened the muscles in her stomach, remembering her modeling training, and decided that to boost her confidence she would pretend she was modeling. She held her rib cage high, her shoulders back, and her spine straight as she put one foot in front of the other and entered the room.
Seeing men notice her entrance and turn to look at her made her relax—she knew several gave Marcus envious glances.
Brandy looked for Shaw, but didn't see him. She did, however, notice the man he had lunched with the day at Peachtree Plaza. It was hard to miss him, especially when he bellowed out to the group that Shaw's wife had arrived.
Brandy was soon surrounded by wellwishers and anxious young men eager for an excuse to kiss the bride. Marcus drifted away from her side, and she soon realized she could stand on her own, and more than that, was actually enjoying the attention. Perhaps, she thought, if so many other men were eager for her company Shaw would realize what a prize he had in Brandy.
Laughing and chatting, she allowed those she met to lead her around and introduce her to various businessmen and prominent citizens of the community, but all the while kept a lookout for Shaw; it seemed odd that strangers were making the introductions instead of her own husband.
Someone brought her a glass of champagne and several in the crowd toasted to her. The champagne felt bubbly going down, but the quickness of her swallowing made tears well behind her eyes. Where is Shaw? she wondered. Had he even arrived? Did he prefer having a private party with someone else in some other room of the mansion? She emptied her glass and found it just as quickly replaced by another.
Take it easy, she warned herself. She had to be prepared for whatever games Shaw was playing. It was as if she were on display, yet he didn't seem proud enough to be the one to show her off to his friends. She had been forced to arrive with Shaw's brother. She had no choice but to shuffle from person to person making small talk about subjects she was only vaguely aware. Perhaps this was another of Shaw's games—giving her enough rope to hang herself by saying the wrong thing to his best friends.
Finally Shaw appeared, although she concluded that he had arrived a long time ago. She vowed not to let her frustration show, as she noted a tall woman beside him, her hand on his arm—a rather possessive hand at that, Brandy thought. She recognized the woman as the evening hostess at Shaw's restaurant and she had wondered from the beginning what other relationship the two might have.
It was plainly obvious as the other woman's eyes caught Brandy's that she was laying prior claim to Brandy's husband. It didn't help that everyone in the room greeted the woman as one of their own.
Brandy watched Shaw shake hands with many of the guests, the woman sticking close by his side. He doesn't even have the decency to set that woman aside and take the hand of his own wife. Brandy thought angrily.
But the next moment Brandy remembered her place —she was Shaw's wife and a stranger in the midst of Shaw's longtime business associates and friends. She also remembered something else—he was her husband. That was what this stupid party was all about anyway! If he didn't want everyone to know the fact of their marriage, he should never have agreed to let the party be in their honor.
"Excuse me," Brandy said to the woman she had been speaking to, "but I see my husband has just come in. I've so enjoyed meeting you and hope we get a chance to chat later."
Brandy walked determinedly up to Shaw and his companion, daring the woman to keep her arm on Shaw in her presence. Brandy's eyes glared as the woman let her hand slip away from Shaw's jacket-clad arm.
"Hello," said Brandy, holding out her hand to the man Shaw was talking to. "I'm Brandy Janus."
"Well, hello." The man's eyes lit up and he turned his full attention to Brandy. "You didn't tell me Marcus had gotten married," the man said over his shoulder to Shaw, while his eyes devoured Brandy.
"He didn't," Brandy informed him. "Shaw did." She slid into position between the woman and Shaw, clutching his arm even more possessively than the other girl had.
Shaw looked at her—and then all the way down her open front—and the expression in his eyes was not one of his most pleasant. Snuggling closer, Brandy smiled up at him, further wedging her body into his and the other woman out of the conversation. Brandy felt the muscles in her neck knotting with tension and anger; she had sat home night after night waiting for him, hoping he would come home just to talk to her, if nothing else, and all the while he had probably been with his hostess. Before Brandy could elaborate on their marriage, Shaw was excusing them and hustling Brandy out of the room.
"We can't leave now," Brandy protested, knowing there was safety in numbers, and afraid of a confrontation with Shaw.
"To hell with the party," he said. "This was not my idea."
"It wasn't?" Brandy hung behind, making it difficult for him to push her further. "You can't think I arranged it. I don't know any of your friends."
"In a way you did, though." He glared, taking her resisting wrist and hauling her onto the terrace.
"Me? How?" She stumbled after him.
"My whole life has changed since you entered it!"
"Do you think mine hasn't also?"
"That's different. You're a woman."
"Oh," Brandy fumed, shaking her wrist free of his touch. "Since when have you taken a dislike to women? Certainly not tonight the way that blonde was cutting off the circulation in your arm! Everybody noticed."
"So what? Most of them know her. Nobody knows you."
"Is that my fault?"
"Yes." He lowered his face to her level.
"I thought you were going to try to be discreet with your affairs until all this mess with Eric was settled, but I guess it was too much to trust you to care about him."
"It's because I care about him that I'm in this blasted mess. And it's because of him that this idiotic nuptial party is taking place tonight."
"How?" she challenged.
"Because Lorraine saw the thing in the paper about our custody battle and, of course, the little fact that we were recently married. I'd been hoping to keep it from her, of all people."
Brandy tapped her toe on the flagstones. "I can see that it would make it easier to keep your little affair going if she were in the dark about your marriage."
Shaw's eyes widened, and Brandy cringed. She'd said too much that time, but luckily he had enough self-control not to resort to violence.
"We are not now having an affair," he said through gritted teeth.
"Then why did you invite her to this party?"
"I didn't invite her," he said slowly and distinctly. "She invited us. All of us. This is her home. It was all her stupid idea to have everyone get to know you… especially her."
"But I don't u
nderstand." She frowned. "Why would she want to give us a party if she and you still—"
"We aren't still—" he paused for emphasis, "and the reason she gave this party is because she knows how much I hate this kind of thing."
"Oh," said Brandy, as if she understood, but she was more confused than ever. One thing was becoming clear, however, and that was that Shaw was no more happy to be here than she was. "Why don't we leave then?"
"We can't leave!" He stomped away from her in exasperation. "We're the guests of honor."
"I suppose that's why you had Marcus bring me… why you couldn't bring me yourself."
"I didn't bring you because I've been tied up with the details of opening the restaurant, but I can see I should have brought you—if for no other reason than to make you wear something more decent than that dress." He stepped back to her and began buttoning up the dress.
She put her hands over his. "It's supposed to be worn open."
"Who says?"
"The designer." She undid all the buttons.
"Well, your husband says it should be buttoned up all the way to the throat."
"No." She argued.
He lifted his eyes to the porch ceiling. "Why is it whenever we're out in public you let every man near you see more of your body than I can when you're lying in bed with me? How come I always get left out?"
"It's not that I'm trying to leave you out," Brandy tried to explain. "It's just that—" She wasn't finding it easy to tell him how she felt. "Let's go home," she said instead.
Shaw grasped her shoulders, his eyes blazing with emotion. "Why do you always tell me things like that when it's impossible to do anything about it?"
"Because," she involuntarily licked her lower lip, "it's safer that way."
"Oh, baby." His eyes softened as they concentrated on her full, moist lips. "Why are you so afraid of me?"
"Shaw," she said, her hands going to the front of his white shirt, smoothing over the material beneath his jacket. "You're so experienced… and I'm not… not at all. How can I satisfy you? How can I compare to women like her?"
He pulled her closer, chuckling at her fears, holding her loosely in his arms as he cuddled her next to his chest. "You wouldn't be half so special if you tried to compete with everyone else. You're unique, like no other woman I've known. That's why you're so dear to me."
Brandy's heart was fluttering like a captive butterfly. He sounded so tender, so sincere, and the words were honey to her ears. She stared up at him. Was he just saying these things because he knew it was what she wanted to hear? Or did he mean them?
She didn't take time to think any longer as his lips came down on hers and she was swallowed up in sensations that she thought must be love. It was what she wanted to feel from Shaw, and she wouldn't question it any longer. It was enough now to take what she could get from him for as long as it lasted. She had trapped him into marriage, perhaps she could snare him into loving her as well. She knew now that was what she wanted, why she had been so determined all along in choosing him for her husband. She wanted to love Shaw and have him love her back. To be his wife and have him as her husband—not for Eric's sake, but for her own. She couldn't help loving him. Perhaps if she were with him long enough, he wouldn't be able to resist loving her, either.
She responded to his kiss with all the love in her heart. She had to show him her love since to voice the words would only make him angry and send him away from her.
He moaned against her cheek, "I'd give anything if we could slip away from here—just to be alone for a couple of hours."
"Yes," said Brandy, his words exciting her. She was committed to this man. He was her husband. She wanted to be a wife to him in every way. She could feel him wavering between desire and obligation. She ran her hands around his chest to his back, snuggling closer inside his loose jacket. She wanted to hide in Shaw rather than face again that roomful of strangers— people who were Shaw's friends, but not her own. They were the type of people who speared olives at cocktail parties and at the same time stabbed backs, she thought.
She shuddered involuntarily at the thought. Shaw hugged her closer. "We'll stay just long enough to have another drink or two," he decided, "and meanwhile you stay in the mood you're in right now."
"I won't promise," said Brandy, disappointed that she wasn't getting her way right this minute. Still, leaving early with Shaw was better than closing the party down, or having him leave with someone else.
He seared her mouth with another breathless kiss that weakened her knees and left her standing docilely in front of him as he buttoned up the bodice of her dress.
As she went back to the party with Shaw, Brandy felt much stronger. This time she was arriving with him beside her, making a grander entrance than before. They were husband and wife, and she wanted everyone to see how hard it was for them to keep their eyes, and hands, off each other.
Shaw was very attentive to Brandy, even drinking a toast to her with champagne instead of his usual Scotch. They linked arms like lovers and tried to swallow their drinks without spilling them while giggling at the absurdity of their honeymoon games. Lorraine had bought a large wedding cake topped with a bride and groom and Shaw went through the motions of gaily cutting the cake with Brandy, even smearing a slice of cake around her pretty lips to the delight of the guests. But Brandy didn't care, for his eyes were teasing, and at the same time anticipatory. Little did the guests know that night would actually be their true wedding night.
Brandy enjoyed herself, and despite the fact that all the guests were strangers to her, she was gracious and friendly. Shaw was beside her, and that was all that mattered. She even forgot about Marcus watching her from the background, ready to come to her aid should she need a little extra confidence.
"How long have you been married?" Everyone wanted to know. Shaw would answer with a knowing look at Brandy, "She swept me off my feet. I hardly knew what was happening."
All the while Lorraine was hovering in the background, playing the role of the perfect hostess, trying to assert her relationship with Shaw whenever she had the opportunity.
Brandy couldn't relax with her near. Whenever Lorraine sidled up to Shaw, Brandy tried to slip away, but he would ensnare her wrist and break his contact with Lorraine.
As hard as Brandy tried to ignore her, Lorraine finally got her chance alone with her. Brandy slipped away to the ladies' room, her head reeling from the countless glasses of champagne, and Lorraine followed her.
Brandy sat down at the vanity table, wishing her head would clear and her hand steady as she touched up her makeup. But as Lorraine came into the room behind her, Brandy was thankful for the haze the alcohol gave her. It made it easier to face Lorraine.
The other woman ran a brush through her hair, as if it were truly a coincidence that they happened to be in the ladies' room at the same moment.
"You won't get away with it," Lorraine said without preamble, tugging at her blonde locks.
Brandy didn't answer: she couldn't trust herself to. She was afraid if she tried to respond, Lorraine would have a quicker wit, so she sat silently, outlining her lips with a lipstick pencil, enraging Lorraine because she was ignoring her.
"He only married you for one reason, you know," Lorraine continued. "As soon as he tires of you he'll come back to me."
Brandy dug in her makeup kit for her lipstick.
Lorraine pried deeper. "Once he sees how much more satisfying a woman with experience is, you won't be able to keep him. He's already spending more time with me than he is at home with you."
Brandy wanted to argue, her neck muscles tightening again at the tension between them, but she knew she didn't have a defense. Just because Shaw spent time away from home didn't necessarily mean he was spending all that time with Lorraine—maybe he really was busy at work on the restaurant. For the first time she hoped that were true, but a quick glance in Lorraine's direction said it wasn't probable. The woman was beautiful and experienced.
"And
what do you have to offer him?" Lorraine continued with her monologue.
Brandy turned to face her. "Love."
Lorraine laughed. "He can have that with any number of women. That's funny if you think you can hold him with something as tenuous as that."
"It's the only thing that will hold us together," said Brandy, knowing it was the truth, but also that Shaw had to love her as much as she loved him for the marriage to work. "He can have the entire female population, but I don't think anyone's ever offered him love before."
"My, but you're such an innocent. Money's much more important to Shaw than love; I guess you haven't known him long enough to have figured that out. He needs money to make this new restaurant of his a success and I can give him the money."
"He'll be a success because of the person he is, not because he has to hold onto the apron strings of some rich snob."
Lorraine's face darkened. "If you love him, you'll let him go. The restaurant means the world to him. I'll see that he doesn't get the money he needs if you stay with him. Without that money he'll be broken financially. There are a lot of expenses involved with a venture of this size and it's a gamble for any man. Shaw has me and my money as the ace in the hole, but not for much longer, lady—not if you persist in your notions of love and marriage."
"You can't threaten me," said Brandy calmly, putting her makeup back in her purse to hide her shaking hands.
"Threaten you?" Lorraine laughed. "I'm not threatening you, sweetheart. I'm merely telling it to you like it is. Without me, Shaw will be a failure—and I don't think you want that for him. Just ask him sometime how important that restaurant is to him. He already owes my father quite a bit of money. All I have to do is see that father doesn't let him borrow anymore."
"Shaw is not the kind of man to stoop to your petty style of blackmail." Brandy faced Lorraine. "If he can't get the money from you, he'll get it elsewhere. Shaw's a prominent man in town. It shouldn't be too hard."
For Eric's Sake Page 12
