Dance of Temptation

by Janice Sims

  She walked away, her hips swaying sexily.

  When she was gone, Belana laughed softly. “Oh, my God, I thought she was going to throw you on the table and have her way with you.”

  “She was just being friendly,” Erik said modestly. He picked up a menu and pretended to be immediately engrossed in it.

  Belana reached up and lowered the menu in his hands. “Don’t worry. I know you’re faithful to your infatuation with Ana. Back to my earlier question, why can’t men be faithful?”

  “To be fair, sis,” Erik said, putting the menu on the table, “women cheat, too. Who do you suppose the males are cheating with? The straight males, I mean. We are talking about heterosexuals?”

  “Of course,” said Belana with a touch of impatience.

  “Don’t get snippy, baby sis, or I’ll have to remind you why you’re really upset about Ana’s boyfriend’s infidelity.”

  Belana flashed him a belligerent challenge with her eyes. “Go on, Dr. Phil,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “Nicolas Reed.” After Erik had said the dreaded name he instantly regretted it. His sister’s eyes filled with tears and she started sniffing to hold them at bay. He snapped up a white cloth napkin from the table and handed it to her. “Sorry,” he said simply, his tone pleading for forgiveness. Belana took the napkin and dabbed at her wet face.

  She attempted a weak smile. “Damn, why do I still do that?”

  “Because you were in love with the guy and you don’t want to admit it,” Erik said as if the explanation should be obvious to her.

  “That can’t be it,” Belana denied emphatically. “I did the right thing by breaking up with him. He showed his true colors after only two months together; once a cheater, always a cheater.”

  “Yeah, but you said you two hadn’t had the commitment conversation yet. He didn’t know you wanted an exclusive relationship. You told me he looked shocked when you told him why you didn’t want to see him anymore. You can’t punish a guy for breaking the rules if the rules aren’t even in place.”

  “I instinctively knew we belonged together,” said Belana, knowing she sounded unreasonable. “Why didn’t he?”

  “Come on now, sis, you know how you’ve held men at arm’s length for years because you were the one afraid of settling down. And no wonder. You were abandoned by your mother when you were barely two and she hasn’t made any effort to be in your life ever since. Yes, you would wonder if you’d inherited her lack of commitment. Now, though, you know you’re not like our mother. You have the capacity for long-term commitment. You just need to find the right guy. And you cry at the mention of Nicolas Reed because you think you might have missed your chance due to a case of miscommunication. Sounds to me as if he was hoping you wanted to be exclusive, but you weren’t honest with him.” Erik paused, waiting for Belana’s response to his accusation. All he got from his sister was more silent tears.

  She rose. “Excuse me.”

  Erik rose too, his hand on her elbow. “Are you all right? Should we go?”

  Belana shook her head and picked up her bag. “I just need to wash my face. If the waiter comes before I get back, order for me. You know what I want.”

  Erik sat down, feeling helpless. Why hadn’t he kept his big mouth shut this time? He and Belana had always been close. Their parents divorced when Belana was two and he was seven. He remembered the fights between his parents as vividly as if they had occurred yesterday. Their mother, Mari Elizabeth Whitaker, known as Mari Tautou today, accused their father, John, of hindering her career, of trying to keep her barefoot and pregnant. Mari was a dancer. Belana had inherited that much from Mari. That’s where the comparisons ended. Mari had never wanted to be a mother. The housekeeper, Mrs. Kent, got Erik up for school every morning, made his breakfast, saw him off to school. When he returned, she was there to give him an afternoon snack, make sure he did his homework, give him dinner and put him to bed at night. Belana was too young to remember the neglect by their mother, but he hadn’t been. Mari couldn’t even fake affection. He had felt loved by their father, but he had felt like an inconvenience to his mother. Those were not warm memories. He thanked God he had Mrs. Kent and his grandmother, Drusilla, as mother figures. Drusilla was kind enough not to deride his mother in his presence, even though he was quite sure Drusilla didn’t like her. Now that he was an adult, Drusilla no longer held her tongue on the subject of Mari. She’d told him he had better not marry a woman simply because she was beautiful. His choice had better have something wonderful going for her other than her looks. “Your father was blinded by your mother’s looks,” Drusilla said of Mari. “If he had bothered to look deeper he wouldn’t have had anything to do with her.” Then she had smiled and gently rubbed his cheek. “He did get two good things out of his marriage, you and Belana.”

  Erik sighed deeply. The reason he had made Belana face her feelings for Nicolas Reed was because if she had dropped him because she feared commitment, and the misunderstanding that broke them up was not as monumental as Belana had described it, then she was allowing her mother to win. Allowing Mari to have an adverse affect on her life, when Mari never wanted to be a part of her life made no sense to Erik. By no means should Mari have that much influence. He would do everything in his power to prevent it.

  The waiter arrived. He cleared his throat because Erik was still deep in his own thoughts. “Good evening, sir. Would you like to hear the specials?”

  “No,” said Erik. “Just bring me two cheeseburgers, fries and vanilla milk shakes.”

  Belana liked comfort food after a show closed. Something in her was in mourning whenever a show ran its course. Carbohydrates gave her an emotional boost. Plus, she only splurged a few times a year; every other day of the year she stuck to a healthy diet.

  “Right away, sir,” said the waiter, a thin, middle-aged black man with a thin, graying mustache and absolutely no hair on his head. He wore the customary uniform consisting of a white shirt, black slacks and black comfortable shoes.

  When Belana returned, looking refreshed, she sat down to a meal that had just been brought to their table. She smiled at her brother. “You’re an angel.”

  Erik smiled knowingly. “Running an extra five miles is worth it.” He, too, liked to stay in shape.

  They both said silent prayers before beginning to eat. Erik watched Belana attack her burger and smiled. “So what did you decide in the bathroom? To continue our conversation or ignore it altogether?”

  Belana swallowed. She wiped some burger juices away from the corner of her mouth with the cloth napkin. “I’m not going to ignore it. But what can I do? It’s been eight months, he’s probably moved on. He was dating someone else when I ran into them, remember?”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s dating her now,” Erik said around a mouthful of burger. Belana frowned at his poor table manners. When they were kids he used to gross her out by showing her the food in his mouth while he was eating. At least he’d stopped doing that.

  Seeing her expression, Erik swallowed and took a sip of his milk shake while he awaited her response. When she still didn’t say anything, he said, “Chicken?”

  “I would be humiliated if I phoned him to try to get back together with him and he’s involved with someone else,” she admitted. She took a big bite of burger and chewed slowly, very slowly, letting her brother know that she would not be replying to any antagonistic questions any time soon.

  Erik knew her, though, and decided to eat in silence. When her plate was clean, she would have no excuse not to answer his questions.

  Halfway through their meal, Julie sauntered over to their table. “Is everything to your satisfaction?” she asked, smiling at Erik.

  Erik was pleased to be interrupted. His sister wasn’t making an effort to be a pleasant dinner companion. “Hi, Julie,” he said, giving her the benefit of his sexiest smile. “Yes, thank you, everything’s great.”

  Julie sighed and tossed her long, wavy red tresses over her shoulder. �
��Okay,” she said, drawing out the word as if she were reluctant to have to go. “Let me know if you need anything, and I mean anything.”

  Belana noticed the stress she’d put on the word “anything” and had nearly choked on a fry. Her brother, charming devil, smiled suggestively at Julie, and said, “I surely will.”

  Belana kicked him underneath the table.

  When Julie had gone, Erik frowned at his sister. “That hurt.”

  “I meant it to hurt,” Belana told him. Finished eating, she pushed her plate aside and pulled her milk shake forward to concentrate on it. “If you’re serious about Ana, you can’t go around flirting with waitresses. You see? That’s what I mean about men. I thought you loved Ana, and yet you can’t resist toying with the affections of an innocent bystander.”

  Erik laughed shortly. “Who said I was in love with Ana? I am in fantasy-love with Ana. There’s a difference. And there’s no harm in a little flirting.”

  “Until you take it to the next step, and believe me, Julie wants to take it to the next step. If you’re serious about Ana, I’ll help you. But I’m not going to help you get a date with Ana if you insist on behaving like a hound. She’s been hurt enough by men who didn’t know how to be faithful to one woman.”

  “She has?” Erik asked.

  “Don’t you know it’s the bane of the beautiful woman’s existence? Men want to be with beautiful women because they look good on their arms and make them the envy of other men. But beautiful women have a very hard time finding that one special guy who’ll love them for what’s inside, not for how they look.”

  “Ana told you she’d been hurt before pretty-boy actor broke her heart?”

  “A couple of times,” Belana told him. “So if you’re going to win Ana’s heart, you need to be unimpressed by her looks and get to know who she is on the inside.”

  There was a contemplative expression on Erik’s face. He twirled his straw around in his milk shake, thinking. Then he looked across the table and met his sister’s eyes. “I’d never do anything to hurt her.”

  Belana smiled, satisfied. “I’m glad to hear it. She’s going to be back in town in about three weeks. I’ll invite you both to dinner.”

  “No,” said Erik.

  “No?” cried Belana, surprised he would object to her fixing him up with the woman of his dreams.

  “No,” her brother repeated. “A dinner designed for us to be in the same room at the same time, and it’s just the two of us invited, will look contrived. I’ll wait until one of the family dinners during the holidays when there will be lots of people around. I don’t want her guard up before I can even begin to plead my case.”

  “It’s your call,” Belana said, resigned. “But it’s August. There are three months before Thanksgiving. What if she meets someone else?”

  “She won’t,” Erik said confidently. “We’re meant to be together, I feel it.”

  “I felt that way about Nick,” Belana reminded him. “But he apparently didn’t.”

  “That you know of,” countered Erik. “You’re too chicken to ask him.”

  “Yes, I am,” said Belana.

  “Then you’ll never know,” said Erik with a sad note to his voice. “Look, Belana, I can’t force you to do anything, but I have to say this. If you can’t get over your cowardice and go after Nicolas Reed if you really want him, then Mari wins. Even though she has managed to stay out of your life all these years, she will have ruined it.”

  The arrival of their waiter saved Belana from having to reply to that. “Can I get you anything else?” he politely asked.

  “No,” Erik told him. “Thank you.”

  The waiter promptly placed the check on the table. “Thank you for your patronage. Please come again.” He smiled faintly and walked away.

  Erik picked up the check, put a nice tip on the table, and rose. Belana picked up her bag. She sensed her brother’s mood. He was disappointed in her. She hated it when he put her on a pedestal, behaving as if she couldn’t have flaws in her character like normal people. So, she was being a bit of a coward and protecting her heart when it came to Nicolas Reed. Did that make her a bad person? No!

  Erik turned his back on her and began making his way to the front of the restaurant where he intended to pay the bill.

  “I’ll think about it,” Belana blurted.

  He stopped, turned and smiled at her. “Come here,” he said.

  She went into his outstretched arms and they hugged. “You’ve got to stop manipulating me with emotional blackmail,” she complained.

  “What are brothers for?” he asked with a smile.

  Chapter 3

  “Mykonos,” Belana repeated into the cell phone’s receiver.

  On her end, Patrice Sutton-McKenna said, “Yes, Mykonos. I’ve made arrangements for us to stay at a resort there. Didn’t you get my email? I sent you the resort’s website so you could check out the accommodations.”

  “When did you send it?” asked Belana. She was fastening a diamond bracelet around her right wrist as she talked with the phone held firmly between her left ear and her shoulder. In less than ten minutes Eli Braithwaite was supposed to pick her up for their first date. “I haven’t been online all day.”

  Patrice sighed. Belana was one of those people who actually preferred phoning everyone instead of emailing them. “I sent it this morning. Check your mail. Elle and I will meet you at the ferry.”

  “Elle’s going to get there before I do? She’s bringing Ari with her, right? I haven’t seen my niece in months.”

  “Yes, she’s bringing the little princess with her,” Patrice said. “But it’ll still be just us girls, no boys allowed.”

  “That’s cool,” Belana said. “I just want to be pampered. I will be pampered, won’t I?”

  Patrice laughed shortly. “Yes, your highness, you will be in the lap of luxury. Anything your heart desires will be at your disposal.”

  “Just so there’s a masseuse on the hotel’s staff,” Belana said. “My poor body could use a good massage.”

  “No worries,” Patrice assured her. “So, what time do you think you’ll be here?”

  “I should be there around eleven in the morning, your time,” Belana told her. “Hey, do you have any news for us?”

  “What kind of news?” Patrice asked, suspicious.

  “Baby news?” said Belana expectantly. A glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand in her bedroom told her she didn’t have time for word games.

  “I’m scheduled to shoot two films in the next six months,” Patrice said with a laugh.

  “That never stopped Angelina Jolie,” Belana persisted.

  “You’re asking me, how about you?” Patrice said, turning the tables. “You’re the same age as I am. When are you going to have a baby?”

  “I’d like to catch a man first.”

  “What are you using for bait?”

  “My usual exceptionally talented self,” Belana replied jokingly.

  “Any interesting prospects?” asked Patrice.

  Belana told Patrice about her date with Eli Braithwaite. “We’re going to a fundraiser that the Knicks throw every year to raise money to send inner-city kids to college.”

  “How old is he?” Patrice wanted to know.

  “He’s twenty-five.”

  “Three years younger than you.”

  “That doesn’t make me a cougar.”

  “No, not at all, but let’s hope he’s a mature twenty-five. You know you get bored easily.”

  “I’ve improved in that department. I’m determined to find my soul mate, get married and have a child or two.”

  “You sound so convincing,” Patrice intoned, sounding unconvinced.

  Belana laughed. “As one of my oldest and dearest friends, you’re supposed to show support instead of deriding me.”

  “As one of your oldest and dearest friends, I’m supposed to tell you the truth. Call me when you get back from your date. I’d like to know how that twenty-
five-year-old boy held up to your adult sensibilities.”

  “He seemed mature when I met him at a fashion show. Ana introduced us.”

  “How much time did you spend with him?”

  “About thirty minutes and then he asked me out.”

  Patrice harrumphed. “You’ve never been attracted to boys. You might think they’re pretty and flirt with them but when you date, you prefer really strong, highly confident men. They’re the only kind who can put up with you.”

  “Put up with me?” Belana cried, laughing. “You make me sound high-maintenance.”

  “You are,” Patrice said, telling it like it was. “Just call me later and we’ll finish this conversation then.”

  The doorbell rang. “Okay, talk to you later,” Belana said hurriedly.

  “That’s Eli, huh?” said Patrice.

  “Yeah, got to go,” said Belana, in even more of a rush.

  “I bet he brought flowers and candy. Oh, and a teddy bear,” Patrice joked. “Little boys always overcompensate because they want to be liked.”

  “Bye, Miss Smarty Pants,” said Belana, and hung up on Patrice.

  In her bedroom, Belana quickly shoved her cell phone into her clutch and stood in front of the full-length mirror one more time. She wore an off-white sleeveless dress that had a square neckline, which revealed a hint of cleavage, and whose hem fell two inches above her knees. It was well-made, but not a designer original. She spent money sparingly on designers, preferring instead to go with quality clothing she could find at any major department store. She did have a weakness for designer shoes, however. She bought them when they went on sale. Even though her father was a millionaire many times over, and she and Erik would never lack for money, they had been brought up not to be wasteful. Money, their father taught them, was to be used for a purpose, not simply to satisfy your whims. She had favorite charities she contributed to on a regular basis, and she liked spoiling friends and family on occasion with gifts that were unexpected and truly appreciated.