Taming Cupid

by Emily Bishop

“Right.”

  “Because of complications?”

  I don’t answer.

  Thankfully, Sabrina doesn’t push the issue. “So, she died and then…?”

  “As I took care of David, I started thinking about our futures and I decided to put up a gym. But why put up just one when I have the money to put up several? I mean, I had the money from my trust fund. So that’s what I did. I put up several. I started the company. And you know, the rest is history.”

  “Wow.” She squeezes my arm. “So you started out just being fit and then you set out to help others become fit and earned billions doing it.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Your family should be proud of you.”

  “But they’re not. My company may be successful but it’s nothing like the real estate company that Lloyd took over from my father or the oil company Helena’s husband has.”

  “But Lloyd inherited his company and Helena… well, she doesn’t own the company. It’s her husband’s. You built your own company and established your fortune.”

  “A fitness company? They don’t really care about that. But, hey, I don’t care.” I stroke her cheek. “I don’t need them to be proud of me or to support me. I’m fine and now, I’m even better because I have you.”

  She smiles, placing her hand over mine.

  I lean forward to kiss her but just as my lips have touched hers, the door bursts open.

  “Shit,” Sabrina mutters as she pulls the blanket up to her chin.

  “Daddy! Sabrina!” David runs to our bed.

  “What are you doing here, David?” I ask him with a frown as I sit up.

  “What?” David looks disappointed. “You said I could come here anytime.”

  I did say that but…

  “That was before I married Sabrina.”

  He glances at her. “Oh.”

  “Good morning, David,” she greets him with a sheepish grin.

  “Good morning,” he mumbles.

  “David, you can still come here anytime, but you have to promise to knock, okay?” I tell him.

  “Okay. So, do I go back out and knock then come in?”

  “Sure. Why don’t you go back out, and we’ll put on some clothes—”

  “You’re not wearing anything?” David asks, his expression one of confusion and surprise.

  Oops.

  Sabrina gives me a look of disapproval.

  “We are, but we have to put on more clothes, okay?” I lie.

  “Okay.”

  David reluctantly leaves the room. As soon as he’s out, Sabrina rushes out of bed.

  “Maybe next time, you should lock the door,” she whispers before going to the walk-in closet.

  “Sorry,” I mumble, putting on my robe.

  David knocks.

  “Wait a sec,” I tell him.

  After a minute, Sabrina comes out, dressed in a shirt and shorts. As soon as she’s back under the blanket, I call out, “You can come in now, David.”

  He does.

  “What do you need, David?” Sabrina asks him, happier now. “I know I promised we’d play a video game today but isn’t it a little early for that?”

  “That’s not why I’m here,” David says. “It’s because I wanted to show you something.”

  “What?” Sabrina and I ask at the same time.

  He goes to the computer and after a few moments, he shows us a video of his and Sabrina’s performance on YouTube.

  Sabrina gasps, her eyes wide. “Someone took a video of me?”

  “A lot of people were taking videos,” I tell her.

  “And they uploaded it to the Internet,” David says. “Look.” He points to the numbers below the video. “You have so many likes and views. Do you know what that means?”

  Sabrina shakes her head, her hands clasped over her mouth.

  “That a lot of people have seen the video?” I guess.

  “That means you have a lot of fans, Sabrina!” David says excitedly. “That means you’re famous!”

  ***

  “Whoa. So Sabrina is actually a singer?” Gil asks as he dribbles the ball, the sound of the rubber against the wood resonating throughout the full-sized, indoor basketball court that is Gil’s non-virtual playground.

  “Yup.” I pull my shorts up and squat in front of him, preparing to steal. “She left home to become a singer. I didn’t tell you that?”

  “No.”

  “She’s already sang in bars before in Memphis, though it was under a different name – Savannah Brown.”

  “So, that’s why I couldn’t find anything about her. She went by a different name.”

  I try to steal the ball from him but he dribbles out of reach.

  “Some people recognized her from her video,” I continue. “They said they knew she was talented and were surprised when she disappeared. They want to hear more of her. And the people who are hearing her sing for the first time are saying the same. They all say she should be a recording artist.”

  “Wow. All that based on one video?”

  He tries to make a drive to the basket but I stop him.

  “You should hear her sing. She’ll send shivers up your spine.”

  “I’d rather have something else send shivers up my spine.”

  He makes another drive. This time, he sneaks past me but as he jumps, I swat the ball away, sending it bouncing back on the floor and then chasing after it. I run to the other side of the court, aiming for a fast break but Gil is quick to recover, already on defense.

  I dribble the ball. “I know you do, but she’s really good.”

  Gil shakes his head. “You sound like a sailor bewitched by a mermaid, man.”

  “That’s how I feel, and I’m sure I’m not the only one.”

  “So, what? Are you going to produce her album or something? Maybe talk to some of those singers you know? You do have some friends in the music industry, right?”

  “Yup.”

  Some of my clients back when I was a personal fitness trainer were really famous.

  “I was thinking of helping to launch her music career,” I go on. “But then the video came out and it’s viral. This morning, Sabrina got a call.”

  “From?”

  I move closer and try to shoot the ball but it’s too short, falling into Gil’s hands. He breaks away from me, running to the other end. I don’t bother chasing him, watching him as he scores an easy lay-up.

  “8-6,” Gil announces. “I’ve got the lead.”

  “That was a lucky shot,” I tease him.

  “Maybe but sometimes, in this world, luck is all you need.” He passes me the ball. “So, who called Sabrina?”

  I dribble the ball. “There were two calls, actually. The first time, no one answered. Scared her a bit. The second one was from the Today Show. They want Sabrina to sing live on TV.”

  “Already?”

  “So, it seems she doesn’t need me to launch her career.”

  I go past him, shooting over him from the corner. This time, I score.

  8-8.

  “Time out,” Gil says, heading to the bench.

  I sit beside him, drinking water.

  “Did I tell you her video has close to half a million views already?” I wipe my face with a towel.

  Gil looks at me. “No way.”

  “Yes way.” I drink more water.

  “Maybe I will watch her video,” he says.

  “You do that. Otherwise, you might get left behind.”

  He puts the cap on his water bottle. “From nanny to celebrity. Who would have thought?”

  I nod. “I know.”

  “Aren’t you worried, though? If she’s famous, doesn’t that mean Vince might come after her? I thought you married her to keep her safe from him.”

  I’ve thought of that. I’ve thought that maybe if Sabrina’s famous, Vince might want her back all the more. Still…

  “You’re right. I married her to protect her, not to hide her or smother her. She deserves
to be famous, Gil. She deserves to make her dream come true. I can’t stop her. I don’t want to. I’ll just have to keep her safe while she’s doing it.”

  “He owns a music label, though, right? That means Sabrina will be within Vince’s reach.”

  “I know. She signed a contract with him, too, so he might come out with that.”

  Gil makes a disapproving sound with his tongue.

  “But if he does, I’m prepared to sue him. He won’t get Sabrina back. Just let him try.” I clench my fists. “I won’t even let him get near her.”

  “Scary.” Gil drinks some more water.

  I don’t care. I will crush anyone who tries to hurt her.

  “On another topic, are you going to the party this evening?” Gil asks.

  I pause. There’s a party this evening?

  “You know, the one NASA executives are throwing to raise funds for their latest project.”

  “Oh.”

  Tess did mention something like that.

  “You going?”

  I shrug.

  “Why don’t you go and bring Sabrina?”

  Come to think of it, that’s a good idea. If I’m with Sabrina, I might actually enjoy the evening. And she might, too. She’ll get more exposure. Plus, I’m sure security will be top-notch at the party so she won’t be in any danger.

  “Well?” Gil asks.

  I stand up, stretching my arms. “You know what? I think I’ll ask her.”

  ***

  “You want me to go to a party with you?” Sabrina looks at me with wide eyes, her hands still on the game controller, the game she and David are playing paused on the screen.

  I nod. “I know you don’t like parties but neither do I, so maybe, together, we can actually have fun at this one?”

  She falls silent as she touches her chin, thinking.

  “Can I come, too?” David asks.

  “Sorry, David, but no kids allowed at this party. Besides, you have school tomorrow.”

  David frowns.

  “Isn’t this one of the parties full of rich people, though?” Sabrina asks. “I’m not sure I’ll fit in.”

  “Well, you better start getting used to it because when you become a star, you’ll have to attend a few parties,” I tell her.

  “But what if Vince is there?”

  I haven’t thought of that.

  “Who’s Vince?” David asks.

  “No one,” I tell him.

  I go to Sabrina, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t think he’ll be there, but if he is, he’ll regret it.”

  Sabrina frowns. “I don’t want you causing a scandal.”

  “All right, I won’t touch him unless he touches you. I’m sure he won’t want to cause a scandal either.”

  Sabrina shakes her head. “I don’t like the sound of it.”

  “Hey.” I grab her hand. “You said you didn’t want to live in fear anymore, right? If you become famous, and you will, you have to go to parties. Vince could be at any of them. Does that mean you won’t go just because you might run into him? If he isn’t there, good. If he is, you don’t have to be afraid. I’ll be with you. And if you can’t face him now, you never will.”

  For a moment, she’s silent. Then she nods.

  “All right, I’ll go.”

  I smile.

  “But what will I wear?”

  Party

  Sabrina

  I hold my breath as I enter the Space Center, gripping Randall’s hand tightly with one hand and the other holding the skirt of my glittering pink gown so I don’t step on it. I would have sewn the hem but I didn’t have the time. I barely had time to pick a gown as it was, not to mention time to bring my hair back to the golden shade it used to be and to have it styled.

  I wanted to make a good first impression at my first high-end party, after all.

  I can’t tell if I’m succeeding. I can see heads turning. I can feel gazes on me, from men and women. I can’t tell what they’re thinking, though.

  Why are they staring? Don’t they know it’s rude to stare? Is it because they’ve never seen me before? Is it because, on the contrary, they’ve seen my YouTube video, which I still can’t believe exists? Is it because of my gown? Did I pick the wrong one? It is quite simple, plain pink with a fairly modest Queen Anne neckline. Or is it because I’m with Randall?

  Strange. Randall said he didn’t like these parties but he seems comfortable. He’s even smiling at some of the guests.

  “Liar,” I whisper to him. “You seem to be loving the party.”

  “That’s because I’m with you,” he says, turning his head to look at me. “I’m with the most beautiful, talented woman in the room.”

  I snort but blush. “You just brought me to show me off, didn’t you?”

  “Of course,” Randall confesses. “Consider it a marketing strategy. Soon, you’ll have your own album and these people may remember seeing you here, and they might just become curious enough to buy a copy.”

  “These people? Buy my album?” I raise an eyebrow. “I’m sure they only listen to live music played by orchestras like this one.”

  “You’d be surprised,” he tells me. “Some of these people might even listen to Justin Bieber and Carly Rae Jepsen in their limousines.”

  I chuckle. Really? These people who look like they only eat food prepared by Michelin-starred chefs and don’t wear the same outfit twice?

  As I look around, I keep an eye out for Vince. What Randall said was right. I mustn’t skip these parties just because I might meet him. If I do, I might as well hide under a rock.

  No. I won’t do that. If he’s here, then I’ll just have to face him with my chin held high and my shoulders straight.

  That doesn’t mean I’m not afraid, though.

  “It will be all right,” Randall tells me as if he’s just read my mind, touching my hand. “I’m here and I’m never going to leave your side.”

  I nod, trusting him.

  “Well, well, look who showed up tonight,” a familiar voice calls my attention.

  Turning my head, I smile at Gil. “I didn’t know you’d be here, too.”

  “Randall didn’t tell you?” Gil narrows his eyes at Randall. “I was the one who actually suggested that he bring you along.”

  “Really?” I look at Randall for confirmation but he gives none.

  “Maybe he wants you all for himself, and I don’t blame him,” Gil says, smiling at me. “You look stunning.”

  I blush. “Thank you.”

  “And sparkling, too, just like the star Randall says you will be.”

  I look down. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I don’t want to be a star, really. I just want to sing.”

  “As you should. I watched your video, and I fell in love with you.”

  Randall clears his throat.

  “I mean your voice, as I’m sure many have. When your album comes out, I’ll buy a thousand copies.”

  “A thousand?” I give him a look of surprise.

  “I told you the guests here would buy copies,” Randall whispers to me.

  Yes, he did. But a thousand?

  “Come.” Randall holds my hand. “Let me introduce you to some of the other guests.”

  ***

  An hour later, I’ve lost track of all the guests I’ve met. I know someone was the head of something at NASA, one was an astronaut, one was a Senator’s brother. One woman, who was the wife of some CEO, said she had seen my video. I can’t remember all their names, much less match the name to the face to the title.

  There are just too many of them.

  “How do you remember who’s who?” I ask Randall as I take a sip from my second glass of champagne.

  “I don’t,” Randall confesses, drinking from his own glass. “If you noticed, I only introduced you to someone and that person introduced you to someone else and… well, you get the idea.”

  “So, you just need to know one person?”

  “You need to know the right per
son,” Randall answers.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Brewster, am I correct?” a voice interrupts us.

  I tense. It’s a familiar voice, too, but it isn’t Gil’s.

  It’s the voice of the person I’ve been dreading to see.

  Vince. I had a feeling he was going to appear tonight.

  I take a deep breath, straightening my shoulders before turning around to face him.

  “Yes, you’re correct,” I say, gripping Randall’s arm as I stick out my chin.

  “And you are?” Randall asks.

  “Vincent Lestair.”

  I feel Randall’s body tense, too. He’s angry. I can feel it.

  He reminds me of a wolf who has just seen his prey, ready to pounce, fangs bared and hocks raised.

  I squeeze his arm.

  Easy, boy.

  “Never heard of the name,” Randall says, calming down a little but with his jaw still clenched.

  “Really?” Vince’s brows furrow. “Surely, Mrs. Brewster has mentioned it.” He looks at me. “It is Mrs. Brewster, isn’t it?”

  “She already said it was,” Randall says.

  “Sorry,” Vince says. “It’s just that I find her very familiar, almost like someone who was very dear to me.”

  My heart pounds.

  “I’m sure you’re mistaken,” I tell him, hanging on to my composure.

  Like Randall said, if I can’t face him here, I won’t be able to face him anywhere.

  “Funny.” Vince’s gaze goes down my dress, and I suppress a shudder. “You look exactly like her. Same eyes. Same—”

  “She said you were mistaken,” Randall cuts him off.

  “Of course,” Vince says. “My mistake. Everyone makes mistakes, you know. Even me.”

  What is he trying to say?

  “Careful,” Randall warns as he swirls the golden liquid around in his glass. “Some mistakes have a price. A very steep price.”

  “Yes.” Vince doesn’t flinch. “I’m sure now that it isn’t her. After all, the woman I knew could speak for herself and stand up for herself.” He glances at me. “She wouldn’t hide behind her husband.”

  Is that a challenge?

  “I don’t appreciate you insulting my wife, Mr. Lestair,” Randall tells him.

  “Oh, no insult meant.” Vince laughs it off. “Maybe she just looks familiar because she looks like someone I’ve seen on the Internet recently.”