A slow smile took over her face.
Maybe they were done fighting. A jolt went through his body along with a flash of their wedding night.
“Why don’t we all go sit down?” His mother let out a shaky laugh.
“Shall we?” With Willow still firmly attached to his side, he took Nan’s arm and led them into the dining room.
Willow tightened her grip on him the moment they stepped inside. Done in dark woods to match the majority of the house and with a table that could easily sit twenty, the dining room was impressive indeed.
Apparently, his mother felt the need to put on airs for the two people who wouldn’t be easily smitten by their ostentatious display of wares, but instead overwhelmed. She had the staff lay out their best china, linens and crystal.
With his drink still in hand, his father entered from the opposite side of the room and took his position at the head of the table.
His mother took her place beside him, and he guided Willow to their spots. Nan let go of him and took a seat by his mother. The five of them looked ridiculous scrunched together at one end of the table.
“Isn’t this room a bit huge for only us?” His father looked around as if he expected a parade of people to join them.
“I wanted to have our dinner in here. Stephanie always loved this room.” His mother motioned for the staff to begin serving and sighed. “I thought Willow would like it as well.”
The first time his mother mentioned her, the chaos of his mother and the dog blunted any more discussion of the matter. His throat dried out. A staff member came around the table and poured him some water. More than once Willow asked if there was anything she needed to know and told him not to blindside her.
Willow lifted her hand.
He needed a diversion as good as the dog and spied the dish of lemon wedges. Not caring about his next move, he did the unthinkable and leaned way over the table to retrieve it. “Willow.”
“Randolph, what are you doing? Sit down.” His mother fanned herself.
“I thought Willow might like some lemon with her water.” He practically fell back into his chair.
“Then someone will bring it around.”
“I wanted to give it to her.” He held out the dish to her and graced her with a smile. “Willow, did I tell you that our grounds have several lemon trees, as well as lime, orange, peach, nectarine, apple and avocado?”
“Since when did you go out on the grounds?” His father grunted.
“Willow loves nature.” He kept the dish out. “We also plant herbs, which I will show you after dinner, if you like.”
“We do?” His mother shook her head.
He decided not to acknowledge the woman. She might continue speaking, which could mean Stephanie’s name would bubble back up to the surface after his successful redirect. “Willow, would you like a wedge of lemon with your water?”
She took the little tongs and selected a slice. “What I would really like to know is who is Stephanie?”
“Someone I used to know.” He didn’t expect her to be that focused and he answered fast, too fast.
Rather than continuing to deal with him, she looked across the table at his mother, the hub of all gossip and things women wanted to know.
Still, he couldn’t give up without trying every last tactic. Once more he stood up. “Mother, would you like a slice of lemon?” He thrust the dish toward her. “It’s from our tree.”
“Sit down.” She furrowed her brow and shooed him away.
He sat. Silence encompassed the room and he drank down his plain water without a lemon wedge.
Luck on his side, the staff entered with the salad and wine. Hopefully the arrival of glazed pecans and blue cheese would get everyone talking about vinaigrette.
“My son is the one who loves the lemon. Will you please bring this to him?” She lifted the dish to hand it to one of the staff. “Stephanie gave this to us that one Christmas we didn’t go back east.”
He put his arm around the back of Willow’s chair. “We will be going back east this holiday.”
“Not unless someone tells me who Stephanie is,” she growled.
“Stephanie was Dolph’s fiancée.” His mother spoke as if she were spewing gossip at one of her lunches. “They had been together off and on since high school. I thought we were going to have a huge wedding, but Dolph would never set a date.”
His appetite completely vanished and a glance out of the corner of his eye told him Willow’s did as well. Her perfectly pale complexion morphed into something more sallow. The revelation of the identity of Stephanie might qualify as one of those blindsiding items. Willow had asked about the woman he was supposed to marry, but he made it sound as if it were only a passing fling.
“Shame on Dolph. He could have had a wonderful extravaganza.” Willow snapped her fingers. The little fur ball ran over to her and she picked him up. She picked a carrot off her plate with her fingers, put it between her teeth, and bent down to the dog. Her pet took the carrot right from her lips and chomped away.
Holy Hell, she fed the dog from her mouth like a baby bird. He wasn’t sure if he was disgusted or captivated.
His mother pushed her plate away. One thing was certain. His marriage would be amazing for his mother’s diet she always complained about.
“I know. I thought when he didn’t’ come home last night he would be surprising us with a formal engagement.” His mother reached for his father’s scotch.
“Well, instead you got the whole thing taken care of at once.” Willow picked up a few lettuce leaves, shoved them in her mouth and allowed the dog to lick her fingers. “Well, as you can imagine I am exhausted from getting married and all, so I’m going to head on up to bed and let you celebrate Dolph’s birthday. Nan will need the kitchen in a bit.”
Without any warning, Willow stood, causing his father and him to stand as well.
“Please stay here with us, I’m sure there’s cake.” He winced.
“You really have a thing for cake. Maybe you should have had a wedding.” She walked around the table, handed the dog to Nan and without another glance at anyone in the room, left.
He caught Nan’s gaze from across the table. She lifted her eyebrows and then turned her attention to her salad.
“Well, we do have cake.” His mother pressed her palm to her cheek. “Perhaps we can have one of the staff take your wife up a plate.”
“I’ll do it.” Damn everything. He drank down the rest of his flavorless water. Willow knew what she signed up for. They had a contract and she included a dog. Still, he more than blindsided her, he sort of slapped her in the face.
Chapter Five
The house of Van Ayers was a lot like living in a fancy hotel. Since walking away from the dinner gone wrong, various members of the staff had knocked. First someone brought her dinner, a scrumptious chicken dish with some sort of rich sauce she wanted to lick off the plate. The second person arrived with her drink, or drinks, including wine, water with the homegrown lemon and a cup of hot tea. Lastly, the famous cake. The dessert with its layers of chocolate and strawberry was amazing. She wanted to shove her face in the plate, but even without Mrs. Van Ayers to watch her manners, she took small bites, wiped her mouth with the linen napkin and sat back politely.
After someone came up and took her dishes, another person arrived and presented her with an extra blanket and towels.
No wonder Randolph nearly melted down over what he called substandard champagne the night before. She was surprised one of their beloved staff didn’t pre-chew his food for him.
Finally alone, she took her time to study the suite. Their wing, as Randolph called it, consisted of several rooms including an office for him, a couple of what appeared to be guest rooms, and an extra bathroom. Even with all the space, they still put Nan in her own suite of rooms in a different wing of the house.
Their actual suite consisted of a bedroom area, a sitting area, the largest bathroom she ever saw, and a closet bigger than most people’s
apartments. In fact, the closet boasted a chair and a couch and a full on changing area. While Randolph’s clothes filled racks and racks, her scant few items only took up a few inches. All the furniture appeared to be antique and everything was exceptionally neat, as if no one truly lived here.
However, more than anything, the art stood out. While the entire mansion contained beautiful works, Randolph’s suite boasted incredible masterpieces. His taste skewed more toward modern pop art with vibrant colors, including a set of paintings of suited men and women behind desks in corporate jobs but done up as cartoon characters, and a picture of nothing but multi-colored squares. No wonder he hung around the gallery.
After her explorations, she picked up her contract and attempted to seriously read the pages. A few lines in, she opted to work on crocheting some squares for her next afghan, and lost herself in the repetitive, calming task.
A soft knock interrupted her.
“Come in?” Unsure of the etiquette, she sat back and waited for the next staff member.
Thus far, every knock came with an announcement of what she was about to receive.
Instead, the door opened and Randolph peeked his head inside.
She ground her teeth together. Her alone time was officially over.
“I brought you something.” He stepped inside with hand behind his back.
“You’re giving me plenty.” She put her craft down and lifted the contract.
“Do you have any questions about it?” He closed the door and held out his peace offering in the form of a piece of cake.
“Should I?” She fanned her face with the pages.
He came forward and held the plate out.
“Your staff was much quicker than you, but thanks.” It wasn’t lost on her that he didn’t come running after her after she left. Their marriage was merely a business deal, nothing more. The passion or whatever she felt before was nothing but a much needed a release. She reminded herself to keep her distance and get her job done. It didn’t matter if Stephanie was much more than a hired hand.
“Okay, hopefully we can share it later.” He put the dish down on the side table, reached behind his back again and offered her a single pink rose. “Maybe you’ll accept this little token as my apology.”
“What are you apologizing for?” She pressed her back into the overly stuffed chair.
He took a seat on the ottoman in front of her. “I didn’t mean to blindside you with Stephanie.”
Fine, he used her word, surely the tactic of a businessman. Still, she wanted to see his reasoning. “How so?”
“That is not the way you should have found out about my past relationships. I know it must be hard.” He reached forward and put his hand on her knee. “I assure you it’s completely over.”
She crossed her legs forcing Randolph’s hand off her, but stayed silent.
“I don’t want you to think I would ever cheat on you.” His voice lowered.
“Randolph, I need to ask you something.”
“It was over before I ever thought of marrying you.” Again, he held the rose out to her.
“Okay, that wasn’t my question.” She glanced at the flower but didn’t accept the token of affection which represented a different kind of relationship.
“Ask me anything.” He placed the flower on the arm of the chair, taking a moment to balance the blossom before sitting back.
“Let’s say you didn’t have to get married and you weren’t with anyone, would you have asked me out on a date?” Whether she would have accepted the date was another question, but she needed the answer.
His face went blank. No smile, no frown, nothing. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s simple.” She tilted her head. “Would you or would you have not asked me out? Would you have seen me and thought, that is the girl I want to take to dinner, kiss goodnight, make love to?”
A slow smile crept on his face. “I think you are beautiful and we are married and I would love to make love to you again. Last night was nothing short of spectacular. More than I could have ever dreamed of.” He extended one finger and traced her kneecap.
At his touch shivers consumed her. Unfortunately, she was privy to what the man could do with those fingers, his tongue, and his body. Deep down she knew if he had ever been nice to her she would have accepted a date with him and kicked herself later. She slapped his hand away like an unwanted fly. “When you dreamed, did you dream of me?”
Once more his face went blank. “We’re married.”
“I signed a contract as did you,” she corrected.
“You were upset, but I want you to know Stephanie is over. My mother made it seem like more than it was.”
“Randolph, let me make something perfectly clear.”
He continued staring at her.
“I could care less about your past relationships, who you loved, who you didn’t.”
“I didn’t love her.” He held up his hand.
“It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head. “What matters is when you enter into a business agreement with someone there needs to be full disclosure, something you did not give me and therefore you made me look like a fool. That’s something I will not tolerate again.”
“I don’t want to hurt you. I told you, it’s over.”
“You can’t hurt me because we are only connected by a contract.” She flicked the papers. “Don’t think I don’t know it’s completely over, and you will stick by your fidelity clause if you end up with red, raw palms before this year is out. For a man to fight as long and hard as you did and almost lose, I have no doubt it’s over, and I have no doubt you won’t cheat on our fictional relationship.”
“Willow.” He ran his hand through his hair.
She almost smiled when his curls bounced right back into position as if they were trained. Instead, she handed him back the rose.
“Anyone ever tell you that you would have made a great negotiator?” He took the flower, put it aside and rubbed his neck.
“Maybe.” For the most part they called her stubborn, but she would never admit it. “Why don’t you go take a hot shower for your neck?”
“Incredible.” He tilted his head toward the cake. “Would you like a few bites?”
“No, I think I’m going to go say goodnight to Nan.” She got up.
Like every time she stood, he did as well. “Remember, we’re still married and we share a bed.”
“It’s all right here.” She pressed the contract into his chest. “You better hide that before it’s discovered.” They made a mockery of a sacred pact, turned it into a business deal, but even on the first day emotions came into play. She didn’t know how they would fix their mess in a year. Maybe there would be cake.
* * * *
Bed.
Randolph stared at his four-poster mahogany bed.
Up until the moment he brought his new wife to his family home, his bed was his biggest nemesis. He narrowed his eyes at the seemingly benign piece of furniture. Most would call it a place of rest and comfort. He called it a nightmare where the moment he laid down every thought entered his mind, taunting him awake. With Willow’s words still fresh in his mind, he didn’t see any dreams of her or otherwise happening any time soon. On a night like tonight he wouldn’t have even tried, he would have left and let loose some of his pent up energy in a more creative way than having sex.
The bathroom door opened and the jingle bell of one pampered pet’s collar and the light humming of his spouse interrupted his glaring.
“It’s 11:45, we made it.” In a long flowing light blue nightgown Willow seemed to float around the room they would share for the next 364 days. “Are you going to get in bed?”
“Ladies first.” He motioned toward the oversized deceptive mound of feathers and stuffing inviting his wife into his bed to sleep.
“Big, beautiful boys first.” Willow raised her voice as if she were talking to a baby, bent down and plopped the living powder puff up on his sleeping area.
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“The dog can’t sleep in the bed.” He had never seen a dog that looked like Jeb. Unlike the name which should be given to a big, burly animal, Willow’s pet weighed at most four pounds and he was convinced most of the weight was from a copious amount of white fur. If his mother caught the animal on her million thread count sheets, she might faint. Suddenly, he wanted the dog in the bed. “Doesn’t he sleep in Nan’s room?”
“Jeb and I are a set.” She crossed her arms. “We sleep in the same place.”
They both stopped and watched as the fluffy thing walked around practically sinking into the comforter. The animal went around in a circle, once, twice, a third and a fourth time and at last, curled up basically blending into the bedding.
He supposed aside from every other item that entered his mind as soon as he entered the bed, he could add fear of killing an almost canine to the list. One wrong turn and they would have a dead dog. “Is he comfortable? Does he need anything else, perhaps a silk pillow?”
“He’s low maintenance.” She pulled back the blankets and slipped between the sheets.
“I don’t know why I don’t believe you.” He took his side of the bed and stared up at the ceiling.
“Did you ever have a pet?” She leaned over to the nightstand and opened the drawer.
Not sure what she could have put there he glanced over to find her with one of her salve bottles. At least she used her own product. “No, I never had a pet.”
“That’s really a shame.” She opened the bottle, poured some lotion into her hand and rubbed it into her arms.
The scent of roses and lavender filled the air and he caught himself staring at her. “Why is it a shame?”
“A pet is its own kind of love. It is also good for balance and calms the spirit.” She moved to her other arm. “If you had a pet what kind of pet would you have wanted?”
Well, at least she was speaking to him, but the conversation had no depth or emotion. He might as well tell her what he did on his summer vacation. “I don’t know. I suppose you can’t say I don’t have a pet anymore.” He lifted his head to ensure his pet remained as far away from him as possible.
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