On The Dotted Line

by Kim Carmichael

  “What do you love?” She looked up to his face smiling at the smile on his lips.

  “I love the way I can feel you orgasm. It’s incredible.” He gave her a light kiss. “Actually, even more than that, I love you.”

  Time stopped, the world stopped, her heart stopped. In the universe those were three of the most powerful words one could speak. “Randolph?”

  “I do, Willow.” His playful smile faded and he stared into her eyes. “I love you.”

  She studied the man she married in a moment of desperation. Even in the middle of their insane situation, they still found each other. No one had said anything like that since she became an adult. “I love you too.” More than any vow, those were the words that would bind them together forever. “I love you, too.” She could never lose him and hugged him close.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Randolph took a breath to abate the dread that wanted to take over him before giving a nod to Dimitri.

  “Your wife is waiting for you.” Their head of staff smiled and opened the door to the car.

  He paused for only a moment more, vowing that no matter what the night held for him, he would not get angry, upset or frustrated. Though he didn’t want to attempt another dinner with the Hartfords, the plans were put in place before he had the opportunity to intervene. The first dinner ended in a disaster of such epic proportions, then Willow spilled wine on Millicent at the party, as the saying went, bad things happened in threes.

  In the week since their getaway he watched, or tried to watch, Willow plan the event, but she wouldn’t allow him to touch her calendar or be privy to any of the happenings. Every time he asked, she distracted him with, well, with her. All he knew was the family car would be picking them up at seven to take them to a restaurant. What he really wanted to do is get her back to their apartment at the marina and recreate their weekend.

  Their apartment. He smoothed down his suit jacket. Everything that was once his was now theirs. At last he entered the car, slipping across the leather seat to join his wife.

  Well, one thing was his and his alone. He took in his gorgeous bride. Dressed in a black strapless gown, with her hair swept up and light makeup, the word gorgeous didn’t accurately describe her. He ran his hand through his hair. “Good evening beautiful Mrs. Van Ayers.”

  “Hello Mr. Van Ayers.” She slid over and gave him a kiss.

  “Please tell me this is a big surprise and we aren’t having a business dinner, but instead we are going to a hotel or somewhere.” He kissed her again, a light one to not mess up her makeup. “Alone.” Maybe the worst thing that happened could be they stood the Hartfords up, but with his plan he would only have to take the fall and keep Willow out of the line of fire.

  She pressed her palm to his cheek. “I am sorry, but we have reservations at The Heights and your big clients are meeting us there.”

  All right, she got into The Heights on a Friday night. Could be a good sign or a bad one. The proper restaurant only meant the proper restaurant. They were still open to a whole host of variables that could wrong. He tilted his head.

  Dimitri drove them through Beverly Hills. Willow took his hand and sat back. “I offered to have a car service pick up the Hartfords, but they are coming separate and Ms. Hartford’s secretary said it wasn’t necessary.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

  “That was very kind of you.” He stared at her. Could be her plan was to get the Hartfords drunk and they wouldn’t remember the evening, therefore the car service.

  She simply smiled and crossed her legs revealing a slit right above her knee, tasteful but tantalizing, and above all else distracting.

  “Are you trying to torture me?” He traced his finger along the bit of skin showing.

  “It’s not torture when you know you will be relieved. Then it’s anticipation.” She squirmed in the seat, making the dress rise up a bit.

  “From where I’m sitting, it’s torture.”

  “Would it make you feel better if I told you I have something for you?” She opened her handbag.

  Nothing he wanted would fit in her purse. He used her move and shrugged.

  With a shake of her head she pulled a little black box and opened it, revealing two cufflinks with dark brown stones. “You got me some quartz, and when I saw this smoky quartz today I knew you had to have it.”

  He leaned over to admire them.

  “Smoky quartz boosts business creativity.” She reached for his wrist, took off his gold cufflink and replaced it with his new one. “It also opens up your perceptive paths. I know work has been stressful.”

  “Slate really wants me involved in this co-op, and I want to make sure it’s right.” He swore Willow was clairvoyant even if she denied it. “I’m unsure about his partner and their collateral. I know what Slate owes on his mortgage for the gallery.”

  “You are just being more careful because he’s your friend, that’s good.” She lifted his wrist.

  “I just don’t want him to get clouded by the opportunity if it’s not right.” The stone didn’t match his tie, but Willow gave them to him and they had a story that meant more than coordination. “I need more perceptive paths for sure.”

  “It’s also the stone of endurance.” She glanced up to his eyes and leaned forward giving him a quick shot of her cleavage.

  Without hesitation he offered her his other wrist. “I want endurance.” Especially later in bed.

  One side of her mouth lifted in a knowing, naughty grin and she replaced the second cufflink. “You don’t have that issue.” She put his other cufflinks in the box and pulled a tie with a brown swirl out of her bag. “I also brought this with me. I wouldn’t want you not to match.”

  The strip of silk unrolled like a ribbon from her hand, and he stopped short of taking it.

  “What’s wrong?”

  How did she learn about him down to the tie? “Nothing.”

  “Do you need help?”

  “Yes.” Help, and a lot of other things, especially if they were going to make it through dinner and on to endurance activities.

  She unknotted his tie with expertise and pulled it out from under his collar.

  Once more he stared down at her chest, but rather than taking in her assets, he noticed she wore the necklace he gave her for the holiday. “If the quartz you gave me has a meaning, what does the one I gave you mean?”

  Her cheeks flushed as she looped the new tie around his neck.

  “Don’t hold back now.” He took her hands and helped her with the knot.

  “It’s the love stone, love in marriage.”

  “Then I picked the right one without even realizing it.”

  She used the tie to pull him toward her. “I guess the stone worked.”

  “Indeed.” Forgetting the lipstick, he indulged and kissed her, opening his mouth to get a little appetizer before dinner.

  The car stopped and Dimitri cleared his throat and coughed.

  As she pushed him back, he groaned.

  “Everything will be fine.” She wiped his lower lip then straightened his tie and collar.

  “Of course it will,” he said, mainly to convince himself. Thus far, everything was too smooth. Rather than it calming him, his stomach twisted. Millicent could find fault in anything.

  “Let’s go.”

  Dimitri opened the door and helped Willow out.

  Randolph followed and took her hand, opening the door for them. Unlike the last dinner where loud music bolted through him and he waded through a crowd of people, he was met with soft piano music, a classic dim lit interior and a maître d’ in a tuxedo. “Van Ayers.”

  “We’ve been expecting you.” The maître d’ made a note on a piece of paper. “Would you like to wait for the others in your party?”

  “Would you mind if I checked the table?” Willow practically whispered.

  “Of course. It is the one in the back you requested for your meeting.” The man nodded and led them back. “I also have th
e list of wine we keep for your family.”

  She remembered the table and the wine. Obviously, his wife put some thought into their evening. He tried to inhale. “I could use some wine.” Or preferably a glass of Scotch or four.

  Willow tangled her arm in his and assessed the table. “Would you mind giving the list to my husband along with a glass of your…” She paused and took a small slip of paper out of her purse. “…Glenden 27-year-old Single-Malt Scotch.”

  He glanced over to see the paper. She ordered his Scotch, his favorite Scotch.

  “Of course, Mrs. Van Ayers.” The man nodded. “I take it the table is to your liking?”

  “Perfect.” She smiled.

  “I will go look for the rest of your party.” The maître d’ left.

  Willow led him to where she wanted him to sit. “Are you all right?”

  “You ordered my Scotch.” He pulled out the chair next to him and waited for her to sit.

  “Yes.” She sat and took his hand as he took his place.

  At last he managed to pluck the little scrap paper out of her hand. “You took notes.” While he expected to find a list of items not to forget for their dinner, he found something quite different. “What is this?”

  “Nothing.” She held her hand out.

  “Loves bacon, hates runny egg yolks, light lunch but wants something sweet in the afternoon, prefers red meat but will eat anything at dinner, likes a before dinner drink, likes his dessert, especially any cake, sneaks a soda when he thinks no one sees him drinking it.” He read her note aloud. Underneath she noted some of his favorite brands, including the Scotch and two last lines. “Prefers extra starch on his shirts, make sure to remind Rosa. Ask about the boots in the closet.”

  “Randolph.” She retrieved her cheat sheet on him. “That wasn’t for you.”

  “It’s all about me.”

  Her cheeks reddened. “I just didn’t want to forget certain things.”

  No one ever took the time to know him like his wife. Maybe his worries about the evening were unfounded. “What do you want to know about boots?”

  “The ones with the buckles and the zippers.”

  His mind flashed on the pair in question. “I bought them in graduate school and never wore them.”

  “But you wanted to.” She touched his chin.

  “I suppose.”

  “I want you to go with what you want and wear them for me.”

  “Just the boots and nothing else.” He raised his eyebrows and leaned in to kiss her.

  She put her hand up to his lips. “Then later I’ll just wear the nothing else, but now you must let me play hostess.”

  “You’re right.” He took her hand and kissed the back, wanting the dinner to be a success more for her than him.

  They both stood when Millicent came around the corner with the maître ‘d. “My brother is running late.” She barked. “I have no idea what he’s doing, he’s not working.”

  “Good evening to you, Millicent.” He rushed over and led her to the chair on the other side of him. “So glad you could join us.” Millicent was already in a mood. His chest constricted. Ever since he knew the Hartfords they traveled as a pair.

  She shook her head and plopped into the chair. “Well, well, this is different. Much better than before.”

  Where was that Scotch? Leave it to his client to state the obvious. He broke out into a sweat and glanced at Willow. His wife seemed stuck. He needed to bail her out and opened his mouth.

  “Well, I thought I would go for something a little off the beaten path.” Willow spoke at last.

  Oh no. He grabbed the edge of the table. When riled up, Willow could whip words with the best of them.

  “I tried to get reservations at the local sports bar, because I really thought you may enjoy some fried foods and beer, but they were booked.” Willow opened her bag and took something out.

  A flash of metal caught his eye. Willow brought a gun. He found the strength to lift his hand. His wife was going to kill Ms. Hartford, and with all the witnesses around even with the best attorneys at his disposal he would never be able to clear her name.

  With wide eyes Millicent stared at her.

  Willow put her hand behind her back and made her way around the table.

  “Why don’t we choose a wine?” Maybe a red would mask the blood.

  “Instead, I opted for my second choice with my husband’s first rate clients, and a little gift I made especially for you.” She bent down by Millicent and held out her hand, revealing a little metal tin.

  “Heart-tea?” Millicent turned to him and back to the tin.

  “Yes, I custom blend teas, and this one is for you.” She took Millicent’s hand and placed the tin in her palm. “This one contains Rhodiola for strength, athletes even use it.”

  “Oh. A tea named after me.” Millicent held the tin up. “I like it.”

  Willow gave her a broad smile.

  His wife calmed the beast. He exhaled and went to sit when the maître d’ appeared again with Vincent and Nan.

  Nan? Did Willow invite Nan?

  “Hello everyone, Chiquita.” Nan waved.

  Willow straightened and turned to her.

  “I thought this was a business dinner.” Millicent put the tea aside and stood, glaring in Willow’s direction. “Last time it was assistants. How are we supposed to conduct a meeting? There is a protocol here with invitations.”

  A quick scan of the table only showed four chairs. Willow checked the table, all the evidence pointed to the fact she only invited four people.

  “Calm down Millie, I’m the one who invited the woman I love.” Vincent lifted Nan’s hand to his chest. “I thought since we would have everyone from both sides here we would make our announcement.”

  He froze and the color left Willow’s face.

  “What would that be?” Millicent growled.

  Vincent held out Nan’s hand with a new diamond rivaling Willow’s on her finger. “I thought we would turn tonight into an engagement party.”

  “What?” Willow reached out.

  Instinct took over and Randolph hurried to his wife, but he was too late. In an unprecedented move, Millicent took Willow’s arm and pulled her close.

  A waiter came over and set the glass of Scotch in on the table.

  He pushed the glass of Scotch toward the women. “Will you please bring us the bottle?” As soon as they got home he was throwing the calendar away.

  * * * *

  “So for two weeks I have been walking around with the ring in my pocket wondering when the right time would be to pop the question.” Vincent told the story for the third time and waved his fork around like a flag.

  Willow stared down at her steak cooked to perfection. She managed to get a few bites down, but the steak, along with Nan and Vincent’s announcement, swirled in her stomach creating a wave of nausea. “Is this over yet?” She leaned into Randolph.

  “I suppose you decided right before a business meeting was a good time to make a life-long decision. Poor Willow and I were completely blindsided.” Millicent downed her wine.

  “Are you all right?” Randolph whispered in her ear.

  “As long as I don’t have to plan dinner ever again.” Heat took over her body and she broke out into a sweat. She tried, really tried, to plan a magnificent dinner. Since they returned from their weekend, she wanted to show Randolph what she could do, especially for the man she loved. She researched and planned and had everything perfect, and he was supposed to be proud of her. Instead, she would be forever known as the woman with the planning disasters. They would have been better off in a sports bar. On the plus side, Millicent seemed to take a liking to her which was a good thing since they were going to be sort of related.

  “You really did an incredible job if it wasn’t for—” Randolph paused. “for—”

  “Just say it.” Not caring anymore about appearances, she took her napkin, dipped the corner in her water glass and dabbed it on her neck t
o alleviate the heat overtaking her.

  “It’s about time I lived my own life. You’ve lived it enough for both of us. I am finally in love and when the right moment struck, it struck.” Vincent shot his words at his sister.

  “Except for this.” Randolph mumbled under his breath and pressed the back of his hand to her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

  “Willow understands that,” Nan said.

  At the sound of her name, Willow turned to her. “What?”

  “You understand that sometimes things happen and you make quick decisions because that’s what the universe tells you is right.” Nan touched her chin.

  Not appreciating the reference to her and Randolph, she pressed her lips together.

  “My Chiquita also understands that no matter what, certain souls were meant to be together even if things change, because change is inevitable, not changing is not living.” Nan took the wet napkin, pressed it on her wrist and motioned for Randolph. “Your instinct was right, she’s clammy. Hold the napkin here, it will cool her down faster.”

  Randolph took over.

  “You understand, right, Chiquita? You’re not alone.” Nan smiled, the one that told her everything would be all right even if she didn’t believe her.

  The soothing coolness pulsed through her with her heartbeat. Not alone. No, even with her mother’s passing she was never alone. Nan had already passed the torch to Randolph. She looked from Nan to Vincent.

  “I wanted to ask your permission.” Vincent leaned over. “But I couldn’t stop myself from asking when I did.”

  She needed to pass the torch as well and took a breath. “I make medicinal teas for a living. I don’t need to tell you what will happen if you hurt my Nan.”

  A smile crossed Vincent’s face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “Chiquita, I love him, I really do.” Nan took her hand and Vincent’s hand and held both together.

  “I will do everything in my power to keep your Nan in the Van Ayers lifestyle.” Vincent kissed Nan on the cheek.

  “Just keep her happy.” Too much of her husband’s life had been spent trying to keep in the lifestyle. Though grateful because it brought them together, part of her wondered what would have happened if Randolph didn’t continue to search. An overwhelming exhaustion replaced the heat and she rested her head on Randolph’s shoulder.