Love/Forty

by Bette McNicholas

  “What are we going to do?”

  Dante shook his head. Mercedes looked like a frightened animal about to be captured. “The copter will leave now that we’ve come inside, and you and I will have dinner and I’ll call Art and see if he and Charlotte can get us a flight plan out later tonight.

  “After we eat, pack your things, and we’ll head out to the airport before the front gate is swarming with photographers. My parents’ plane is waiting to take me back to Florida and if we can arrange it, they’ll take you to New York tonight. If we can’t leave until morning, we can spend the night on the plane.”

  The mood of the evening changed drastically, but not the love between them. After the helicopter disappeared off the estate, Dante brought in her sweater, the food, and champagne from the patio. They ate dinner quickly, rinsed the dishes, and left them in the sink, then hurried upstairs to pack.

  Dante successfully reached the pilot and they hurried off to the airport in a cab before paparazzi arrived to hang outside and wait for them. By morning they’d already be on their way to New York if they didn’t leave sooner.

  The plan seemed elaborate to Mercedes, but everything ran like clockwork, and they were buckled in their seats and in the air long before Charlotte and Art even discovered what had happened to cause them to cut their visit short.

  Dante offered to escort Mercedes home once they landed, but she declined.

  “What if they somehow followed us to the airport, found out our flight plan, and called reporters in New York to wait for us. It will be best to say goodbye on the plane. Even if someone recognizes me, I have ticket stubs that say I was in Vegas.”

  “Can I call you when I get to Florida?”

  “Yes, but try to avoid Max and my parents if possible.”

  “I can change my plans, head to Germany early.”

  “I’ll be a wreck waiting to see if anybody can guess who you were about to make love to, and more concerned if they captured a photo of me—without my sweater on, I’d look like I didn’t have on a top.”

  “Mercedes, I’m positive they didn’t get a glimpse of you. If they’re suspicious and call your condo, they’ll be surprised to hear you answer. And, if they show up outside your building, and discover you’re home, they will believe I was with someone else, and they shouldn’t haunt you after that.”

  Mercedes snuggled next to him and they closed their eyes and tried to sleep while their minds were occupied replaying the scene in Colorado. What little shuteye they had helped some, but Mercedes felt like she imagined someone who had a permanent hangover felt. Having a relationship with Dante had become more complicated and she’d suffer the strain of exactly what she feared a relationship with him would do to her quiet life. She sighed in relief that she hadn’t told him she’d be willing to attend a tournament and perhaps be seen with him in public. She had to re-think her spur-of-the moment decisions.

  “What’s wrong? Have you had a change of heart?”

  She shook her head and closed her eyes, fighting off tears.

  “I’ll make sure to find a place where we can have complete privacy. Maybe my parents place in New York.” He turned toward her and said, “What’s bothering you? You don’t look happy.”

  She hadn’t had a change of heart. She wanted him to be the one to teach her how to love. Since they met, she had passionate dreams about their making love. But, she didn’t consider herself honorable or affectionate enough to be intimate with him when she wasn’t sure she could handle the public life he led. The last thing she wanted to do was to break his heart. She already felt a crack in hers.

  “Mercedes, tell me what’s wrong.”

  “The anticipation, Dante. Having to change our plans and interrupt our private tryst, like we were guilty of having an illicit affair. I never contemplated we’d have to preplan spending the night together. I expected that people in love had sex at a spontaneous moment of uncontrolled passion, especially for the first time, and not have to worry about being disturbed, by paparazzi no less.”

  Dante moved a strand of her hair and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry. I wanted our time away and especially this evening to be one we would cherish forever. And if you needed a lot of foreplay, I’d be your man. I promise to give you that spontaneous moment.”

  She attempted to smile, checking to make sure Charlotte didn’t hear their conversation, but she was in the cockpit with her husband. “I don’t need to be anymore aroused than I am now, Dante. I already have too many hormones driving me insane. No one has ever made me feel this wonderful. But the unexpected and immediate interruption made me feel like we were two young teenagers getting caught by the police in the backseat of a car.”

  Dante put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. “Try not to think about tonight, Mercedes. Don’t give up on us. Let’s relax and enjoy our time together, because I don’t know when I’ll be free to see you again.”

  “What if I came to Florida?”

  “That would be wonderful, but a little difficult with your brother and parents vying for your time. Maybe I can convince you to come on tour with your brother and me. Perhaps a couple of tournaments on my way to Wimbledon.”

  “I’ll think about it, tomorrow.”

  “Oh, all right, Scarlett! Think about this—get an assignment to cover the Grand Slams, then you’ll have an excuse for being there, will have your own pass and special seat reserved, and won’t miss a match.”

  “Well, what if we aren’t great together? You may not want me to be with you.”

  Dante laughed quietly and spoke close to her ear, “I’ll show you how I can make you melt,” he said, kissing the back of her neck. “What if I kiss your neck and brand you mine?”

  “I hope you have a safe trip to Florida, Dracula!”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Mercedes experienced a taste of the world of wealth, and learned how easily Dante could make things happen. Arriving at a small private airport, she hopped into the limo he ordered for her and headed into the city while he waited for a flight plan for his short visit to Florida before he flew to Europe for a string of tournaments leading up to Wimbledon, but without her.

  In the back of her mind she had toyed with the idea of accompanying her brother to Europe to surprise Dante. But, after the debacle in Colorado, she was no longer convinced that was a good idea. If there were a page-six article or a front-page photo of the pool scene on any tabloid, she would nix the idea immediately.

  When the car pulled up to her apartment, she hurried inside. She didn’t want to be seen by anyone and couldn’t wait to settle into her home. She thumbed through her mail, dumped most of it in the trash, unpacked her small suitcase, changed clothes, and crawled into bed. She closed her eyes, thought of Dante, and drifted off to sleep.

  That terrible sound of the phone ringing woke her late in the afternoon. She reached over and checked to see that Faith was on the line.

  “Hi, Faith.”

  “When did you get home? I’ve been calling your cell but you never answered. What happened?”

  “Sorry, I left the phone in my purse in the living room. What do you mean, what happened?”

  “Oh, dear! You don’t know?”

  “Don’t know what?”

  “Are you in bed?”

  “Yeah, you woke me from a sound sleep.”

  “What happened in Colorado?”

  “How do you know something happened,” she asked sitting up in bed to look at the clock?

  “How about I bring dinner over and we’ll talk. I can close up here in about half an hour. All right?”

  “I thought we had plans.”

  “There’s been a change. Okay if I come over.”

  “Yes. I have a lot to tell you.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Faith responded, as she stared at Dante Edwards’ photo on the front page of the Post, in the act of undressing a woman for an apparent skinny dip in someone’s pool—and then some…

  ****

 
; By the time Mercedes dragged her body out of bed, showered and dressed, she began to realize that whatever happened had to involve her and her clandestine meeting with Dante. The turmoil inside her prevented her from running out to buy a paper or two.

  She believed whatever it was, Faith knew because she was the only person she had told she’d be in Colorado. But that knowledge didn’t stop the adrenaline that raced through her veins. Her worst nightmare may be spreading over both continents and here she was, curious about what Faith was bringing for dinner. She was starved.

  Even if the staff at the mansion and the man from the car rental kept her identity secret, being seen in public now with Dante would make everyone suspicious. When was she going to learn to listen to her own instincts? Why did she fall into the trap? And what can she do now that she’d fallen hopelessly in love? Join the ranks of all the other stupid people in the world, she guessed.

  When the intercom buzzed, she raced to let Faith inside. “Panini and wine and brownies,” she said. “I was anxious to get here and didn’t want to wait too long for dinner.”

  After placing the food in the kitchen, Faith hugged Mercedes. “Have you heard from Dante?”

  “Hmm, no. He said he’d call when he got home, but he may have had some other things to do first.”

  Faith let out a deep sigh. She reached in her tote bag and pulled out the tabloid she had folded in half.

  Mercedes looked at her friend with a frightened look before unfolding the paper. One peek at the photo and she gasped and fell back on the sofa.

  She shook her head. “Be honest, Faith, would you have recognized me if you didn’t know I was in Colorado with him?”

  Faith sat next to her and said, “No. I even got a magnifying glass and tried, but you can barely see the top of your head and the side of your body, your upper arm to be exact and your shoulder. I even had someone on my staff call the paper and ask if they had identified the girl and the answer was no. That’s the good news.”

  Mercedes lowered her head and expelled all her breath. “What’s the bad news?”

  “They’re trying to see if one of the staff members or anyone else can give them a name. Besides all that, Mercedes, even though you can’t be ID’d, the dress strewn on the pool deck makes it impossible not to realize the woman is nude.”

  “That’s not a dress, Faith. That’s my sweater—my pink tunic. I had a camisole on; you can’t tell because his arms are wrapped around me. How long do you think I’ll have to remain a hermit—until they drop this story?” She said, answering her own question.

  Faith leaned over and hugged Mercedes. “I don’t know, but you will drive yourself crazy wondering.”

  She got up, went in the kitchen, and poured Mercedes a glass of wine. “Here, let’s see how long it takes to finish this bottle! Have you eaten anything all day?”

  Faith put the sandwiches on plates, and worried that her friend would be sick.

  “What am I going to do, Faith? I think maybe I should alert my family ahead of time.”

  “Why not wait until you hear from Dante before going into confession mode. It’s possible he may not know about the buzz going around the world. He may have some suggestions for you; except, I don’t see how these reporters are going to let this drop, especially on the heels of Wimbledon. He’s the hottest topic among sport celebrities.”

  “Thanks, Faith. That makes me feel better.”

  “I’m sorry. But you and I have always been honest and I can’t sit here and tell you not to worry. Guess you don’t want to talk about the trip,” she said, dodging an incoming pillow from Mercedes.

  The two of them sat there, ate, and watched TV, while deep inside, Mercedes prayed.

  “I have always had a problem trying to minimize my flaws—fear and pride. How could I have let this happen?”

  “You’re human, Mercedes. I know you will feel you haven’t lived up to your own expectations, but those of us who love you aren’t going to criticize you. You created this problem by being perfect in all you do, but that’s not always possible or realistic. This is a result of your attempting to be the exemplary child when you were in the foster homes. Do you think your biological parents or your adopted parents would love you less?”

  Mercedes sighed. “I know you’re right, but this can be hard to live with if my name is connected to this story.”

  “Why? Your friends will all be happy for you and jealous, too! We’ve been waiting for you to find someone and fall in love.”

  “Incoming,” Faith yelled and they sat back on the sofa and laughed, throwing pillows at each other at the same time, like they did in college.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The next day, Mercedes didn’t hear a word from Dante and began to be concerned. Max called and asked her if she had seen the tabloids and she played innocent and lied, “No, why?”

  Max read the articles to her, and she gave him a nonchalant answer, “What did you expect? Did you think he was celibate or began practicing abstinence since he met me?”

  “I was concerned you might have been hurt.”

  “That’s kind, thank you. Have you heard from him? Is he still in Colorado?”

  “Not sure. He left a message on my answering machine and said he’d be out of town for a couple of days and I haven’t heard from him since.”

  “Well, I’ve good news. I decided to take a short trip to Florida. Most of my work is finished and I have a little free time. Can you make reservations for my friend, Faith, and me? A little sunshine and shopping, but make sure to check with the folks before you put together an itinerary. I don’t want to interrupt any plans they might have. We can leave here late Friday afternoon or early evening and return Wednesday night because Faith has deadlines to meet. How does that sound?”

  “Fantastic. Mom and Dad will be thrilled. Okay if I tell Dante you’re coming?”

  “Certainly. Maybe if Dante’s free Saturday, we can go out someplace special for dinner and out on the town.” She hoped she sounded casual and calm when she spoke, but her heartbeat increased with excitement to see Dante again.

  “Sounds great. I’ll call you as soon as I get things set up—seafood or Italian Saturday night?”

  She laughed. “Already, you’re catering to your new client, I see. Okay, an Italian—Seafood restaurant.”

  “Now look who’s catering,” he teased.

  ****

  The next morning, Mercedes kept busy preparing for her trip, selecting outfits and trying hard to fit everything in one carry-on plus her tote bag with the extra compartment to hold her laptop.

  When her intercom buzzed, she hurried down to the first floor to sign for an overnight special delivery. The square box had no return address, and she knew immediately the package had to be from Dante.

  She hurried back to her condo and unwrapped the box, lifted the lid and found a folded note with his initials printed on the front. In bold handwriting inside, he had written, I can’t seem to forget you, and inside the box sat a large bottle of Prince Matchabelli’s Wind Song. The gift made her smile and the words caused her heartbeat to increase to rapid, and her eyes fill with tears.

  She took a few minutes for her emotions to settle and then sat at her desk and dialed Dante’s cell phone.

  “The gift arrived?” he asked when he answered.

  She envisioned him sitting there waiting for her to call to tell him the perfume had arrived.

  “Yes. Thank you. The note would have been more than sufficient, however. I’ve been worried since I hadn’t heard from you.”

  “I assumed you saw the tabloids and I didn’t have the heart to call because I feared how you’d react to that horrible incident. I sent the perfume instead and hoped you’d call me. I discovered that not knowing the consequences of your reaction and the possibility that I may never see you again were unbearable and I don’t know what I’ll do if that’s why you’re calling.”

  “What would you have done in Arizona, Dante, if I hadn’t been at t
he tennis tournament to meet Max, and instead had simply left the stadium?”

  “Is this one of the questions you chose to ask me during our interview?”

  She laughed. “No. I just thought to ask this after you said you didn’t know what you’d do if I said I didn’t want to see you again.”

  He sighed. “Well, truth is, I thought about that once or twice and I believe I would have tried desperately to find you—someone at that tournament might have been able to identify you.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not sure. I can’t explain how I felt that day. But the minute I saw you, something came over me—I felt the blood run through my veins and I wasn’t certain what had happened at that moment, but it didn’t take long after that for me to realize that I fell in love with you, and I think something came over you, too.”

  Mercedes wasn’t quite sure how to respond. She waited a few seconds before changing the subject. “The perfume smells nice.”

  “Can you identify any aromas?”

  She inhaled the scent of the opened bottle, closed her eyes, and exhaled. “Coriander and orange zest, maybe?”

  “That’s wonderful. Maybe one day you’d consider going into business with me?”

  Again she didn’t answer, but let the words that indicated a future together wash over her. “Where are you?”

  “At home in Florida,” he answered, his voice making her fully aware that he didn’t miss the fact that she avoided answering him.

  “I talked to Max and he said he hadn’t heard from you, either.”

  “I didn’t know how to explain the tabloid debacle, nor did I want to discover how he thought you’d react since he had no idea you were the woman in the picture.”

  “I’m coming to Florida on Friday with my friend, Faith.”