Carmen smiled as she looked in the mirror, seeing a totally different person staring back at her. She shook her head in disbelief and walked out to where her sister sat, waiting.
A broad grin split Connie’s face as Carmen entered and positioned herself in front of the tri-view mirrors.
Carmen shifted back and forth, grabbed the skirts of the dress in one hand, and pulled them out, did a quick little curtsy. “I look like a princess,” Carmen said in awe and whirled around again to see her sister.
She looked like a queen, Connie thought. The dress was simplicity itself. It was strapless and showed off the elegant lines of Carmen’s collarbones. The bodice had a sweetheart neckline that hugged her bosom. From there the dress flowed down in waves of ivory satin. In the back the satin created a waterfall of ivory that continued to trail behind the dress in a short train. “It’s wonderful. You’re … beautiful,” she said with a sigh.
Carmen smiled and motioned to the salesgirl. “This is the one.” She faced her sister. “And now, as the matron of honor, it’s time to pick your gown,” she said and the torture started all over again as the girl began displaying a rainbow of dresses.
#
Paul was busy reviewing papers when his office phone rang. Without looking at the caller ID, he picked up his office phone and answered. “Special Agent Stone.”
“Hello brother-of-mine,” Simon responded heartily.
Paul grimaced, wondering what his brother could possibly want. Simon had called Paul several times at home, leaving messages on the answering machine. He had called again yesterday at the office and had gotten Paul’s voice mail. Again he had left several messages. “Hello, Simon. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I thought we might get together for lunch today. Are you free?”
He was, but Paul had been hoping to surprise Carmen and take her to lunch. Still, his brother was making the overture, one Paul had wanted for so long. In the past, Simon’s calls had been to sell his brother stock or try and entice him back to the family business -- a brokerage firm in which Paul had no interest. Maybe this time it was for the reasons Paul had always wanted. To be a brother. To be friends. “How about the Chart House in Coconut Grove. I feel like having some fish.”
There was a short bark of laughter across the line. “Well, you know I’m a steak man myself, but a little fish every now and then is probably good for my health. At one?”
“I’ll be there,” Paul confirmed and hung up, actually looking forward to their lunch together for a change.
#
Paul took the first bite of his fish and considered that so far lunch hadn’t been all that bad. His brother had started by telling him how well the brokerage firm was doing. Not once during that spiel had he even mentioned how they could use Paul at the firm. Nor had he tried to pitch him one stock to purchase. It had actually been just man-to-man talk, even brother-to-brother kind of talk, he thought and smiled after he had swallowed.
“I’m glad to hear everything’s going so well,” he said and continued eating.
Simon placed down his fork. “Well, yes. Things are going fairly well. If it wasn’t for this business with Cindy, things would be exceptional.”
Paul had always liked his sister-in-law, although their time together had been infrequent. “How are she and the kids?”
Simon shrugged, then glared. “She’s fine. The kids are fine, although I barely get a chance to see them.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you,” Paul said in commiseration, sensing that his brother was still hurt by the breakup of his marriage.
“It was working fine for me. Cindy was the one with all the demands I couldn’t meet.” His brother looked up at him and pointed his finger to emphasize his take on things. “You make sure you know what your wife expects. Especially this one.”
Paul hesitated at Simon’s words, and then asked, “What do you mean by that?”
Simon huffed out a harsh laugh. “Come on, Paul. A girl as hot as your fiancée … it’s obvious this one’s leading you around by the --”
“Enough,” Paul warned.
His brother opened his mouth to continue, then apparently realized Paul would not listen to him malign Carmen any further. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. You need to make sure that you protect yourself.”
Paul considered his brother and sensed his pain which tempered his anger at Simon’s comments regarding Carmen. “I’m sorry you couldn’t avoid being hurt.”
Simon harrumphed and surprised Paul with his next words. “Hurt. Yes, she hurt me all right. Took me to the cleaners.”
Paul thought there had to be more to it than just the money. If Carmen left, he would be devastated. “I know Cindy meant a lot to you and --”
Simon threw his hands up into the air, silencing him. “Cindy was perfect. Beautiful. Smart, but malleable. Unfortunately, her family name was all she had to offer. They had been in a bad financial position for some time. She needed my money, but didn’t understand my hours or needs. But when it came time for the divorce, let me tell you,” he said, his voice escalating in volume. “She understood the benefit of all those hours and the money we had. In the long run, that’s what it was all about. Money.” He pressed his point home angrily, jabbing his finger into the tabletop.
Paul reached out and grabbed his brother’s hand. “Simon, I’m sorry. But you know your marriage was about more than money.”
“It wasn’t,” he lashed out, throwing off Paul’s hand. “All along it was about our wealth. About our family name. All the nice things she had grown used to and wanted to keep.”
Paul had never thought that of his sister-in-law. Her love for his brother had always been clear to him. “That’s not true. I could always see that she loved you.”
“She loved all I could give her, Paul. Wake up,” Simon replied harshly. “Lord help the fools who think it’s about love and all that other crap.”
Paul sat back in his chair and wished he could ease his brother’s hurt. “In time, Simon --”
“In time, you’ll see. You think Carmen’s everything you’ve ever wanted. That she adores you?”
Simon’s voice was so loud now that some of the patrons were turning to stare at them. Paul motioned for his brother to lower the volume and he leaned closer and softly said, “She loves me.”
Simon leaned closer as well and in a tight voice replied, “She loves your money. She’s seen the kind of life you can give her. One she wouldn’t have found with one of her little Cuban boyfriends.”
Paul couldn’t have been more hurt if his brother had struck him. “Carmen loves me, Simon. Not my money.”
His brother shook his head and sadly said, “If you’re so sure, then a little prenuptial agreement wouldn’t be a problem. It would make things clear and make sure all that you have is safe from her greedy little hands.”
Paul leaned back in his chair and rubbed a finger across his lips, remembering her kisses. The way she held him to her and made love with him. His brother was wrong, and yet …. “I’ll think about it,” he replied, the seeds of doubt having been successfully planted.
Simon leaned closer and passed a card across the table. “Think about it hard and when you’re finished thinking, call my lawyer. He’ll make sure you’re protected.”
The card sat on the table between them. Paul went to pick it up, but pulled his hand back at the last minute, doubts assailing him. In his gut, he knew what Simon suggested was unnecessary. Carmen loved him and not anything else. But if that was true, why not get it in writing? He reached out, took the card, and slipped it into his jacket pocket.
“Thanks,” he said.
Simon smiled and tipped his head. “You won’t be sorry, Paul.”
#
Paul closed the file he was working on, leaned back in his chair, and thought again about what his brother had said. Thought for the hundredth time in the last two weeks about their lunchtime conversation and the prenuptial agreement. He opened hi
s top desk drawer and withdrew the card that had gotten dog-eared from so much handling.
He stared hard at the business card. The lawyer’s name was embossed in glossy black ink along with his specialty. Family and Divorce law. Although for Paul, family and divorces didn’t necessarily go hand-in-hand. Not to mention that he thought there was something odd about having someone draft a prenuptial agreement who had a vested interest in a divorce in the future. It seemed to him only one person profited in that case -- the lawyer.
He had mulled over the possibility of asking Carmen for the prenup for two weeks. If Carmen loved him, really loved him, she would sign the agreement. After all, she loved him and not anything else. She would be willing to give up all that had not been hers at the time of their marriage. It seemed more than reasonable.
On the other hand, if he trusted her, believed in what they shared, there would be no need for an agreement because there would be no divorce. But with so many marriages in America ending in divorce, the odds said they might not survive. Add to that the stress of his job and it was even harder. Law enforcement officers had high divorce rates. Despite that ….
Carmen had said you had to have faith and that if you did, it would eventually work out. Paul wanted to believe. He wanted to think they would beat the odds and spend a long and happy life together.
He crumbled the card and was about to toss it away when some of the doubts that remained buried deep in his thoughts made him smooth the card back out and place it in his top desk drawer with a curse.
Paul rose and walked out into his living room. Carmen was there, wireless headphones on and likely connected to the television which was tuned to some kind of music video station. She was totally oblivious to his presence, gyrating and prancing to the music only she heard.
She was dressed in black Spandex® bike shorts and a black workout bra. It was clear she had just been exercising for her body glistened with sweat. Despite his assurances that she was perfect, she had been determined to lose some weight for the wedding and he had to admit as he watched her dance around that she looked even better.
Carmen had complained that she hadn’t lost any weight, but he could see a difference. It was likely due to her increased exercise. She had toned, adding more light muscle. Her weight had stayed the same, but her body was definitely different. And definitely improved he thought again as he watched her move to the music.
His eyes were drawn to the television as a familiar face came on, but he couldn’t remember the name of the singer although she was an icon in Miami. In the next shot, the video cut to a couple in poses that seemed to him to have little to do with dancing. And yet Carmen continued to move around, this time singing softly, in her slightly off-key voice.
Paul walked over, pulled the wire for the headphone transmitter and the room was suddenly filled with the sounds of a pounding Latin beat mixed into a dance tune. Carmen stopped in surprise and whipped off the head phones. “I didn’t disturb you, did I?”
He smiled, came close, and pointed to the large television monitor. He motioned to the screen where the couples were busy doing some dirty dancing. “I know I’m the kind of guy who gets his foot stuck in the door and can’t dance, but somehow ….” He shrugged, moved close to her, and drew her into his arms.
“I’d like to give this a shot,” he replied and moved his hips against hers.
Carmen sucked in a breath as his hands grabbed her buttocks and brought her flush against his arousal. Her heart pounded in her chest, both from the exertion of her workout and from the sudden insistent desire throbbing through her body along with the beat of the music.
She looked up. Passion and playfulness mixed in his gaze and she smiled, mimicked his actions. Grabbing his butt, she moved her hips against his in time to the music, and leaned close to rub her barely clothed upper body against his. “You have too much clothing on,” she said as she pulled his shirt up and over his head.
Placing her hands on his shoulders, she was surprised by the heat of his skin. She moved her hands down the long muscled line of his back, cupped his hard buttocks again, and urged him on. “Close your eyes, Paul. Listen to the beat and give yourself over to my hands.”
Paul grinned from ear to ear, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Darlin’, I live for that.”
Carmen pinched his butt, chiding him. “Come on, mi amor. Give it a try.”
He did as she said and she started to count. “Feel the beat. One. Two. Three. Four,” she said and kept on repeating the beat. She moved her hands to his hips, placing gentle pressure there to move his hips from side to side in time with the music. “It’s a dance beat. Simple. One. Two. Three. Four.” Carmen continued and when he was moving his hips in synch with the music, she moved her hands up to his shoulders and shifted away.
“Okay, now open your eyes and watch my feet. Nice and simple to start.” She showed him just a simple back and forth, right foot, left foot combination.
Paul glanced down intently at her feet and tried to move his in the simple one, two, three, four, shuffle and lost the beat in his hips, stepping on her foot in the process. “Sorry,” he replied and jumped away from her. He sighed in defeat. “I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can.” With the confidence she usually exhibited, she motioned for him to try again, but the video came to an end and another group came on.
Paul smiled and took a deep breath of relief as he thought he was spared and raised his shoulders in a shrug. “Sorry,” he replied, although he was anything but relieved about his reprieve.
Carmen waggled her finger in his face. “No way. You are not getting away that easy.” Picking up the remote, she shut off the television, turned, and reached onto the coffee table for her IPod. She nearly raced to the entertainment center and connected it to his stereo system. “Give me a second.”
Paul would have given her all day, recognizing she was on a mission. He knew by now that meant she wasn’t going to give up. He just hoped she had some toes left by the time her mission was complete.
She turned on the stereo and a second later, the music from her IPod pulsed through the speakers. She hurried back to his side and held up her hands in a classic dance pose, and he grabbed the one hand, slipped his free hand on her waist. Her skin was bare, damp. He rubbed his thumb up and down in a lazy motion and she gave his hand a quick jerk.
“Stop,” she commanded and placed her free hand on his bare shoulder. “Ready?”
He was ready, but not for dancing. Mission that it was, however, he intended to do his best. Nodding, Paul glanced down at her feet as she began the count and shuffle again. For a short time, they moved together stiffly to the music, and then as he expected, he stepped on her toe, eliciting a Cuban curse.
“Sorry. Ready to quit?” he offered, praying to be relieved from this torture.
She shook her head vehemently. “No way. Now look up at me.” Carmen grabbed his hands and moved them so they bracketed her hips. “Concentrate on the beat and the movements. Have faith that we can do this.”
Paul believed that she believed they could, but he had no doubt about his lack of dancing skills. Still, he held her hips, and she surprised him by mirroring the position of his hands. Her thumbs rested against his midsection, her other fingers splayed across his buttocks.
“On four,” she instructed and they began once more.
This time they were able to keep the beat longer and had only one little fumble. Carmen expertly eased them back into the beat. “That’s it,” she urged, worrying her lower lip between her teeth as she concentrated on their dancing.
He smiled at her intensity and teased, “Relax.”
Carmen’s head shot up then and she stepped on his foot. To his amazement, he was the one who now guided her back into the rhythm. “Very good,” she said with a smile and moved her hands to his shoulders.
Beneath his fingers on her waist, she relaxed, her hips growing more fluid, easily shifting with the music.
“Now, a li
ttle back and forth.” She guided him into the step, the way she often led the way during their lovemaking. He grinned, thinking how very similar this was, with their bodies together, moving in unison.
Carmen sensed a change in him and looked up to find him grinning. “What’s up?”
He dragged her close, their hips now flush as they executed the simple back and forth, a little side to side in time to the driving beat. “I think I may have finally gotten the hang of this,” he replied and surprised her by growing bolder, leading her around a little, all the time in sync to the music.
She smiled at him and he moved against her sensuously, totally in time to the music, and totally too much. His hands moved to her waist, shifted to cradle the small of her back and she gave herself up to his hands and to his salsa.
#
She slept in his arms, cradled against him peacefully. Their lovemaking had been glorious as always. She had given herself, taken him into her, and made him whole again. Driven away any doubts he had about whether she loved him or his money.
Paul knew she was all that he needed, but was he everything she needed? he wondered instead, unsure of how such a vibrant lovely woman could want someone like him.
No one had ever wanted him.
What did he have to offer her besides great sex and his money. And when the sex was gone? When this fascination they had with each other languished. Then what? he wondered.
They had been together exclusively for months. Nearly seven months since she had opened the door on Christmas Eve and let him into her life. And in all that time, they had been happy. Seven months. But could seven months become seven years or even seventy years? Was it reasonable to think it could last that long?
He tightened his hold on her and she murmured a sleepy protest. Paul relented and loosened his grasp, knowing suddenly that one day, he would have to let her go as well. It was too much to believe that it could last forever.
He knew then that even if she took his heart with her when she left, he would have to have something to keep when that happened. Even if it was only money.
Faith in You Page 11
