On The Dotted Line (17 page)

“She
was so nasty.” She looked down at her lap as she spoke.

“Then
it is your job to take the high road and then we gossip and make fun of them on
the ride home.”

“It
all seems so silly.”

“It
wasn’t to me.” He lowered his voice.

Once
more they stared at each other.

“Well,
it doesn’t matter cause you won.” He leaned over the desk. “I would like the
calendar back. Mrs. Avery will resume her duties as social planner. All I ask
is that you attend the functions with me.”

Her
complexion paled yet her cheeks turned red. “Won’t that be against my contract?”

He
stifled a sad laugh. “I will have my attorneys make a formal amendment to it if
you’d like.”

“Well,
it is a sacred contract.” She shrugged. Again, she reached into her bag sliding
out the calendar and putting it on his desk. “Here you go.”

He
took the book and returned it to his desk drawer, wishing she would have fought
for it. “I’m sorry it was all silly for you. I know it probably doesn’t matter,
but after the last few days we had together, I was really looking forward to
showing off my new wife.” Stupid images of having a partner at one of these
meetings, someone to hold his hand while he talked business and someone to take
a drive with afterward all but dissipated. Maybe he put too much on her, should
have offered help, but since she found the whole thing foolish it was a moot
point. He learned time and gain he couldn’t change someone’s inner makeup,
though he thought she was the type to be open minded even about things she didn’t
understand.

“Then
what were you going to tell them next year?”

“What?”

“Were
you going to show off your brand new divorce papers?” She looked down.

Her
words might as well have slapped him across the face. Was the disaster about
something else entirely? During the last days and nights they had become closer
and now she tried to put distance between them. “Maybe we shouldn’t think about
that part.” A strange emptiness took residence right in his throat. They had
months to go before they needed to address their year anniversary.

“How
can we not? We started a relationship knowing the end. Everything is there in
black and white.” She stood and bolted for the exit. “There’s just something
wrong with that.”

He
shot up and managed to beat her to the door. “What do you want Willow?” If she
wouldn’t offer the information, he would point blank ask.

She
wouldn’t even look him in the eye.

“Willow,
tell me what you want. Everything is negotiable.” He tried to push her.

She
lifted her face, but stared off in the distance as if she were speaking to
someone else. “I want to do the job I promised to do.”

“Anything
else?” he pressed.

“No.”
Her word fell like a boulder between them.

“Then
I suppose you can be off the clock until tonight.” He opened the door and
returned to his desk.

“Willow,
love, don’t move.” With a huge smile, Lillian stood back and clasped her hands,
admiring her handiwork. “Fix the one curl.”

One
of the three hairdressers in Lillian Van Ayers’ private dressing room suite
rushed forward and micro adjusted something on her hair.

Willow
learned during hour one of Lillian’s preparations to remain absolutely still
while other people dressed her, did her hair, and put makeup on her. She wasn’t
even allowed to buckle her own shoe.

“Oh.”
Lillian pressed her hand to her chest. “Oh, Willow.”

One
of the makeup artists ran over and dabbed Lillian’s eye with a cotton swab.

“You
look…” Lillian fanned her face. “You look...” She shook her head, backed up and
motioned toward the mirror. “You look like a Van Ayers.”

The
crew of people surrounding them clapped.

Willow
gasped as she took in her reflection. The woman staring back at her was still
her, but changed. While it felt as if the artists painted her face like a
canvas, she actually looked quite natural, except perfect. They left her hair
down, long and flowing over her back as she preferred, but the strands seemed
to gleam, smooth and soft with the curl she always wanted.

Of
course there was the dress. They called the color champagne, but it was more a
liquid shimmering cream. Smooth and silky, the simple yet elegant floor-length
strapless gown hugged every inch of her, made to appear as if it were part of
her. She turned to Lillian and then glanced at the team of people who created
her. She looked like a Van Ayers.

At
the end of the day she needed to remember it was all on the surface. She was
created to look like a Van Ayers.

Though
part of her wanted to shake her head and wipe the makeup off her face, the
other part knew that no matter what, for Randolph, for Lillian and for herself,
she would play nice at their party. Next year, when she was nothing but a
memory to these people, she didn’t want the memory to be of awkward scenes with
their coworkers and friends. She wanted them to smile and at least know she gave
it everything she had.

“She
was already gorgeous.” Lillian came over and gave her a silent clap. “But
tonight is special and she is most definitely the belle of the ball.”

“My
Chiquita, you look
muy bonita
!” Nan joined them from the other room with
her own team trailing after her.

“You
do too.” Willow had no choice but to smile at Nan. In a million years she never
dreamed she would see the woman in anything but one of her muumuus, but Lillian
worked her magic and found a deep purple fitted dress that showed off Nan’s
attributes.

“That
is exactly what I pictured.” Lillian was a vision as well in a pink strapless
floor length dress. “This is perfect.”

“Maybe
we should wear these outfits to Sedona.” Nan posed for her. “Do you think they
would kick us out?”

“They
don’t allow evening dresses in Sedona?” Lillian looked them all over once more.
“What do you do there?”

“We
celebrate the winter solstice.” Nan nodded. “It is the return of the light
after the dark winter days.”

Yes,
Willow allowed Lillian to primp and prod her, she kept quiet since the disagreement
about Randolph’s dinner over three weeks ago, and as long as the universe
remained on her side she wouldn’t cause any issues tonight. For all those good
deeds, she would be rewarded with a trip to Sedona, she hoped. Randolph still
needed to agree, and she hoped he would, they needed the trip.

She
glanced down at the intricate mosaic floor. Randolph asking what she wanted in
his office was one of the last things he said to her aside from a grunt here or
there or a quick question. Even Thanksgiving came and went without anything to
truly be thankful for. Yes, Lillian put out a spread fit for any cookbook
cover, but it lacked any meaning. Maybe it was better. They needed to stay
separate, but then she was the one hoping he took her to one of her sacred
places.

A
knock interrupted her thoughts.

“Well,
my guess is people are starting to arrive.” Lillian smoothed down her dress. “That
must be the men.”

Willow
tensed. The last she’d seen Randolph he was slumped over his home desk working.

One
of the staff opened the door and her breath caught.

There
was something about a man in a tuxedo. Of course there was something else
entirely about Randolph in a tuxedo.

Rather
than the typical outfit with a bow tie and cummerbund seen at many high school
proms, Randolph wore a three-piece ensemble, black pants, black jacket a cream
brocade vest and a regular tie that matched her dress.

He
left his curls untamed and they bounced as he walked into the room adding to
his sexy swagger and allure. His curls were the tiny drop of mischief in the
overall power he possessed. He stopped, almost causing his father to bump into
him.

Randolph’s
gaze traveled over her. “Willow.”

A
shiver ran through her. His blank stare gave nothing away, no approval, no
repulsion. A poker face, the same one he must use in a negotiation for a
percentage or two of profit. “Randolph.”

“Should
we get going to your party?” His tone came out tight and businesslike. At last
he crossed the room.

“It’s
your party too.” Her throat dried out.

“Well,
then I say we should join our guests at our party.” Without a word about her dress
or anything else, he held his arm out to her.

Maybe
he thought their relationship should remain more business-like as well. More
than once she heard Randolph’s father say the evening was nothing more than one
big meeting in uncomfortable clothes. She put a smile on her face and in
keeping with her vow for the evening, laced her arm in his.

“We
should make an appearance.” The senior Van Ayers nodded at her. Most of the time,
he didn’t really deal with her at all. Of course he knew she was only a
temporary addition. “We put the dog in the locked laundry room so he wouldn’t
get spooked with the guests.”

While
Mr. Van Ayers might not care for her, Willow noticed he did have a fondness for
Jeb.

“This
is perfect, just perfect.” Lillian went to her husband and motioned for Nan to
join them.

“You
all look lovely.” Mr. Van Ayers led Nan and Lillian away.

“Let’s
do this.” Randolph guided her out of the room.

Light
classical music wafted through the mansion, mixing with Randolph’s cologne and
causing her head to spin. She barely realized they made it to the staircase
until he stopped.

“Oh!”
For the girl who never even had as much as a birthday party, the scene below
was overwhelming. She tried not to focus on the excess, instead focused on the
moment and her job.

The
illuminated chandeliers gave the whole downstairs sparkle. Uniformed staff
members walked around carrying silver trays of appetizers and champagne. The
guests who already arrived appeared as if they were ready to walk a red carpet.
Lillian had turned the house into a veritable winter wonderland, a Charles
Dickens picture perfect postcard.

Randolph
pulled her closer.

She
held her breath waiting for him to say something.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”
She exhaled, blowing away her expectations.

They
made their way down the stairs while the whole party seemed to stop and watch
them. Throughout her life whenever she had entered situations where she felt on
display, Nan always told her to move outside herself, let things happen and
watch them roll by. With each step she took, she heeded Nan’s advice.

Her
strategy worked. Though the guests bombarded her with introductions, questions
and well wishes, she stayed close to Randolph’s side smiling, nodding and sipping
the champagne Randolph handed her.

“I’m
so happy for you.” One of the guests, an older woman in a light blue beaded
gown, leaned in and gave Randolph a kiss on the cheek. “Everything is lovely. I
was shocked to hear you eloped.”

“Sometimes
you have to seize an opportunity when it finds you.” He chuckled.

Willow
continued to smile. Thus far every conversation seemed to be a carbon copy of the
last.

“At
least you decided to have a celebration fitting for your family.” The woman
patted him on the shoulder. “You wouldn’t want to look bad. You have a name to
uphold.”

More
than once the guests made similar comments about family, reputation, his name
and appearances. Her smile waned and she glanced around the foyer, taking in
the people from a different perspective. Rather than becoming blinded with the
jewels, the clothes, and the trappings most everyone wished for, she suddenly
saw the riches as weights. Each person there was trying desperately to outdo
another for position, waiting for the right moment to knock someone off their
pedestal. Any small thing could hurt them.

“Please
enjoy yourself.” Randolph nodded.

The
woman walked away to be replaced by a younger couple.

“I
never thought I would see the day the bachelor of Bel Air would be married.” The
woman elbowed him.

“Well
the day has come.” Randolph produced his poster-worthy smile.

“I
see this.” The woman held her hand out toward Willow. “Let me see the ring. It’s
all anyone can talk about.”

Why
was seeing the ring such a critical point? What about the jewelry made it
important? Instead, she held her hand out and gazed down at the stone with the
woman. If the marriage had been real, had he gotten down on one knee and
proposed to her because he loved her and married her because he couldn’t
envision his life without her, Randolph could have given her a ring made out of
tin foil and she would have loved it.

“I
have heard about this diamond for years.” The woman sighed. “It’s a lot to live
up to.”

Out
of the corner of her eye she noticed Randolph looking at her.

“I
love the history.” She kept her hand out. Yes, any mistake, no matter how silly
or superficial, could harm Randolph, any mistake including choosing the wrong
restaurant. She faced him.

The
couple went on their way and he wrapped his arm around her waist, the first
true attention he showed her since the office when he asked her what she wanted.

“I
don’t know.” She meant to only think the words but realized she said them
aloud. How did she end up here? The man had everything and with one slip almost
lost it all until he earned his consolation prize. What was it like to live
knowing that with one error, everything he worked for could vanish?

“What?”
He tilted his head.

“I
meant I didn’t know.” She wanted to explain, dare she say apologize, but she shook
her head and put another smile on her face. “Never mind.” Randolph and his
father were right. The party was more akin to a business function with no time
to talk.

“No
tell me.” He gave their empty glasses to one of the waiters passing by and took
both her hands. “But first there is something I need to tell you.”

Damn
her stomach for fluttering. Those sensations didn’t belong to her, not for their
sham marriage. She didn’t need to talk to him she only made a mistake about the
dinner, she didn’t commit a crime. No, not true. She took a breath. No mistake
on her part, no, she completely disregarded something of importance to the man
she married. After always being taught to appreciate the differences, when it
came to her husband she only saw one side. “Randolph.” Even upset, the man
still had her business cards made and sent Peter over to help with the two
hundred piece lotion order.

He
ignored the next couple of people who came up to them and took her by the
waist. “With everything going on, I didn’t know how to tell you how absolutely
gorgeous you are tonight.” He stepped closer and leaned over to her ear. “You
did what many couldn’t, made me speechless. Honestly, you do that no matter
what. I wish we could just go be alone. I hate these kinds of parties.”

She
closed her eyes and let the shivers he created by whispering in her ear take
over. “I’m sorry about the dinner, I didn’t understand, but I think I do now.” Her
chest lightened, letting her heart swell. Part of her wished the organ would
set her free, but Randolph seemed to have some bizarre control over her.

“I’m
sorry I was so upset. I shouldn’t have just expected you to know.” He kissed
her ear and trailed his lips down to her neck. “I can’t tell you how proud I am
of how you are acting tonight.”

It
took her a moment to realize what he said. At first she only heard him
apologize. Almost like an after taste of something sour did her mind process
the words about him being proud of her. “Proud of me?” She found the strength
to put her hands on his shoulders and push him back.

“Yes,
so proud. I didn’t know if you would ever understand. I’m glad we got that out
of the way.” He went to kiss her once more.