Perfect Harmony (17 page)

His hands knead my breasts, pinching my pebbled nipples
through the wet fabric of my shirt, and I scream out in ecstasy.  At least, I
think I scream.  My mouth is open and words and hot breath are billowing out,
but all I can think of is the feel of his hands touching me and his lips on
mine, and his tongue tasting my own, stroking and caressing.

Suddenly, I feel his hands disappear under my dress.

I pull away from his lips.

“No,” I say breathlessly.

“Do not defy me,” he says, and kisses my neck.

I pull my head back, lost in the waves of passion, as his
fingers trail up my thigh and curl into the elastic of my panties.

“You don’t love me,” I whisper.

“I love our child,” he says.

I pull back, and look into his inescapably dark eyes.  “You
do, don’t you?”

“Yes.  Now let love go.  Let it disappear and be happier
than you ever imagined.”

“Oh, Chase!” I cry.

And in that moment, I let my dream die.

But I don’t care anymore.

“Yes,” I say in a blunt whisper.

“Yes?”

“Yes.  I’ll marry you.”

He’s taken aback and stares at me.  His lips curve into a
wide smile, and for the first time, I realise he looks happy.  Truly happy.

There may be no love, but we make each other happy.  And
with a baby, that’s all you need.

Dear god, I pray that’s all we need.

We have nothing else.

––––––––

––––––––

M
y hand squeezes Chase’s own as I peer at the rolling
verdant hills and endless trees zipping past the train’s window.  It’s a chilly
evening, but there’s an entrancing sense of warmth from the sight of the
setting sun playing peek-a-boo between the branches.

I look at Chase sat next to me.  He’s engrossed in a copy of
the Great Gatsby and a smile breaks out on my face when I realise the
similarities between him and the eponymous titular character.  Of course,
despite his power and wealth, Gatsby was still capable and willing to love.

But that doesn’t matter to me, anymore.

My time with Chase ended in infamy.  Once we had decided to
elope, he made sure to inform Mercedes that marriage wasn’t on the cards,
because he was marrying me instead.  She broke an expensive vase and stamped on
the picture of the doorman’s family.

“
You know what?  Fuck you!  Fuck you both!
” hissed
the beautiful starlet as she picked pieces of glass out of her ludicrously
expensive heels.  “I don’t give a shit if you’re knocked up, you’re nothing but
a whore.  You’re not worthy of him.”

Anger flared in Chase’s eyes and he made a move towards her,
but I stood in the way and stopped him.

“Come on, let’s go,” I said to him.

Begrudgingly, he took my hand and we made it to the door
before Mercedes piped up again, shouting down the hallway.

“I’ll be waiting Chase,” she called.  “I’ll be here when you
realise the huge mistake you’ve made.  This isn’t over!”

And then her shrill voice was silenced by the sliding glass
doors.

We climbed into Chase’s red Porsche and gunned it down
Madison Avenue.

“What now?” I asked Chase, the rays of sunlight now piercing
the storm clouds and frosting his black hair with a trace of silver.

“I was thinking Vegas,” he said.  “But my private jet is
currently grounded in San Francisco.”

“We could take a flight from JFK and be there by the
morning.  First class, maybe?  I always wanted to fly first class.”

He smirked at me.  “Nothing else.”

But when we reached the airport, we found no available
flights until the next evening.  Agitated, Chase tried on his charm with the
booking staff, and when that failed, he tried good hard cash.  It didn’t work.

“It’s alright,” I said.  “We’ll fly out tomorrow.”

“No,” said Chase firmly.  “I refuse to wait.  I want you to
be my wife now.”

“That’s sweet, but what other options are there?”

“There must be something.”  He paced back and forth.

“We could always take the train,” I offered.

“To Nevada?  That’ll take even longer.”

“Not to Nevada.  To Niagara Falls.”

He looked at me quizzically.

“I had a friend who got married there - it’s really romantic
and there’s the sights and you get a private log cabin with balloons and the
whole ceremony is right there on the falls,” I said wistfully.  “And it’s only
nine hours.”

Chase nodded.  He took my hand to his lips and kissed it. 
“Sounds perfect.”

The train screeches to a stop and Chase’s attention leaves
his book.

“Where are we?” he asks.

“Rochester.  Still another four hours or so left.”

The train starts up again and Chase asks the serving lady
for two glasses of champagne, adding: “Non-alcoholic.”

“Champagne?” I say, as she hands them to us.

“We are getting married.  Isn’t it customary?” Chase says
with a smirk.

I take a sip and return my stare to the hypnotic movement
passing beyond the window.

“Is everything alright?” asks Chase.

“Fine, just fine.  Great.  No, amazing even.”

“But?”

I squirm.  “Nothing really, things are just moving fast. 
Not that I don’t love that, but you kind of need a minute or two to let the
world catch up to you.”

He nods.  “It’s you family, isn’t it?”

My family?

Oh god, what does Chase know?  Does he know who I really
am?  Of course, he must.  He would never dare chance asking me to marry him
without vetting me first.

But if he did, then how come he still wants me?

“Do you want to wait so your father can attend the ceremony?”

“My father?” I blurt out.

“Yes, do you want him there?  I know it’s a long way from
Iowa, but I can fly him out when my jet is cleared.”

My father has no need for a private jet - he has ten of his
own.  Chase must still be ignorant of my odious lie.

A deep sense of guilt fills my gut.

I want to tell him the truth, more than anything.  But my
family are his arch rivals, not to mention, finding out I lied about my entire
life and who I am...

I’d lose Chase.  I know I would.

There’s no way I’d risk that, not when I finally have him. 
Not with the baby on the way.

“I don’t really speak to my father,” I say.  “At all,
really.  He doesn’t like me very much.”

“That can’t be true.”

“It’s okay, I don’t like him very much, either.”

“So it’s just the three of us, then?”

I feel giddy.  “Just the three of us.”

Chase traces my stomach with his fingertips, a look of
longing and happiness on his face.  He curls a stray tendril of my hair behind
my ear and I shake from the thrill.  He leans in and we kiss.  But it’s not a
passionate and hungry kiss.  It’s one of tenderness and protection and warmth.

He breaks away.  “You know, I mean what I said, Melody.  I
cannot love you.”

“Shhh,” I whisper.  “It doesn’t matter.”

And it doesn’t.  I don’t need Chase’s love.  If anything,
I’m more scared of his hatred.

But as long as he doesn’t find out the truth of who I am, I
have nothing to worry about.  He’ll find out eventually, I know he will.  But
if I can just keep it from him long enough for him to realise how much he cares
for me, maybe that’ll be enough to keep our family together.

I don’t have any other options.

“Damn it,” says Chase.

“What is it?”

“Your passport?  Do you have it?”

“No - it’s packed up with the rest of my stuff at home.  Why
would I need it?”

“It’s no matter - I’ll have my people grab it along with
your things.”

“Chase, why do I need my passport?”

He smiles gently.  “I have a villa in Tuscany.  I thought we
could spend our honeymoon, there.  It’s right on the coast.  You’ll love it so
much.”

“It sounds beautiful,” I say, feeling giddy.

He strokes my face.  “Beauty demands beauty.”

I feel like my feet are going to lift me off the ground, but
suddenly a pang hits my gut and I come crashing down to earth.

My passport has my name on it.  My real name.

I’d used my mother’s maiden name to apply for the job with
Harmony Records, but it was never my legal name.

Even worse, the back of my passport has my emergency contact
details and next of kin - my brother Duncan.

“Do we really need to leave the country?” I ask.  “Surely being
together is everything?  And I don’t want to put your people out.”

“Nonsense.  You have no need to worry, my princess.  This is
their job.  It’s what they’re paid to do.

I give him a wistful smile, hoping beyond hope that his
people don’t open my passport and relay my lie to him.

Dear god, I hope Chase doesn’t read it himself.

I turn to the window and stare at the trees shooting past,
and before I know it, I fall deeply asleep against Chase’s shoulder.

The next thing I feel is the soft caress of Chase’s lips
against my forehead.  I open my eyes and the bright sheet of light breaks from
the dawn over the horizon, momentarily blinding me.

The train has stopped moving.

“Good morning, my princess,” says Chase.  “Today is the
first day of the rest of our lives.”

We depart from the train and a taxi takes us to the
luxurious Marriott hotel.

“I thought we were staying in a cabin?” I ask, as the
elevator ascends to the five star hotel’s penthouse suite.

“This is more my style.”

We spend the morning eating a lavish breakfast brought up by
room service; seven carts overflowing with every item on the menu.  My stomach
grumbles as my eyes feast on the sight: waffles, French toast, poached eggs,
pain au chocolat, bacon, fruit salad, butter croissants and more.

Afterwards, Chase escorts me to an obscenely expensive
bridal boutique in the centre of town.

I sift through the price tags and nearly have a heart
attack.

“So, this is the one you choose?” asks Chase.

“What?  No, I don’t know.  I mean, I was just looking at the
price.”

“Do you always check out the price before you admire the
clothes?”

“Old habits die hard,” I say.  “It is really beautiful,
though.  Guess why it’s the most expensive in the shop.”  My fingers trace the
beaded white fabric.

Chase beckons over the store clerk.  “We’ll take this one.”

“Chase, you can’t!”  My voice drops to a whisper.  “It’s
forty thousand dollars.”

“Beauty demands beauty,” he says, as if that’s the end of
the matter.

Before I can reply, he’s selected a dashing tuxedo for
himself and we depart to grab our marriage license.

When we return to the hotel, a bridal bouquet awaits us by
the wall to wall windows that look straight out over the falls.

It’s like a dream, and every moment my heart lifts with pure
happiness.

And a sense of dread that any moment I’ll wake up and be
back in my admin job, no friends, no family, and ignored by everyone.

But the dream doesn’t end.  It goes on and on, and before I
know it, we’re making passionate love against the glass window, exploring every
inch of skin with our lips.

I throw him on to the Persian rug next to the grand piano
and mount him, riding him over and over, my perky swollen breasts bobbing up
and down rhythmically with every thrust of his manhood.  And as the ecstasy
fills my body completely, I climax, over and over, exploding for hours, covered
in his kisses and his touch and his hot breath.

We lay naked on the carpet, his gigantic arms wrapped around
my waist, embracing me and pulling me closer.

“We’re late,” I say.

“I know,” he says.

“The wedding on the falls, the appointment was three hours
ago.”

His finger caresses my hip and I shudder.  “I got
distracted,” he says.

“We should go.”

“We should.”  His fingers dip lower, journeying towards my
inner thigh and my tender sex.  My skin feels on edge and I want him inside me
again.

“So let’s get up.”

“Let’s,” he says, and kisses my neck.

We make love again.

It had been four hours since our appointment time, but it
was nothing a wad of bills couldn’t solve.  To begin with, how Chase solved
every problem by just throwing money at it irked me at a basic level.  But now
I’m finding it such a comfort.

We finally marry standing on the edge of Niagara Falls, the
soft beauty of the landscape enveloping us in a future of limitless
possibilities - but with one thing for certain - we would be together.

Another couple bares witness as we’re pronounced man and
wife.  Hundreds of balloons of green and red and blue lift into the sky, and
the band plays and the falls bellows before us like the applause of hundreds,
and Chase takes me in his arms and we kiss.

Our first ever kiss as man and wife.

And I couldn’t be happier.

We board my husband’s jet at Niagara Falls International
Airport and set off for Italy.

Inside, I find my possessions packed into four neat boxes. 
I rip the top one open and rummage inside, desperate to find my passport.

“Looking for this?” says Chase.  He pulls out my passport
from his inside pocket.  “My man just gave this to me.  I think there’s
something we need to discuss.”

My heart thunders against my chest and I can feel the world
about to crumble beneath me.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Your name.  It’s wrong.”

I dry swallow and it’s the size of a bowling ball.

“We should have it changed,” he says.  “To Melody Strong.”

“You haven’t looked at it?” I blurt out, suddenly cursing
myself for my idiocy.

“I don’t need to, I can see you any time I want.”  He hands
me the passport and I take it, trying my damn hardest to not rip it from his
grip and give myself away.

“You’re right,” I say.  “I’ll change my name when we get
back to New York.”