Rose of Betrayal (41 page)

Feeling her hair
lovingly swept from her forehead, light kisses peppering every speck of her
face, before her eyes fluttered open, a meager protest began to leave Bernie's
mouth.
 
Brad's lips, soft and
manipulating silenced her. Gently lifting her tee shirt enabled their skin to
touch and despite no kindling, no matches, no sparks, a fire blazed out of
control.
 
Never relinquishing Bernie's
lips, Brad's body came over hers’ and began a friction, slow and easy, at
first, until the only answer was to fight fire with fire.
 
Altercating the flames with what energy
remained, both took the path it lead them down, devouring everything in its way
until an explosion so intense smothering the blaze sent mutual screams rippling
into the air.
 
Still, the fire smoldered
requiring the remainder of the day to suffocate.
 
Hours came and went with intervals of
sustenance for the body and soul.

           
That
evening, swaddled in terry robes, they sat snuggled together on the sofa
sipping hot chocolate and watching the fire in the grate burn out, an interlude
of harmony suspended by a knock on the door.
 
Halting Brad's attempt at rising, Bernie moved to the door.
 
Opening it, she received a blast of cold air
emanating from cutting eyes dazing her and making her head spin. “Peter!”

           
Embarrassment
washed Peter's face with color.
 
A sweep
of his eyes scrutinized the pair, their attire.
 
There was only one obvious conclusion.
 
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt.
 
I came home early to be with you, Bernie.
 
I missed you. I was worried when I did not
find you at the house.
 
I
can see
you are in good hands.”
 
Hurt
transforming his features turned him to leave, his uttered goodnight
  
barely audible.

A multitude of confusing emotions
surged and regressed.
 
Bernie
shivered.
 
“Wait, Peter.
 
It's not what you think.”

Vaulting to the door, Brad called
after him, “Pete come back, for Gods’ sake.
 
Let us explain!”

Continuing his retreat, Peter stated
simply, “No explanation needed, my friend.
 
See you around, Bernie.”
 

Standing in the doorway
dumbstruck, they watched Keller's Mercedes peal out of the driveway. Pulling
Bernie's stunned form inside, Brad closed the door.
 
Despite strong arms drawing her into a haven
of warmth, her body quivered.
 
“I'm so
sorry, sweetheart.
 
I sure have a way of
screwing things up, don't I?”

           
Wit
slowly gaining ground on shock raised Bernie’s drowning eyes.
 
“I'm not.
 
Don't worry about it, O.K.?
 
There
is nothing between Peter and me.
 
Honest.”
 
Brushing Bernie's
forehead with a kiss, Brad persisted, “Are you sure?”

“Of course I am,” she lied
convincingly.

“About what happened, I want . . . “

           
Bernie
could not bare to hear what she knew Brad was about to say.
 
Pressing her fingers to his lips she crooned,
“Don't say anything, Brad.
 
Please.
 
What happened - happened.
 
It was wonderful while it lasted.
 
We both needed someone, that's all.
 
It was something special between friends.
 
Let's not spoil it.”

A flush came into Brad's face he
coughed and swayed.
 
Turning him toward
the sofa, “Now, go lie down and rest, I'll fix something hot to chase away the
chill.”

           
Knowing
her liaison with Brad could never be anything more than a passing in the night
Bernie reminded herself the times they made love were all she had ever
hoped.
 
They would have to be enough to
last.
 
Until she died, no man would ever
erase the ecstasy of those moments from her mind.

           
Surprisingly,
Peter's appearance made her heart sink.
 
Caught she was trading the dream of slipping beneath the sheets with
Brad for the one she had been conjuring up of leaving Harlem to enter Peter's
world.
 
Sweeping up the fragments of
wishes, she reasoned, it would not work with Peter, no more than it would with
Brad.
 
Each person’s life is
pre-destined. Despite all the romantic Fairy Tales, for her a happy-ending
simply was not in the cards.
 
While the
teakettle whistled, she allowed her dreams to follow the course of the steam
offering them up to the inevitable.

CHAPTER 35

“DECEMBER,
2010”

           
Their wedding would be a celebration
to rival all others held in Manhattan, Ted promised Samantha.
 
Sitting together in the penthouse delegating
responsibilities they mutually agreed the lengthy list would be
challenging.
 
Organizing a wedding, in
such a short time seemed an impossible task, further complicating matters, Sam
insisted on designing and sewing her gown as well as Bernie's.
  

           
Ted had money, a sizable sum.
 
Anywhere in the world when you waved money
beneath the right noses the smell of its green spoke a language of its own, the
reason he was able to procure Saint Patrick’s for the ceremony on such short
notice.
  
The Waldorf Astoria would host
the reception its sizable room necessary to provide Sam with a surprise of a
lifetime.
 
Spending an entire afternoon
with a world-renowned florist he assured Ted since money was no object his
ideas for decorating the ballroom would be absolutely no problem.
   
        

           
It was surprising Ted contemplated
how enthusiastic he was about his impending marriage considering his life was
about to change.
 
Soon Sam would be his
wife.
 
Through it all, occupying his mind
most was conjuring up lusty thoughts pertaining to his honeymoon night.
 
Naturally, Sam would be a novice, the rush he
was anxiously awaiting.
 
Teaching her
lovemaking in the ways he enjoyed would take time having learned the importance
of patience through Sam.
 

           
Relaying the news to her parents was
not easy.
  
It was the sound of Sam's
voice conveying her obvious bliss eventually convincing them she was doing what
she felt was right.
 
Ted would take good
care of their daughter, they concluded.
 
His success in the business world meant Sam would not lack for monetary
things.
 

           
Upon receiving her parent’s
blessing’ caught inside the eye of a tornado Sam felt not knowing which
direction to fling her first.
 
Thankfully, Bernie’s shift at work did not begin until late in the
evening, and requiring little sleep, both were able to spend the day light
hours shopping, designing and sewing.
  
Peter was no problem, he had not spoken to Bernie since the night he
arrived unexpectedly at Brads.
 
Their
brief affair was over.

           
The hustle and bustle of Sam's
endless energy and excitement worried Bernie.
 
Wrapped in a blanket of happiness Sam had little time to think about her
future with Ted.
 
Worrying Bernie most
was wondering if Sam really knew what awaited her, if she would be able to
handle Ted's lifestyle, his friends, and his flirtations.
 
Bernie felt like shaking her into reality,
but did not have the heart to burst Sam's bubble.
 

CHAPTER 36

“DECEMBER,
2010”

           
It
appeared as though the Victorian angel cresting the twelve-foot tree had
gathered all the stars from the heavens sprinkling them beneath, each branch
sheathed with twinkling tiny white lights.
 
At the tips, Ivory, lace bows secured iridescent, crystal bulbs.
 
Pearl strands looped around the
circumference.
 
Beneath the looming
umbrella, the carpet covered by silver wrapped surprises adorned with red
velvet ribbons.
 

           
Caterers
just delivered the Christmas Eve dinner.
 
Feeling gratified, Sam scurried about the kitchen placing the morsels in
vessels with some kept warm in the oven, others, cold in the refrigerator.
 
           
Everyone
would welcome a quiet celebration, she decided, the wedding preparations had
everyone worn to a frazzle.
  
It would be
a treat to dine, converse and share gifts with their closest friends.
 

           
Placed
on a shelf during the past few weeks were thoughts of Brad. Whenever Sam took
them down and dusted them off tiny shoots of tingling sensations spiraled
around her equally frightening and exhilarating.
 
It was best to think only of Ted and their
pending marriage.

           
Admiring
the crystal nativity scene selected for the fireplace mantel, Sam fluffed the
white bows holding the garland.
 
Fretful
the food would ruin if her guests did not arrive soon, just as she flipped the
switch to the fireplace, the doorbell rang.

           
“Merry
Christmas,” Bernie bellowed, waltzing in carrying an immense, gaily wrapped
package shoved into Sam's arms.
   
Giving
her host a quick bear hug, tossing her coat onto a chair she headed straight
for the warm puffs of air coming from the fireplace.
 

Releasing a heavy sigh of relief, Sam
greeted her. “I'm so glad you are here, Bernie.
 
This place is so quiet and lonely.
 
Ted has been gone several days now.
  
I miss him terribly.”

           
Rubbing the chill from her hands,
Bernie chirped, “So you miss the big lug, huh, not a good sign.
 
It must be love.
 
God, I'm freezing.
  
New York is the only place with all the
trimmings of Christmas and no snow.”
 
Bernie’s eyes scanned the room, “Wow!
 
You have done a terrific job decorating.
 
Ted will love it.”

Pleased her friend
noticed, Sam replied, “Do you really think so?”
 

Pulling a face,
Bernie queried, “Are you by any chance questioning my taste?”
 

A flashback of Bernie
in one of her outrageous outfits made Sam laugh.
 
As if sharing the memory Bernie joined
in.
 
“You look fantastic, Bernie,” Sam
continued, still smiling.

“Why wouldn't I when
the world's greatest clothing designer created my wardrobe.”
 
Twirling, she made one exaggerated pose after
another, “What do you think?”

           
Bernie's height added to the
magnificence of the black, silk jump suit Sam had fashioned for her as a
Christmas present. The sheer, white nylon, multi-layered, billowing yoke, and cuffs
at the end of long sleeves trimmed with a narrow gold beading to add a festive
touch, the alluring, lunging neckline exposing the proper amount of cleavage.

           
 
Since Keller’s party, Bernie did not revert to
her old image.
 
The glowing auburn
highlights remained in her hair, subdued shades of color added a blush to her
face.
 
A new look for a new life she
pledged after agreeing to accept Sam's offer to model.
 
No one but herself knew how anxiously she
counted the days until Sam’s boutique opened.
 
Then she would quit her job at Jakes.
 
Inundated with orders from the women at Keller's party, immediately
after the honeymoon Sam and Bernie planned to launch their career.

           
Sam hoped it would help with the
depression plaguing Bernie since her break up with Peter.
 
As Bernie stood by the fire, the pain masked
beneath her facade of holiday cheer was obvious.
 
Wondering if Peter had come to his senses,
she inquired, “Have you heard from Peter?”