Rose of Betrayal (48 page)

           
Maggie
informed her, although Brad ate Christmas dinner with her, he did not
linger.
 
He appeared restless, not at all
normal, she added with a great deal of concern in her voice.
 
Ralph said Brad stopped by his apartment late
in the afternoon and surprised him by refusing a beer.
 
His keen senses told him Brad was deeply
troubled.

           
Knowing
they had closed the office for the Holidays she felt compelled to double
check.
 
Discovering it empty turned her
heart into a puddle at her feet.
 
Despondency's ache worsened upon learning he was not at the gym either,
when the phone in Southampton went unanswered repeatedly, she abdicated and
became besieged by a quiet brooding mood.
 

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Brad’s
generosity dismayed Bernie. Despite knowing of his feelings for Sam, resentment
twitched in the wake of her first invitation to tour the shop.
 

           
Sensing
Bernie's unusual bout of envy, Sam wondered if she was still carrying a torch
for Brad.
 
Whatever it was, her mood
gradually improved as they tossed about ideas to make their boutique
irresistible.

 
          
Bernie
questioned why she resented Sam and Brad.
 
Both were offering her an opportunity of a lifetime.
 
During her visit, Sam said repeatedly, “Our
shop.”
  
Possibly Brad's gift was meant
for her indirectly.
 
   
In time she relented, it was not the gift distressing
her, but current disillusionment.
 

For the first time ever
Bernie missed her monthly cycle, and was fearful she was pregnant.
  
Initially panic took up residency until she
thought about the child being Brads.
 
Of course,
Brad was the father, he had to be, and they had sex several times without the
protection they never failed to use.
 
Brad did not give her time.
 
The
sex shared was wild and passionate, and yet she never thought about becoming
pregnant.
  

           
Peter's
reentrance into her life did little to fill the void Brad left behind.
 
The weight of the emptiness told her someday
she would have to, let Brad go, get on with her life.
 
When she was ready, she reasoned.
 
Not yet, not while there was an ounce of
hope.
 
Tears never came as effortlessly
or as intensely as they did the day her menses came. When the tears finally
ceased, she decided the trauma was a sign she needed to forget Brad, settle
down with someone else, and start a family.
 
Peter deserved a second chance.
 

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The
hot coffee had cooled untouched by Sam as she stared beyond the shop's
window.
 
She felt tired, very tired.
 
Reflections of Brad precluded thoughts of
anything else.
 

           
Since
his return, Ted only touched upon the sensations Brad elicited.
 
To her horror, she found herself equating
everything about him to Brad as if weighing and measuring the men in her life
like a piece of meat eager to select nothing but prime, and she wondered if men
did the same with women.
 
Had she become
a victim of Brad’s, an expert in awakening a woman's desires?
    

           
There
was still time, she reflected.
 
She was
not married yet.
 
Perhaps now was not the
time, maybe she should wait a while longer to make a commitment or, could it be
what Bernie called, “Wedding Day Blues?”

           
Having
observed Sam intently all morning, Bernie noticed even the sketches exciting
her before Christmas now sprawled on the table went unnoticed.
 
Sam’s melancholy mood confused her.
 
           
She
was well aware it was Wednesday, knew Sam completely exhausted every feasible
lead to Brad's whereabouts. Apparently, his gift completely erased all thoughts
of the wedding for Sam had not mentioned it since Christmas Eve.
 
Bernie wondered if that was exactly what Brad
intended his gift to do, or, worse, maybe Sam had fallen in love with Brad just
like all the other women he had known.

           
 
Bernie knew Brad was in Southampton, Peter told
her.
 
Several times, she contemplated
telling Sam.
 
Some uncharacteristic demon
kept diverting her mind.
 
Glancing again
at her forlorn friend appearing as though her thoughts were miles away, Bernie
could not endure the blame any longer.
 
Maybe Sam came to her senses.
 
Maybe she was having second thoughts about marrying Ted.
  

           
A
barrage of questions began spinning in Bernie's skull.
 
As Sam's best friend, how could she allow her
to marry Ted when she was certain their life would be miserable?
 
Would Brad make Sam even more miserable?
 
There wasn't much time left.
 
God, make up your mind, you foolish, love
crazed idiot she spouted inwardly.
  
Slamming down the stack of orders in her hand, she thought if they were
supposed to be together . . . Shit!
 
“Sam!
 
Sam!”
 
          
It was not until Bernie tapped Sam’s
shoulder she actually received a response.
 

“Bernie!
 
Did you want me?
 
I'm sorry.
 
I don't know what's wrong with me.” Like a fountain, tears sprang forth.
 
Sam's face found her palms.
 

Reluctantly Bernie shoved words past
her lips, “He's in Southampton.”

Jerking her head up, pallid face
awash with tears, “What?”

For a few seconds Bernie hesitated
before repeating, “Brad is in Southampton.”

           
Sam
shot upward completely unaware her hands were gripping Bernie's shoulders
shaking her as she shouted, “You knew?
 
You knew all along and kept it to yourself?
 
Why, oh, what a stupid question, forget it.”

           
It
was obvious Bernie was still in love with Brad.
 
Well, it did not matter.
 
She
needed to see him, thank him even if it meant fighting off the part of her
warning of the danger of being alone with him.
 
The idea more frightening and exhilarating than anything she had ever
experienced.
 
Overwhelming emotions
prompted a plea, “Come with me, Bernie.
 
Please.”

           
Turning
her back to Sam swiping at betraying moisture, Bernie answered, “You are simply
going to thank the guy and come right back, right?
 
There's a lot here to be done if we're going
to open soon.”
  
She drew in a deep
breath blinking wildly at the tears forming all too easily at the thought of
Sam and Brad together.
 
She could not go,
seeing them together would hurt - unmercifully.

           
To
alleviate his worry of Sam roaming the city alone, Ted arranged for a limo to
be at her beckon call, parked on a side street near the shop.
 
Upon request, the limo pulled in front of the
store.
 

           
Assisting
Sam with her coat, masking her own emotions with reassurances, “I'll take care
of everything.
 
Now don't worry.”
  
Shoving her friend out the door, “Do you
want Ted to know where you are?
 
It's New
Years’ Eve. You told me the two of you have special plans.”

           
“There's
no need, I'll be back in time.
 
Be a dear
and cover for me will you?
 
You are such
a good friend, Bernie.
 
I don't know what
I would do without you.”
  
Blowing Bernie
a kiss, Sam ducked into the limo.

           
Sam had damn well better be back in
time, Bernie fussed, she didn't want to be the one to inform Ted were his
fiancée’ ventured.
  
Thankfully, nothing breakable
was in the way, she would have certainly smashed it.
 

CHAPTER 40

“NEW YEAR'S EVE, 2010”

           
Until
halfway to Brads, Sam never thought about changing her clothing; worn, dirty,
sweat suit and sneakers, comfortable as well as appropriate attire while
renovating the shop.
 
Surely, Ted would
be aghast, thankfully, she sighed, Brad was not as particular.
 
Besides, her intentions were not to make an
impression, the worse she appeared the better.

           
As
the limo navigated Brad's driveway, at the first sight of the house pleasant
memories percolated making her stomach quiver and flooding her with
warmth.
  
Unwilling to believe otherwise
it was its' seclusion, oneness with nature, and quietness.
 
Conclusions lasting until discovering the
house empty.
 
A time when she reluctantly
admitted the warmth came from Brad’s presence.
 
Certain he would not be gone too long considering his car was in the
garage, she waited.

           
Climbing
the stairs to the deck, she breathed deeply of the crisp chill of winter.
 
Titling her head skyward found the sun high
and bright, the sky spattered with cotton ball clouds.
 
Ominous clusters in the west did little to
undermine her exuberance as she reflected how beautiful the surrounding grounds
would appear covered with an apron of snow.
 
The naked trees offered a splendid view of the pond, the fountain now
abandoned by its usual water spray.
 

           
A
quick glance at her watch said time was waning.
  
Ted promised a gala evening of celebration
for New Year’s Eve, but, for some unexplainable reason there was nowhere else
she'd rather be to welcome in the New Year.

           
 
A thought swelled and burst forward.
  
Brad would be jogging he mentioned that he
preferred to run on days when the air was cool, the sun brilliant.
 
She spent little time contemplating joining
him.
  
Having jogged together before, she
knew the route he would have taken.
 

           
Removing
her fur coat, she tossed it on top of her purse flung upon Brad's favorite
chair.
 
Pausing a moment she ran her
fingers over the fur's softness.
 
A laugh
popped inside.
 
How absurd it was to wear
a mink coat over a sweat suit. Without a doubt, strangers would consider her
quite eccentric.

Running felt delicious,
covering quite a distance before her heart rate increased impressed her.
 
The wind pushing against her back made her
feet feel as if she had sprouted wings.
 
Ahead, she would surprise Brad.
 
The thought quickening the pace assaulting the ground.
 
Each time the treads of her sneakers met with
the dirt they stomped out previous troubled thoughts and replaced them with
reflections of the first time they jogged together.
 
He had teased her unmercifully about being
slow and out of shape.
 
A smile twitched
her lips.
 
Today she would show him.

           
Brad's
jogging suit was drenched with sweat from running until he could run no more,
and exercising until he was unable to lift a five-pound weight.
 
Yet, nothing exhausted him enough to induce a
restful sleep.
 
Impossible it was, when
each time he closed his eyes Sam appeared, her velvet lips, the anticipation of
the sweet taste.
  
Dear God, just when he
became a prisoner held hostage by her memory he would never know, someone
teetering on the edge of a cliff awaiting a puff of wind.