The Beautiful Ones (Arabesque) (7 page)

“They’re here.” Ophelia fretted and turned back to her rack of clothes. “Go ahead and greet them,” she instructed, seeming unaware of his rising anger. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

The bell rang again.

“Honey.” Ophelia turned and blew him a kiss. “Now, go. Go. Go.”

Amazingly, the airborne kiss was enough to cool his temper. Besides, he no longer had to worry. Solomon was coming to dinner with his girlfriend.
Girlfriend
.

He exited the bedroom with a sudden spring to his step. As he crossed through the living room, he heard the low hum of voices in the foyer. He rounded the corner just as Benton, his butler, accepted the couple’s jackets.

“Good evening,” Jonas greeted him with outstretched arms, but his gaze immediately sought the ebony beauty at Solomon’s side.

“Good evening,” they replied.

“I can’t tell you how much of a pleasure it is to meet you…?”

“Selma,” she supplied her name, and then displayed two rows of pearly white teeth.

“Selma,” he repeated, taking her hand and brushing a brief kiss along her knuckles. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jonas Hinton.”

She blinked. “Not Jonas Hinton, as in the new owner of the Carolina Panthers?”

Jonas’s smile widened. “Guilty.”

“Wow. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Her gaze swept her surroundings. “You have a nice place. It’s so big and…clean.”

Solomon’s gaze narrowed.

“What?” she asked.

At the sound of heels clicking across the floor, everyone turned.

Solomon sucked in a breath at the sight of Ophelia, resplendent in a fuchsia dress that hugged her voluptuous curves like a second layer of skin. His heart thumped wildly as a warm heat radiated throughout his body.

“Purple,” Jonas said. He slid an arm around her small waist, and then leaned over to plant a kiss against her offered cheek. “Interesting choice.”

An instant ache throbbed where Solomon’s heart once resided. How in the hell was he going to get through this night?

Chapter 9

“Y
ou must be Selma.” Ophelia stretched out her hand, while struggling to maintain a smile. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Nice to finally meet you.” A smile fluttered weakly on Selma’s lips.

It took less than a nanosecond for Ophelia to size up Selma and note that although this married woman was attractive, Ophelia wouldn’t have figured her to be Solomon’s type—not that he had a type.

Releasing Selma’s hand, Ophelia took note of the large diamond on the woman’s finger. “Well, tonight’s menu is Italian.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Solomon and Jonas chuckled in unison. Their gazes cut toward one another and all amusement faded.

“As you can tell, these two know Italian is my favorite,” Ophelia informed Selma.

“And my chef is the master,” Jonas added. “You’ll love him.”

“I, uh—” Selma glanced at Solomon “—don’t normally like Italian, but, uh, sure, why not?”

Ophelia’s smile tightened as her brain scrambled to figure out how to fix the situation. “I can get Raul to prepare something else, if you’d like?”

“No, no.” Selma reached for her hands. “It’s all right. I’m sure whatever you have prepared will be fine.”

“Oh, you’re engaged?” Jonas’s attention lowered to the ring, and then to the band beneath it.

At his frown, Ophelia tugged him on the arm. “Honey, why don’t we see if Raul can rustle something else up on short notice?”

Selma opened her mouth.

“It’s not a problem,” Ophelia said, cutting her off and still tugging on her fiancé. “Why don’t you two just make yourself comfortable in the living room? We’ll join you in a few minutes.”

At their host and hostess’s sudden disappearance, Solomon and Selma glanced at each other and burst out laughing.

“I guess she hasn’t told him,” Selma snickered, wiping at a stray tear.

“I think that’s a safe assumption.” He led her toward the first room adjacent to the foyer, and then leaned close to her ear. “Again, thanks for doing this for me.”

“Yeah, the things I do for a free meal.” She stopped in the center of the living room and took her time looking around. “Will you just check this place out? It’s beautiful.”

Solomon shrugged, unimpressed. “My place is just as nice.”

“Maybe.” She waltzed around and studied a few of the knickknacks. “You know, I fail to see what you hope to accomplish by letting Ophelia think you’re dating a married woman. Not that I’m not flattered.”

“I told you. I choked—I wasn’t thinking. Besides, she was just seconds away from pushing one of her girlfriends on me.”

“You know, I don’t get it. You’re a very handsome man. Surely you don’t need friends and a perverted uncle to find you a date. I mean, look at your office—that place is crawling with single women.”

“Never mix business with pleasure. I learned that one from Marcel.”

“The same Marcel that just married his secretary?”

Solomon cleared his throat. “Yeah, that one.”

Selma rolled her eyes. “You need to just tell her how you feel. There, I said it.”

“Again.”

“Yes—again. Your problem is that you don’t know how to take sound advice. It’s no sweat off my nose if you allow the love of your life to walk out the door. I have my knight in shining armor waiting for me back home in New York.”

“Yeah. Just wait until he hears that you’re cheating on him with me,” he joked.

“If anything, he’ll have a good laugh.” Her eyes rested on a picture of Jonas accepting an award of some kind. “I tell you what, this guy is pretty easy on the eyes. Those two will make some pretty babies, that’s for sure.”

Solomon’s chest tightened.

“What is it?” Selma rushed to him.

“I-it’s nothing.” He massaged his chest.

Selma’s maternal instincts kicked in, and she quickly placed a hand over his forehead to check his temperature.

“I’m fine, Selma.” He removed her hand and then placed his hands around her waist to physically move her away from him.

Ophelia and Jonas returned.

“Looks like we can’t leave you two alone for a minute,” Ophelia joked lightly after mistaking Solomon and Selma’s pose.

Jonas also laughed, but its sound had lost all the genuineness it had held earlier. “Er, Raul can accommodate whatever you’d prefer—”

“No, no. Really. Italian will be fine. I appreciate you two going out of your way.”

“It’s really—”

“Italian it is,” Solomon announced, irritated at how the conversation had bogged down over something as trivial as the dinner menu. Judging by how everyone’s eyes shifted in his direction, his tone must have been a bit too harsh. “So, what does a person have to do to get a drink around here?” He laughed.

On cue, Benton appeared. “Can I get anything from the bar?”

“Scotch on the rocks,” Solomon blurted.

Selma shook her head. “I’ll have a Cosmopolitan.”

Jonas and Ophelia also gave their drink orders, and then gestured for their guests to make themselves comfortable on the leather couches.

Solomon had never regretted anything more than accepting this dinner invitation. Other than the first eight minutes of being locked in the closet with Ophelia, he couldn’t remember another time when he was actually nervous around her. Was this what the future held?

What was it going to be like in the coming years when he came by to see them—and their children? His thoughts stopped. There was another painful pinch in his chest.

Benton returned just in time with a tray of drinks.

However, the alcohol did little to loosen anyone up.

“So…I hear congratulations are in order?” Selma finally broke the silence. “Did Marcel and Diana’s wedding inspire you?”

“You can say that,” Ophelia smiled. “It was certainly a beautiful wedding.”

“I’m sure it was. I saw some of the designs when Diana and her grandmother, Louisa, were planning it. I just hate that I had a sick kid on my hands and had to miss the whole event.”

Ophelia took another sip of her drink. “You have children?”

“Oh, yes.” Selma’s smile brightened with pride. “I have three handsome boys—of course, they look a great deal like their father.”

Solomon grabbed Selma’s free hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Picking up on the hint, she clamped her mouth shut.

“Well, I’m sorry you missed it,” Ophelia said softly.

“I’m sure it was beautiful…and I’m sure yours will be just as lovely. When is the date?”

“November twelfth,” Jonas boasted, giving his fiancée’s waist an affectionate squeeze. “Then she’ll be all mine.” He kissed her.

Solomon rubbed at his chest.

Ophelia smiled and brushed the residue of her glossed lips from Jonas’s. “Poor man just doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into.” She chuckled. “Isn’t that right, Solomon?”

“Apparently not.”

“I think I’m up for the task,” Jonas commented and managed to erase another inch between him and Ophelia.

“So.” Ophelia smiled, but her desperation to ease the tension was apparent. “How long have you two known each other?”

“Seven years,” Selma answered.

At Ophelia’s startled look, Solomon tossed back his drink and wished the burn had a stronger kick.

“That long?” Ophelia questioned.

“Well,” Jonas perked up. His smile relaxed a bit more. “Good for you.”

“Yeah,” Ophelia added softly and took another sip of her drink.

Solomon knew her well enough to know she was pissed—more likely for having been kept in the dark than any spark of jealousy.

“And here I thought I knew you.” Ophelia’s lips sloped unevenly.

“I guess we all have our secrets,” Solomon countered without missing a beat.

“Apparently some more than others,” she jabbed, and then eased into another smile. “You’ll have to forgive our sniping. I, for one, am happy Solomon has someone steady in his life—sort of. Maybe now I can stop worrying about him.”

“Yes.” Selma slid a hand down Solomon’s leg until it settled on his knee. “That’s my job now.”

Ignoring his friend’s boldness, Solomon forced a smile.

“Speaking of jobs,” Jonas leaped at the opportunity to be a part of the conversation. “What do you do, Selma?”

“I’m an entertainment agent.”

“Oh, so do you represent some of the acts at T & B?”

“Sure do. In fact, that’s how Solomon and I met.”

Music suddenly interrupted the stilted conversation, and Selma scrambled for her purse. When she opened it, Solomon recognized the
Barney’s
theme song.

“Hello.” Pause. “Hey, Tommy, baby.”

Solomon rolled his eyes.

“No, no. Mommy is not too busy right now.” She covered her mouthpiece and mumbled an apology to her host and hostess.

Ophelia’s gaze shifted to Solomon.

Miraculously, he held on to his smile.

“Yes, yes. He’s right here.”

Dread crept up Solomon’s spine—and sure enough, Selma turned toward him and held out the phone.

“Tommy wants to talk to you.”

Slack-jawed, Ophelia and Jonas watched him accept the phone.

“Hey, kid.” At the sound of little Tommy’s excited voice, Solomon dropped the pretense and enjoyed a hurried recap of the child’s day. There was just something about his godson that never failed to put a smile on his face. “That’s great,” he said when the child finally managed to pause for a breath. “Yes, I’m going to keep my promise and take you and your brothers to Disney World.”

Selma turned her smile toward the engaged couple. “The boys just love their Uncle Solomon.”

“All right, all right. Here’s your mom.” He handed back the phone, still chuckling. When his gaze returned to Ophelia, his amusement faded.

Selma gave her love to her children and quickly disconnected the call. “Those are my babies,” she bragged, and then glanced back at the stunned couple.

Ophelia and Jonas inhaled the rest of their drinks and requested Benton bring them each another.

“Sounds like you two have an interesting—arrangement.”

Selma laughed. “I guess you can say that.”

“Are you and your husband—separated?” Jonas asked with unmistakable hope in his voice.

“Oh, goodness no,” Selma answered without glancing toward Solomon, and hence was oblivious to his hints to lie.

“Well, different strokes for different folks, I always say. We’re not here to judge.” Ophelia wondered if her words sounded as hollow to everyone else as they did to her. “Maybe I should go check with Raul and see how much longer dinner is going to be.”

“I’ll come with you,” Jonas said.

Together they escaped the room as if the devil nipped at their heels.