Written By Fate (12 page)

“Mmmhmm,” I sigh and watch his amazing naked body saunter to
the bathroom for a shower. I grab my phone and check my messages.

Amanda: Are you ok?

Marg: Dom the Dominator huh? I was hot just watching you two
dance!

I text Amanda and Marg back letting them know what's up and
that I’m the worst friend ever for missing almost all of girls’ weekend and
decide to leave it that.

Weddings & Lies

Pulling up to the chapel, I’m a bundle of nerves. Dom holds
my hand and rubs his thumb soothingly over my knuckles, but it does little to
calm me. “Will this make the news?” My voice cracks a little, giving away my
fear.

“It may. The society pages eat this stuff up.”

“I can't do this,” I breathe.

“Clara, relax. It’s just a wedding. You look stunning and I’ve
instructed my publicist to keep your photo from appearing in print.”

“Easier said than done,” I mutter. Exiting the limo, Dom
escorts me inside. The chapel is lavishly decorated, flowers are bursting
everywhere and everyone is dressed like they’re attending the Grammys. Dom’s
hand guides me by the small of my back through the crowd to our pew. I scan
every face that passes us, looking for recognition, but find none and start to
relax. Dom’s cousin Henry stands at the front of the church looking excited and
dapper in his tux. When Dom had come into the bathroom to fetch me he took my
breath away. His tuxedo, tailored just for him, fit perfectly and the smile
he’d beamed at me was dazzling. Within a few moments the chatter quiets and the
music starts.

Six bridesmaids in stunning navy gowns gracefully float down
the aisle before the bride makes her last walk as a single lady. Her dress is
amazing and clings to her figure and I wonder if I’ve ever witnessed such a
beautiful person before. Their vows start and end and as the preacher says,
“You may kiss the bride,” Henry lifts her veil and kisses her passionately.
Flashes go off and people clap and holler as they make their way down the aisle
as husband and wife. As the couple passes us I get a clear look at her face and
for a moment think she looks vaguely familiar. The feeling and sensation passes
as quickly as it came on and I convince myself I’m being paranoid.

We reach the reception thirty minutes later. Dom introduces
me to his parents--who couldn't care less about making my no-name acquaintance--his
aunt and uncle and some other business associates. Slipping into a role I
thought I’d long forgotten, I schmooze along with him, speaking when spoken to,
and providing a pleasing view for his friends. My shoulders ache from holding
my posture so rigid for the last hour. Dom hands a glass of wine to me and
whispers in my ear, “Just be yourself.” I smirk at his comment as I throw my
head back and let entire glass of wine rush down my throat.

“Easy, Clara,” he warns.

“I just needed to take the edge off,” I claim.

We sit at a table with some friends of his from Princeton
for the four-course dinner, and like the other three women at the table I say
little as the men dominate the conversation with business chatter. People stop
by to chat with Dom here and there and I don’t miss the snotty looks I get. One
woman even made a crack about how trashy tattoos were, having clearly seen I
had one. I’d opened my mouth to give her a piece of my mind but then snapped it
shut, not wanting to embarrass Dom who ignored the comment. By the time the
music started I was more than ready for a break and practically begged Dominic
to dance with me. That's another thing--I was instructed to not call him Dom
tonight. It had irked me but I had acquiesced, slipping only once at the
beginning of the evening. He takes my hand gently and leads me to the dance
floor as a traditional waltz starts. I place my arm on his bicep as his hand
comes to the small of my back. My other hand rests in his and he looks
surprised that I know what to do. He glides us effortlessly around the floor
and the steps rush back to me, making it easy to keep up. His grin screams
pride as he looks at me but all I feel is fake. Being here in this situation,
on his arm, is stressful for me. It’s a minor glimpse into the future if we
were to have one and it makes me sad because I know wholeheartedly that I hate
this kind of scene.

Of course I can act the part, and pretty damn well for being
out of the game for nine years, but it leaves a sick feeling in the pit of my
stomach; this isn't me. We continue dancing to the next song which calls for
the fox trot and as it comes to a close Dom’s eyes cloud over when he looks at
me.

“What's wrong?” he asks, clearly perplexed. I sigh and shake
my head.

“Nothing. Everything’s wonderful.”

Apparently he can see right through my mask. He frowns at me
and leads us off the dance floor. He gets me another glass of wine and we sit
at our table with our drinks and chat quietly.

“You look miserable, Clara,” he states.

“I...it's not you. It's this,” I say, looking around the
grand ballroom. “I have to be someone else...pretend...be fake. And honestly it
makes me ill. This isn't who I am,” I explain. He holds my gaze as he digests
my words.

“I didn't realize it affected you so much. You blend right
in.”

I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not but I let it go.

“I had training and practice,” I say in a deadpan tone.

“Yes. Apparently,” he grimaces. The band plays a more
popular slow song. “Care to dance, Ms. Lord?” He extends his hand to me. I nod,
take his hand, and follow him gracefully to the dance floor again. Holding me
close, I rest my head on his chest and let him move us languidly around the
dance floor. This is nice. This is real. He holds me possessively and brushes
his thumb back and forth at the base of my spine. I sigh with contentment at
our fleeting moment of truth amid all the lies surrounding us.

“One more,” I whisper at the start of the next song. He
squeezes me tight.

“Anything for my, Clara.” I smile into his chest at the
endearment and enjoy the dance.

“Can I get you something else?” he asks on our way back to
the table. I nod and release his hand so he can go to the bar. Collapsing into
my seat rather ungracefully, I blow out a breath, sending my bangs flying. Dominic
appears, drink in hand, moments later as a small crowd of guests shuffles by.

“Jade? Jade McQueen, is that you?” The bride herself stops
and scrutinizes my face in disbelief. My heart pounds frantically in my chest,
so loud I’m sure they can hear it, as I stare up at Alexandria Macworth in
horror. Unable to form words, I remain seated and silent as she stares at me,
wide-eyed.

“Daniel! Daniel dear, come here!” she shouts through the
crowd. My blood runs cold as his name leaves her lips. How could I have
forgotten her? We'd met at a Harvard mixer when Daniel and I first began
dating. My survival instinct kicks in and without hesitation I stand from my
seat, preparing to leave, causing as little damage as possible.

“Alexandria, you're stunning. I hate to run but I must
leave.” I don't even sound like myself as the words exit my mouth. Alexandria
stares, gaping at my rudeness. Dominic stands next to me looking completely
befuddled and worried and I know what I’m about to do is going to piss him off
royally.

“Dominic. It’s been lovely,” I say and kiss his cheek. I
turn to exit, prepared to sprint if necessary, and get three steps away before
he snags my arm. Spinning around I hiss at him: “Let me go.”

I watch as Daniel arrives at Alexandria’s side. His eyes bug
out when she says my name and he moves to peer around Dominic. It’s too late to
run so I step into Dominic’s arms and bury my face in his neck. I can't stop
the shaking and I’m on the verge of hyperventilating. “Dom, please get me out
of here,” I plead wildly. Daniel claps Dom on the back.

“Dominic, who’s your date?”

My body shudders involuntarily at the sound of his voice
before I go rigid. Sensing my fear, Dom’s arms wrap around me protectively and
I bury my face deeper into his neck and squeeze myself tightly to him wishing I
could literally morph into his body to disappear.

“Daniel,” he greets. “I’m sorry but I think Ms. Lord’s had
too much to drink. I should get her home.” Gallantly scooping me into his arms
bridal style, he carries me outside, only setting me down to call the car. I
remain face-planted in his chest and quiet.

“We're alone, Clara.” His tone has an edge to it.

Reluctantly I pull away and look up at him. “Care to
explain?” he asks, irritated.

My shoulders slump as I exhale. One night in his world and
my carefully crafted life is about to shatter at my feet. “Not really,” I reply
as the adrenaline of seeing Daniel dissipates and tears begin streaming down my
impeccably made-up face.

By the time we're in the car I'm sobbing uncontrollably. Dom
sits in silence next to me, waiting for answers, when all I want are his arms
to comfort me. I get no comfort though. I embarrassed him in front of his
peers; I know the game he plays and being embarrassed is a definite strike.
Gathering myself up, I wipe my eyes dry and look at him. His jaw is taut and
his teeth are clenched. I sigh, realizing that no matter how much I want him to
be different, he's not. He may be kinder than Daniel but beyond that their
breeding dictates their actions. It’s ingrained in them.

“Driver. Please bring me to the airport,” I call through the
intercom.

“Clara!” Dom barks.

I sniffle and wipe my eyes. “I need to get home,” I plead
quietly. He stares at me a long while.

“We’ll take my plane,” Dom says softly and touches my knee.
It doesn't feel good or special anymore. I’m too tired to argue so I nod in
agreement and stare out the window.

“We’re here.” I’m gently shaken awake. Rubbing my eyes, I
sit up and stretch. I follow Dom’s lead, exiting the plane and hop into the
waiting car. The second the driver pulls onto the road I drift back to sleep,
completely drained. The smell of bacon wakes me up. I’m in my bed at home. I
have no recollection of getting here but I am and I’m alone. I breathe a sigh
of relief at the familiar surroundings and hop out of bed to find Sawyer.

“What happened?” Sawyer growls in the kitchen.

“She came to a wedding with me, the bride recognized her and
called her Jade McQueen.” Dom’s voice fills the kitchen. Shit. Shit, shit,
shit.

“So?” Sawyer sounds pissed but curious.

“She flipped out. The bride seemed sure though and called
over our friend Daniel, I assume because he knew her as well. I’ve never
smelled fear before but I understand the saying now. Clara was terrified of
him. She clung to me like a two-year-old.”

I peek around the corner. Sawyer’s jaw is clenched, his
knuckles white as he grips the countertop.

“Daniel who?” he grits out. This is bad.

“Daniel Hollingsworth. Why?”

“God dammit!” Sawyer roars. Allie sneaks up behind me and
pokes my back, making me jump.

“Alliecat. Hi. Morning, love,” I squeeze her to me.

“Why’s Sawyer yelling?” she asks curiously.

“Don’t worry about it, babe. It’s okay,” I soothe as we step
around the corner into the kitchen. Both men eye me carefully. “Morning boys,”
I greet them.

“Alliecat, breakfast's ready,” Sawyer says and calms himself,
knowing the conversation's over, what with Allie here. The tension in the room
is suffocating though and I’m sure Allie notices.

“Mr. Napoli! Hi!” Allie squeals, noticing him. He chuckles
and wishes her a good morning. Dom looks tired. I wonder if he slept at all
last night and where he slept. Sawyer moves around the counter and tugs my arm,
wanting me to follow him.

“Allie, come eat with me,” Dom offers and Allie is all too
happy to oblige. I follow Sawyer to my room and shut the door.

“Did he see you?” The vein in Sawyers neck is bulging and I
can’t stop looking at it.

“I don’t think so,” I admit.

“Damnit Clara!” he barks.

“I know! I’m sorry.” And I am. I let my guard down in a
momentary lapse of judgment and it almost ruined everything. Everything.

“You went to a wedding with him?” He changes the subject,
looking like I just killed his puppy.

“Yes,” I answer so quietly I can barely hear it myself. He
shakes his head and his expression turns hard.

“I can’t do this,” he says and my panic flares at his tone.

“Do what Sawyer?” I push, hoping he isn’t about to say what
I know he is.

“This....” he gestures between us. “You and me. I love you,
Clara. I know you know. Every time things get good for us you stomp all over
it. My heart...” His voice cracks and I want to reach out and comfort him but I
don't. “It can’t take it anymore. You’re either all in or out completely.
Choose. I’ve let you string me along for years and it has to stop.” His tone
has finality to it like I’ve never heard before and it scares me. I can’t lose
him. It would crush me. It would crush Allie. How am I supposed to choose
between these men? Sawyer is my family and I do love him but Dominic consumes
my heart in ways Sawyer can't and I don’t know why yet. I need them both but I
don't know how to stop this tug of war in my heart.

“I’m all in Sawyer,” I blurt before I can think better of
it.

“All in huh?” Dom’s voice is low and full of disappointment.
My heart cracks in my chest and freezes, refusing to pump. “Dom,” I croak, my
eyes pleading with his to understand.

“Enough.” He holds a hand up, silencing me. “I’m done,” he
murmurs before stepping into the hall and disappearing. Sawyer stares at me,
waiting for my reaction but I won't let there be one. I have to let Dominic
Napoli go, it’s the only logical choice. I wait until Sawyer leaves the room to
break down and I do it quietly so he won’t hear me.