A Wife for Stephen (3 page)

“Man, can you
believe how beautiful Celeste is? I have
never seen anyone with that much beauty,” Stephen says,
singing Celeste’s praises.

“Well, I think Jenny is the bomb.
Her
eyes
are
entrancing. A man could get lost in eyes so wide and
revealing. I think she likes me, man,” says Mario.

“All right, all right, already. You
two sound pathetic,”
Jeffrey says, joining the conversation. “Stephen, I think you
have
undoubtedly
met
your
match
this
evening.
That
Celeste has spunk. I bet you my car that you don’t even get
her phone number. Mario, on the other hand, I think Jenny
is an easy game.”

Mario.
“And, as for Celeste,” Stephen says, growing bored with
the conversation, “You might want to reconsider that bet
you just placed on the table. I plan on getting a lot more
than just her phone number by the time this evening is over.
I plan...”
Before he could state his intentions, Jeffrey interjects
with a massive laugh and his hand in the air waiting for
Stephen to give him a high five, “I know exactly what you
plan. You certainly had me going there. For a while I
actually believed all that crap you were spouting about
wanting to find a wife and settle down. You sly dog you. I
bet if you tell that to Celeste it just might work. Maybe I
should
reconsider that bet after all.”
Stephen feels like he has to settle this argument once
and for all. “Look Jeffrey,” Stephen began, “And I’m really
serious here. You should reconsider that bet but not for the
reasons you are thinking. I meant everything I said about
wanting to find a wife and settle down. And
I WILL
,” he
continues, putting emphasis in his voice, “get more from
Celeste before this evening is over.
Tonight
she will agree
to be Mrs. Haule. And if I were you, I would watch what
you say about my future bride.”
With the finality of Stephen’s last statement, all that
Mario and Jeffrey can do is look back and forth between
themselves and Stephen. While Mario and Jeffrey stand
staring at one another, not quite knowing what to make of
Stephen’s new attitude, Stephen wonders what to make of
Celeste’s attitude.
Celeste had held his attention since he first saw her. She
didn’t seem like the money grubbing or push over type he
use to get his way with, except for the comment she made
about Jenny knowing how she is with her car. Stephen only
hopes that she isn’t a materialistic woman.
Not that Stephen can’t afford to buy her anything she
wants, he only prefers that the woman he marry will take
pleasure from the little things in life. Such things as a
private joke shared only between the two of them, romantic
candle lit dinners, holding hands, and the love of family.
Stephen wants the whole package and not just pieces of his
dream to come true.

It only takes ten minutes for Jenny and Celeste to reach
Celeste’s
vehicle
because
there
is
no
longer
a
crowd
waiting outside
the
back stage
curtain
trying to
gain
entrance. We’re on our way to the after party now, Celeste
thinks
to
herself.
Short
of standing them up,
there is
nothing Celeste could do but put in an appearance. She
resides to herself that she won’t stay long. Her plan - an
hour or so after they arrive, Stephen will be so bored with
her not drooling over the lavish lifestyle that he would be
flaunting in front of her face that he would be happy to see
her go, and she would then take her exit.

“I can’t believe how you were
acting in there, Jenny!”
exclaims
Celeste
as
they
finally
make it to Celeste’s
midnight blue BMW,
“You were acting like a love starved
teenager.”

“Well I can’t
believe
how you were
acting either,
Celeste. Although, for different reasons. You might as well
have thrown yourself down on the floor and started kicking
and screaming like a two year old having a temper tantrum
‘I don’t wanna go with the mean man, mommy!’” Jenny
acts out.

“A two year old having a temper tantrum?” Celeste
questions. “So, just because I think it would be a waste of
time to spend it in the company of three grown men who
act as if they have no more control over their hormones
than a lustful teenage boy, you accuse me of behaving like
a toddler?”

“No, because you have prejudged them on
the basis of
what?” asks Jenny.
Celeste takes a moment to think about Jenny’s word
before commenting. “Yeah, maybe I have prejudged them,
but I have seen their type before. They have lots of money
to spend, and they enjoy flaunting it in front of any woman
who’s naive enough to be impressed by it. But I have given
my word that I will go with you to this after party and you
know I never break my...”
“Of course. Everyone knows that the honorable Celeste
never
backs
down
once
she
gives
her
word,” Jenny
interrupts.
“So I will go,” Celeste continues as though she had not
been interrupted by Jenny’s smart mouthed comment, “But
don’t expect me to fall all over myself trying to get their
attention. And I hope that you don’t embarrass either
myself or you trying to get them to pay attention to you.
Let’s just make the most of it.”
Jenny and Celeste remain silent for the rest of the drive
except for the directions that Jenny reads from the sheet of
paper on which Stephen had written for them. Traffic is a
little
heavier
than it
usually is
for
a
Sunday night
in
downtown Los Angeles. Celeste suspects the reason to be
that most people are on their way to the after party.
As they make the last right which will take them to the
club, they notice the crowd of people that stand in front of
the door waiting to gain entrance to the prestigious club.
“Listen, Jenny. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or
anything. I just don’t want to see these guys hurt you. I
apologize for not saying it a little kinder,” says Celeste,
feeling rather lousy about her friend’s quietness. Jenny is a
talker. The only time she doesn’t talk is when something is
wrong. She even talks in her sleep.
“I know, Celeste. I’m not mad at you. I know you mean
well. I just want to have a good time. If we wanted lectures
we would have gone out with our mothers,” says Jenny,
making an attempt to lighten the mood. “No more lectures.
OK?”
“OK. I give you my word. No more lectures.”
“OK,” echoes Jenny.
Having things settled between Jenny and herself makes
Celeste feel a lot better. When Celeste stops the car in front
of the
club,
she
is
greeted by a
valet
attendant
who
patiently waits for her to unlock the door and retrieve her
purse
from the
floor
of the
back seat.
The attendant
gingerly helps Celeste from the car while another attendant
helps Jenny. After sticking her valet card into her purse,
Celeste and Jenny head for the valet booth.
“Excuse me,” says Jenny, “Our names are supposed to
be on the
VIP
guest list.”
“What are your names?” asks the valet attendant
looking down his nose at Jenny and Celeste.
“My name is Jenny Harris,” offers Jenny, “and this is
Celeste Brooks,” she motions towards Celeste.
After checking the list and confirming that their names
are indeed on it, the attendant says, “Of course. May I
please
verify
your
identification?” The attendant waits
patiently for Celeste and Jenny to produce their IDs.
After
scrutinizing
their
identification
extremely
thoroughly, he retrieves two bands from under the podium
he is standing behind. The bands look a lot like the ID
bands one wears while in the hospital except that these are
gold. “If you will give me your wrist, I will put these on
you, and you may enter the club,” says the attendant.
It only takes a moment for the attendant to secure the
bands on Celeste’s and Jenny’s wrists before they are
ushered towards the door. There, they show the security
guard at the door their bands and are then urged forward to
a second security guard that checks their purses.
Celeste feels like a cow that has just been stamped
‘Grade A’ and given a proverbial ‘Seal of Approval’ after
being
determined
free from ‘Mad Cows Disease’.
Apparently Celeste and Jenny have now been given a clean
bill of health and can now enter into the club.
“Man, can you believe the security in this joint?” Celeste
asks Jenny. “I still can’t believe we made it this far on that
cockamamie story that you told. I’m half expecting some of
those wrestler looking security guards over there to come
and grab us by the collar and toss us out of here.”
“Oh, relax, Celeste. Stephen and Mario want us here.
Those security people wouldn’t dare do anything to upset
them. Besides, I am here to have a good time, and I don’t
want to think negatively. Come on,” says Jenny, taking
Celeste by the wrist and pulling her toward the bar, “Let’s
get a drink and check out the dance floor.”
Celeste is surprised to see that the club is crowded
already. They have to squeeze through the crowd and push
their way toward the bar. Celeste orders a Shirley Temple
and Jenny orders one of the exotic drinks featured on the
menu. Sipping on her soda, Celeste takes a visual tour of
Four Aces
.
It
is
a
cosmopolitan
sheikh
decorated club
which
features video screens, flashing lights synchronized to the
beat of the music, and more than one dance floor. In fact, it
features three separate dance floors, which play different
types of music in each. There is a room for techno, reggae,
and hip-hop. Celeste is impressed. She wonders who the
genius is whose mind conceived the idea of catering to
three different tastes in music on the same night.
When Celeste and Jenny leave the bar to tour the club,
they come to a flight of stairs guarded by an extremely
large security guard standing in front a velvet rope at the
base of the steps. Jenny, in all of her courageousness, asks
the security guard, “What’s up there?”
The security guard eyes them both with a pondering
expression on his face before stepping aside. Moving the
rope he gestures for them to climb the steps, “Why don’t
you go on up and see for yourself. You
are
wearing
VIP
bracelets.”
“You mean, these gold bracelets,” says Celeste, holding
up her wrist on which the club’s bracelet had been placed,
“Allow us to go up those,” she continues while pointing to
the steps in question, “steps?”
“Yes,” is all the security guard says as he nods.
Jenny grabs Celeste’s arm and begins to climb the
circling staircase. “I didn’t even know there was a room up
here,” says Jenny in a voice full of excitement.
“Well, maybe we shouldn’t be up here. I mean, maybe
the valet guy made a mistake and,” before Celeste can
finish her statement her and Jenny reach the top of the
stairs and are surprised to see a lot of celebrities sitting
around chatting.

Stephen notices Celeste before she clears the top step.
He has been watching and waiting for her to ascend the
steps. Man, she has fabulous legs, he thinks to himself.
Whether she knows it or not, she is going to be my wife,
Stephen thinks to himself. But, she’s not yours yet, and
from the look of things, you have your work cut out for
you. Stephen notices that she looks terribly uncomfortable.
Thinking to
himself, he decides that
his first
order of
business is to get her to relax so that he can find out more
about her.

Standing up as
gracefully as
he
can,
he
begins
to
approach her. When he is all but a few feet from her, she
looks directly at him and her expression changes. Why, he
has no clue. All he knows is that she is no longer looking
around the room in amazement.

Play it cool, Celeste thinks to herself. You have a plan.
Have a good time. Maintain your dignity and self-respect.
And most importantly, show this man who’s the
boss
. This
word echoes around in her head as Stephen approaches
her, hand extended. Celeste instinctively reaches out to
take the hand he offers and allows him to guide her to the
table he apparently had been sitting at when she entered the
room. It offers an unobstructed view of the stairway she
and Jenny had just ascended. Celeste figures this is how he
saw her enter and knew that they had arrived.

Glancing back toward the staircase, intending to invite
Jenny to sit with them, Celeste sees Mario whisking her off
to the other side of the room. Well, you’re on your own
now Girlie, Celeste thinks to herself.

“I’m glad to see that you didn’t change your mind abo
ut
coming,” Stephen says, pulling out a chair for her, inviting
her to sit down.

“I always keep my word. In this day and age when
people can be so unreliable, I think it is extremely essential
to follow through with what you promise,” Celeste says
while Stephen takes his seat. As he pulls his chair up to the
table, he edges it closer to hers. So close that his knee
brushes hers under the table. Even though it is not skin-toskin contact, it still sends a jolt of pleasure up her leg.

“Is that so?”
Stephen asks, reaching out to take her
small delicate hand into his much larger masculine one. “I
hope that will prove to be the case. I am also a person who
believes in keeping his word,”
And I will keep my word,
Celeste
, Stephen says to himself, thinking of what he said
to the guys after Celeste and Jenny left their dressing room.

Celeste says, taking a gulp from her glass and emptying it.
“Would you care for another drink?” Stephen asks, no
longer just holding her hand but caressing it. He doesn’t
know what has come over him since meeting Celeste. He
can’t seem to keep his hands off of her. He feels as though
he has to touch her.
“Sure. I am drinking a Shirley Temple,” Celeste
whispers, barely able to hear her own voice. Stephen’s
touch is weaving a magic spell around her. She becomes
conscious of nothing but her and Stephen, together. The
slow feeling of Stephen’s thumbs caressing the back of her
hands is almost more than she can handle. She can smell
the spicy masculine scent of him which makes her want to
get closer and nestle her nose into the crook of his neck to
inhale deeply of the scent that is him. Her eyes feast on his
beauty.
His beauty?
Celeste never would have considered a man beautiful
before, but Stephen is. His jaw is impeccably chiseled in a
way that
denotes strength and determination, which is
toned down by the tenderness that she can see in his eyes.
Tenderness?
Girl, you better get a grip. This man is playing a serious
head game with you and you are falling right into his trap.
He wants you to see tenderness so that you will think that
he is sincere in whatever he says to you tonight. Don’t fall
for it.
As Stephen lifts a hand from hers to signal for the
waiter, Celeste tries to seize the opportunity and places her
hands
in
her
lap;
but
Stephen
is
not
having it.
He
steadfastly holds onto her two hands with just one of his
while he asks the waiter to bring what she has requested.
When the server turns to go carry out his duties, Stephen
asks Celeste, “Would you like to dance?”
Without waiting for her to answer he begins to rise from
his chair and pull Celeste against his body. Celeste doesn’t
want to dance with Stephen. At least not to a slow song. A
song that requires her to be held in his arms. The arms that
look strong enough to protect her from anything. Short of
causing a scene, which would be the exact opposite of
maintaining her dignity, she has no choice but to take him
up on his offer.
As they walk to the dance floor, Celeste slightly ahead
of Stephen with his hand in the small of her back, Celeste is
conscience of eyes on her. She can already imagine what
they are
thinking, ‘There’s Stephen’s latest conquest.’
Celeste is determined to prove them all wrong.
When they reach an open spot on the dance floor,
Stephen slowly turns Celeste in his arms. Stephen can’t
wait to take Celeste into his arms. He can’t help himself.
He feels like he has no choice. He needs to see if her body
will mold itself as perfectly to his as he imagines it will. It
does. Stephen believes that Celeste has been made just for
him.
Celeste decides to ask him question in order to make the
time fly by faster and get her mind of the fact that they slow
dancing together. “So,” Celeste begins but falters because
she doesn’t know what to
ask. Quickly she thinks of
something, “What are your long term plans? I mean, do
you want to perform all of your life or do you want to get
more into producing?”
“To tell you the truth,” Stephen begins, weighing his
words uncommonly carefully. “Actually, I want to be a
family man. Of course, I always want to be a part of the
music industry. I actually want to start a Christian music
label, but having a family is something that is tremendously
valuable to me. You know, a wife, a few kids, maybe even
a dog.”
“So, you want to get married?”
“Well, that is not how I planned for the question to be
asked because I wanted to be the one to ask
you
in a
romantic, more traditional way. But since the offer has
been placed on the table… I accept.”
Celeste can’t help but to smile and laugh. What an
exceptionally good way to lighten the mood, with laughter,
she thinks to herself. She gives him credit for that one.
“I’m serious. I want to marry you,” Stephen says as he
brings the dancing to halt but continues to hold Celeste
particularly closely.
Well, should I tell him that I know what kind of game he
is playing and that I am not buying it one bit? Or I can play
along allowing him to think that I am falling for it and
torpedo his load of bologna when I leave this club alone.
Smiling the grin of the Cheshire cat who has just eaten the
fattest canary she has ever seen in her entire life, she opts
for the latter, “Of course I’ll marry you, Stephen. What
date would be good for you?”
“How about this week? I have it free and clear. We’re
not touring and I planned on visiting my family back in
Philadelphia,
but I’m sure that Mom won’t
mind
me
bringing along my beautiful new wife and the future mother
of my children. So how about it?”
Man, he is good, mentioning his mother and all. Did the
women
he
usually
met
actually
fall
for
this
kind of
malarkey? Well, I’ll show him. Smiling up at him she says,
“That’ll be great. Of course I don’t have the week off from
work, but I am sure that my boss would not dream of
interfering with the
wedding plans
of the
future Mrs.
Stephen Haule.”