It's Only Make Believe (10 page)

“Good.” He put the car in gear and reached over to take her hand. “Okay, tell me about Louise and Mark. What’s your plan?”

“I don’t have a plan, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Sarah told Mark I’d try to help. Honestly, Brad, I’m at a loss. I can’t for the life of me understand why our parents even hired her. Not that I mind. I’m not like the rest of these society prigs. But, I still don’t understand it...” She laughed at the thought of her mother and mother-in-law going against the grain.

“There had to be an ulterior motive. Maybe they thought my business would fail. Anyway, I don’t know what to do to help them.”

Brad remained quiet. Michele worried she had pegged him wrong. No, he couldn’t possibly agree with them. He wasn’t like that.

“This is going to take some thought, and right now there’s only one thing on my mind.” His wicked grin sent shivers up her spine as he pulled into their drive. He helped her out of the car and took her in his arms. The passionate kiss sent such a thrill through her that her knees went weak.

“We better go in.” She whispered, afraid of her own voice.

He put his arm around her and led her into the house. By then the situation struck a chord of humor in her, and she giggled like a schoolgirl. Apparently, the mood was contagious, and Brad giggled right along with her. They hurried into the house and began the long climb to the second floor, giggling and laughing like school kids. Michele caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Anna came out of the kitchen. The look on her face spoke volumes. She approved of their afternoon tryst.

Michele took over the lead and opened the door to their bedroom, a teasing look in her eyes. She pulled him along and removed his tie, enticing him to follow her into the room.

He pulled her to him, kissing her neck, her chin and finally coming to rest on her lips. A gasp from the bathroom made them pull apart. Louise stood in the doorway, her face flaming, eyes lowered.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled and hurried past them. Michele and Brad burst out laughing as they moved aside so she could pass.

They spent the better part of the afternoon making love. Michele rolled over and, resting her head on her hand, looked at Brad. How much in love she felt. She stared down at her husband’s long lashes covering his closed eyes. She stroked his head, circling his face with her finger.

He grabbed her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it, igniting renewed sparks in her. She wrapped her arms around him, enjoying their warmth and security his offered. In his arms, she knew their marriage could work, all doubts faded. The phone rang.

“Damn!” He sat up pulling the sheet with him as he moved his legs over his side of the bed. Michele wished he would let it ring, or let Louise answer it, but she knew better. He had told Louise and Anna he’d answer the phone whenever he was home. He picked up the receiver.

“Hello,” he barked into the phone. Michele smiled at his tone. “Mother!” He stood, pulling the sheet with him, rolled his eyes and grinned at Michele.

Michele got up and went to the shower, smiling at the way he looked - so boyish as if his mother caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. Her mood lighter, until she remembered Brad was leaving again. How, she wondered, was she supposed to build a marriage with a husband who was never home? 

Brad joined her in the shower, startling her. She leaned against him as he kissed her neck, letting the water run over their bodies. He soaped her up and washed her hair. She luxuriated in the sensuality of the moment. He turned her toward him, took her in his arms, pressed his body against hers, and kissed her.

“I hate to break this up, but I have a plane to catch. I’ll be home in a day or two, I promise. When I get back we’ll figure out a plan for Louise and Mark.” He got out of the shower, leaving her disappointed and empty.

She snapped off the water and followed him. She grabbed her towel and wrapped herself in it. “Brad...”

He stopped drying himself and looked at her. “Michele, I ...”

They stared at each other, Michele begging him with her eyes not to go, willing him to stay, yet knowing he had to leave. It was his job.

“Do you think we could go furniture shopping when you come back?” It wasn’t what she wanted to say. She wanted to ask about Ruby, wanted to tell him she loved him, wanted him, wanted their marriage to work. 

“Furniture shopping?” Laughter sparkled in his eyes. “You want me to go furniture shopping with you? Sure, why not it might be fun.” He shrugged and left the bathroom.

Michele finished drying off and by time she came into the bedroom, Brad was dressed and packing a bag. Her breath caught at the sight, and her pulse quickened. It was an all too familiar sight in their marriage. She walked toward him, throwing caution to the wind. She turned him toward her and pulled him against her letting the towel fall between them. She looked into his eyes, her body smoldering. A wicked gleam entered his eyes as he scanned her body.

He put his hands on her shoulders, kissed her cheek, as if he were afraid to do more. “I have to leave. You have no idea how it pains me to do so.” He turned her toward the closet, gave her a little push and swatted her behind. Hurry and get dressed, I’ll take you back to your car.”

Later, she arrived back home just as Louise was getting ready to leave. “Louise, I’m glad I caught you, I want to talk to you.”

Louise held Mikayla and lowered her eyes. “Yes, Miss.”

Michele walked toward the kitchen. “Come in here, would you like a cup of coffee, soda?” She took a cup out of the cupboard and poured coffee. “Anna, something smells delicious.” The aroma of roast chicken filled the air.

“No thank you, Miss.”  Louise’s voice was little more than a whisper.

Michele took her coffee to the table and motioned for Louise to take a seat. “Louise...” Michele wasn’t sure where or how to start. She looked at the frightened girl and felt an overwhelming sense of compassion. “Louise, for starters, please quit calling me Miss. I’m Michele, okay?” She hoped her smile reassured the girl, but could tell from Louise’s face she felt uncomfortable. “Okay, skip that, Miss will be fine. Louise, I want to help you. Mr. Lawson and I both do.” Shock registered on Louise’s face. “When he comes home we’re going to figure something out for you and Mark. In the meantime do you have enough money, do you need anything?”

“No, Miss, I’m fine. Mark provides for me and the baby and the job here helps.” Tears filled Louise’s eyes as she spoke. “But I don’t understand, what can you and Mr. Lawson do? Mark’s parents will never consent to our marriage and Mark won’t go against them. Even if he would I won’t.”

“I’m not sure.” Michele stood. She didn’t want to detain Louise any longer than necessary. The girl wiggled her foot. Any more nervous and she’d jump off her chair.  Obviously, she wished the conversation was over.

After Louise left and Michele finished dinner, she took her coffee into the living room, curled up in a chair and picked up a book. Laying the book across her lap, she tried to formulate a plan. There had to be a way, maybe if she appealed to Jane O’Neil. Surely, a mother’s love for her son took precedence over social status. After all, wasn’t it the most important thing a mother wished was for her children - to be happy. Mikayla was her granddaughter, what mother could give that up?

Right like her mother cared about her happiness. And Brad’s mother didn’t care either when they insisted on this marriage? Even her grandmother didn’t care and hadn’t their grandparents forced their own children into arranged marriages. Social standing meant everything to these people. She stood and wandered around the room, moving things from here to there. Things purchased by either her mother or Brad’s. Things no one cared if either she or Brad liked, decorating the house to suit their own tastes and flair. Surely, her mother knew her better than that. Didn’t she? Didn’t her mother ever listen, or pay attention?

Maybe Jane wouldn’t care about her son’s happiness either. Standing in the society came first. The ‘right’ marriage to the ‘right’ person. If love happened to come with it, then good for them, if not oh well, all they asked for was discretion. Michele shivered at her own thoughts. She wanted more than discretion from Brad. She wanted faithfulness. Wanted love. The vision of Ruby’s face entered her thoughts, and she tried to push it away.

Ruby had been waiting for Brad when they arrived at Michele’s car. After throwing a victorious look toward Michele, she leaned over and kissed Brad’s cheek. And he didn’t seem to mind. The picture brought tears to Michele’s eyes even now. Fresh from her bed, he had looked so happy to see Ruby. Something Ruby said had made him laugh. The last thing Michele remembered was Brad throwing his head back in laughter and Ruby’s smug smile and nod. She’d been so hurt and angry that she threw her car in gear and sped off, peeling rubber.

She stood squeezing a small gaudy abstract sculpture she’d picked up off the mantle. Turning it over in her hand, she tried to figure out what it represented. Unsure of its purpose, she set it down and picked it up again. Whatever it was it had to go. In fact, everything had to go. She went in search of boxes. It was time to pack this stuff up and get rid of it. Surely Brad didn’t hold an attachment to any of it. He probably never looked at any of it. Just in case the garage would be a good place to store it. She found some boxes in the storage room and began packing up all the gaudy knick-knacks that the decorator had placed in strategic locations about the room. Though expensive, it wasn’t her taste and she seldom recommended them to her clients. Unless they insisted, but so far she’d been fortunate not to have one that didn’t like what she suggested. It was important, however, to bring the owner’s taste into their residence. Otherwise, she wouldn’t get many referrals. Making sure the owner’s taste reflected in the rooms was important.

When she finished the living room, she went into the dining room, den and library. The only item she kept was a brass kaleidoscope on a stand. She moved it from the den to the fireplace in the library. After taping and marking the boxes, she stacked them in the corner of the garage.

Satisfied, she picked up her book again and spent the remainder of the evening reading. The phone rang about midnight, jolting her out of the trance of the novel. Stretching, she looked at the clock and picked up the phone. Brad’s voice on the other end cheered her, and heat burned her cheeks as memory of their unexpected afternoon returned to her. His voice was low, sexy.

“Hey, I just happened to think about this afternoon and had the irresistible urge to talk to you. I didn’t wake you did I?”

“Hmm, no, you didn’t wake me.” Michele leaned back in the chair. Just the sound of his voice sent her insides reeling. “When are you coming home?” Dare she tell him she missed him? No better to leave it unsaid. She could tell he’d been drinking, though not drunk.

“I have a late business meeting, but just wanted to call and say hello.”

“Come on, Brad, we’re going to be late. Edgehurst insists on promptness.”

Michele sat forward in her chair at the sound of Ruby’s husky voice in the background. Her voice in Brad’s room destroyed the mood. Ruby was always there, ready to surface, ready to remind her she was with Brad. She’d spent more time with Brad since they were married than Michele did, and Michele resented it.

“I have to go, Edgehurst is waiting, and we can’t have that. I’ll be home tomorrow, and we’ll talk about that little problem, okay?” Brad’s voice changed.

Her own disappointment must have showed through her tone when she said okay because Brad’s voice reflected something like annoyance when he said goodbye. So ended an almost perfect day. She decided to go to bed, not that there was much hope of sleeping with visions of Ruby and Brad playing in her mind.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The next morning, Michele awoke earlier than normal. Stretching her arms, she sat on the side of the bed. Only seven o’clock, why was she awake so early? After going to the bathroom, she decided to lie back down. Hugging the pillow to her, she thought of Brad and their afternoon of lovemaking. He was a passionate, considerate lover, and she hugged the pillow tighter, remembering the abandon with which they made love. She closed her eyes and fell back to sleep, content. She imagined the warmth of his arms around her as she held the pillow close. The alarm woke her an hour later from her dream. She sat up smiling. Somehow, she was going to make this marriage work.

After her shower, she went down to breakfast. Anna stood at the stove flipping an omelet. The smell of fresh brewed coffee mingled with onions and green pepper made her mouth water. She poured her coffee and carried it to the table when the door suddenly burst open. Louise stood framed in the doorway, her brow scrunched. She held a piece of paper. “Louise, what’s wrong?” Michele immediately thought of the baby, but the anger Louise displayed couldn’t possibly have anything to do with the child.

“Miss, I...” Tears filled Louise’s eyes when she tried to talk. She held the paper out to her.

Michele took it and saw the O’Neil family crest on the top of the letterhead. She read the letter to herself than aloud, so disbelieving its content.

“Dear Miss Ramerez,” Michele read. “I am aware you have not severed your relationship with my son. I wish to inform you that if you continue this relationship I will have you brought up on charges of harassment. Your continued residence in this area, and working for a prominent family, is an embarrassment to us.