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Authors: Elizabeth Lowe

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Barely
able to contain her animosity, Bernie’s emotions leaped into first gear scoring
a frown across her forehead, lengthening her nails, and tugging at the toe of
her pump that was tapping wildly.
 
Like
an alley cat, she wanted to scratch Sam's eyes out.
 
Who did the little twit think she was,
invading her territory?
 

 

           
Sensing
flint-striking stone, Brad’s arm snaking around Bernie's waist pulled her
against him.
 
For her ears only he
warned, “You're my girl, remember, Bernie?
 
Chill out.”
 

Eyes focused only on Sam, Brad
interrupted, “Excuse us.”
 

Moving away from Sam, “No problem,”
Ted replied.
 
“We were just getting
reacquainted.
 
Sam, you've already met
Brad and this is his girlfriend Bernie.”

           

While Sam closed the
distance graciously intending to shake the stranger’s hand, Bernie's hazel eyes
hurled invisible darts in Ted's direction.
 
“Pleased to meet you,” Sam’s pleasant greeting.
 

 

           
Bernie's
eyes flicked to Brad confirming Sam's suspicions as to where the woman's main
interest lay.
 
A quick assessment of mossy
brown hair and a face excessively made up said Bernie certainly was not the
type Sam expected to attract Brad's interest.
 
Obviously, it was her curvaceous figure that was impossible to ignore
clad in a mini crimson dress that clung to a well-toned body.
 
Her abundant upper portions barely covered by
the plunging bodice.
 
When Sam’s eyes
found the red pumps she imagined the skimpy lingerie' and had to stifle a
snicker, suddenly a horrifying foreign emotion flashed high inside that changed
her expression radically, jealousy.

Contemplating the satisfaction of
boiling Sam in oil, Bernie refused to shake her hand until Brad pinched her
backside so hard a scream almost escaped from full painted lips.
  

 

           
Forcing
an exaggerated smile that exposed her clenched, grinding, vixen-sharp teeth,
Bernie blurted, “It's a pleasure, Sam.”
 
Of course, she was lying.
 
Unable
to resist needling her opponent further, she added, “Your name is quite
unusual, then again we're not used to “cowgirls” here in New York.”

Slight malice sharpened Brad's black
eyes.
 
His finger pads biting into
Bernie’s arm tugged her away from Sam.
 
“Say goodbye, doll face.”

Pure revenge made Bernie persist with
an unmistakable fake, sweet voice, “I hope to see you again, Sam.
 
That is if you survive city living.”

           

           
Puzzled
by Bernice's hostility and annoyed by her attitude, Sam was not about to allow
her the upper hand.
 
With a sprightly
voice and considerable energy, she responded, “Why, that depends on Ted.
 
You see, he has invited me to stay with him
and Brad indefinitely.
 
In fact, I’m
considering moving to New York permanently.
 
I'm sure we'll be seeing each other frequently.”
 

Shock froze Brad’s features.

Bernie's face took on
the color of her dress.
 
Holding clenched
fists at her side, she screamed inwardly, “Over my dead body, bitch.”

 

           
Brad swore he heard the hissing of
two alley cats.
 
Grabbing the back of
Bernie's neck, fingers applying pressure, he kissed away what he knew would be
a smart-ass remark, ending it with a nip on her lower lip as a warning.
 
Though he accented each word, surprisingly
Brad mustered a display of cool resolve.
 
“Bernie has an appointment, don't you, sweetheart?
 
She has to leave, but I am sure she'd love to
take you shopping one day.
 
Wouldn't you,
darling?”

Achieving great
pleasure from grinding the heel of her pump firmly into Brad's bare foot,
Bernie coolly replied, “Why of course, sweet cakes.”

 

           
“Ouch, you little . . . “There was a
sharp blade edge to Brad's smile that expressed caution.
 
“Excuse us won't you,” he said, swiftly
dragging Bernie to the door.
 
Opening it,
he shoved her into the hall, and before slamming it added, “Goodbye, doll
face.”

Wearing a smile that
miraculously softened his haughty expression, Brad faced his attentive audience
and excused himself.

Unable to contain
himself any longer, Ted burst into hysterics.
 

 

           
Mouth sprung wide, with bulging
eyes, Sam looked on in total bewilderment.
 
Cosmopolitan relationships were peculiar to say the least, she
concluded.
  
Well, no man would ever treat
her in such a manner, especially Brad Johnson.
 
Just maybe Ted’s stories were true after all.
                                                             

 

           
Placing his hands on her shoulders,
Ted turned Sam to face him.
 
“Why didn't
you tell me you were coming, darling?
 
I
wanted to treat you like royalty.”

”I wanted to surprise
you.
 
You should know by now I can take
care of myself.”

Sam's naivety struck
a nerve. “New York is a space age away from Wyoming, beauty, and innocence
written all over you translate into prime target here.”

 

           
Well aware of Ted's chauvinistic
side, though it went against her grain, Sam decided for now not to press
him.
 
Calling upon a sweet dissolving
smile, she answered, “I'm sorry, darling.
 
I promise to be careful in the future.”

 

           
“You're damn right you will.
 
I'm not allowing you out of my sight.”
Pulling her against him, Ted's unexpected kiss turned unusually rough and
possessive.
  
Appalled by his behavior
Sam fought for composure.
 
No one ever
treated her like a child, a possession, no one.

Meeting her
resistance with increased passion, Ted stopped briefly to say, “I want you to
stay here with me, share my room.”

 

           
Feeling like an ornament for his
bed, Sam shoved at his chest.
 
Storming toward
the door, she snatched her suitcase.
 
“I'm no decoration for anybody's bed.
  
I will decide with whom I‘ll have sex, where and when.
 
I was mistaken for believing there was
something between us.
 
I will do just
fine on my own.
 
Good-bye, Ted.”

 

           
In a flash, Ted's body blocked the
door.
 
Gazes locked.
 
With mixed feelings of rejection and blazing
desire inundating him, he yanked the suitcase from her hand.
 
Though unaccustomed to having someone decline
his charms, Ted had to admit for such a little minx Sam was an admirable
spitfire.
 
How much longer he could take
the ache between his legs, he did not know, but something told him she would be
well worth the wait.
 
All he had to do
was modify his seduction plans.
 
“I'm
sorry, darling.
 
Forgive me, whatever you
want.
 
I have missed you terribly.
 
If you want to wait, that is fine. You can
have my room.
 
I will not push you.
 
Honest!”

 

           
Seriousness molded Sam's face.
 
“I don't know, Ted.
 
You make me feel like I'm just another
“Barbie doll” to add to your collection.
 
I want things to be special between us, different.
 
Can you understand that?”

 

           
Frustrated, Ted want to scream,
“No!
 
I don't.”
 
This was the twenty first century, for Christ
sake.
 
What woman today wanted to hang on
to their virginity?
  
Sam just did not
know what she was missing, but for now, he would humor her.

 

           
“Completely, darling,” bending down,
he brushed her lips slightly with his. “Come with me.
 
I'll show you around the apartment then you
can freshen up while I call the maid to prepare my room for you.”

 

           
As Ted escorted Sam down the hall,
he almost laughed aloud at the thought of Brad's reactions to their new living
arrangements.
 
He would have if reality
had not made Ted suddenly aware the end had come to their convenient love nest
upon Sam's arrival.
 

 

 
 

CHAPTER 8

 
 

“SEPTEMBER 2010”

 

           
Shaved
to perfection, Brad splashed on cologne. Natural waves and curls rarely obeyed
as he groomed each strand until not one was out of place.
   
A burgundy and black tie complimenting a
pink shirt gave life to his ebony, pinned stripped suit tailor made from the
finest materials.
 
Adding imported
Italian loafers, he appeared the epitome of flawlessness, the opinion of
everyone drawn to his manifestation.

 

           
There
was little doubt Brad was the genius, Ted the charmer, a unique pair recently
featured on the cover of US Magazine naming them the most successful, eligible
business magnates of the decade, a team who possessed the credentials necessary
for prosperity in the corporate world of today.
 

 

           
 
If they could not sway business associates by
intelligently delivered proposals, charts and graphs, easily enlisted were
their wives and daughters.
 
Conducting
business in such a manner plagued Brad with guilt.
  
Ted’s continuous lectures ultimately
convinced him that it was a “dog eats dog” world where anything goes, and, it
did.

 

           
During
the past ten years, Peterson and Johnson blossomed into a respected force in
the business world setting standards envied by influential businesspersons
World Wide.
 
The mastermind of the
business each passing year increased Brad’s discontent while Ted thrived on the
social scene. Over the past months he‘d worked from sunrise to sunset putting
the finishing touches on numerous investment projections only to have Ted receive
the accolades on the day of the contract signing due to the personal relations
cultivated through fraternizing with the client's.
 
    
The
clients were not to blame, friends since childhood, Brad knew well Ted's
manipulative ways well.
 

 

           
Their
friendship began shortly after Brad's first birthday.
 
His parent's purchased a farm bordering the
Peterson's homestead.
 
Stella and Frank
were simple down to earth people trying to make an honest living while raising
three daughters and a son.
 

 

           
The
families became acquainted when Ted's father approached Frank to procure the
hay needed for his horses and to lease land for grazing.
 
Close in age, Stella and Clara found
companionship during the long hours their husbands worked managing the
establishments.
 

 

Six months older than
Ted, over the years, during their mother’s daily social visits, the boys bonded
like brothers, typical youngsters full of mischief and habitually in
trouble.
 
Whenever Ted’s charms failed in
smoothing things over, right or wrong, Brad came to his defense often accepting
the blame.
  
Ted’s frequent abuse of
Brad’s easy-going generosity evoked Stella and Frank's anger.
 
Despite their pleas to Ted’s parents, they believed
their only child was flawless.

 

           
Staring
at his likeness in the mirror, fidgeting with his tie, Brad tried to suppress
the irritation ignited by memories of the past.
 
Recently he had been trying to come to terms as to why he had allowed
Ted to manipulate him for so many years.
 

BOOK: Rose of Betrayal
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