Three Stages of Love: Attraction (25 page)

“Oh, you have no idea what I will have of you later,” he replied and walked away smirking.

The doorbell chimed through the house, echoing with every tone. Ms. Gina let Cat in and showed her the way to the kitchen.

I embraced her even before saying hello. Sometimes a warm to be wrapped by the arms of someone who truly cares means more than any words can say.

And she responded, “Thank you, Eva.”

“Come, let’s see if we can show you how to cook. Oh, and thank you for the wine. I’ll get some glasses.” It was only midday but a glass of wine or two with lunch sounded like a good idea!

Cat really did not know how to cook! I asked her to add a little flour to the Marsala sauce, and she dumped the whole cup in. It was very funny, and the wine was adding to our giddiness, but I had to start the sauce all over again. So she wasn’t allowed to do anymore cooking—and she was happy with that!

“So, Cat, I don’t want to mention anything that is going to upset you, but…What are your plans now that Steve is gone?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t doing wrong.

Cat picked her glass of wine up and took a sip before trying to respond. “I’m not really sure. I have been the little housewife for so long; I honestly don’t know where to start. I don’t seem to have the energy in me or the drive that I had fifteen years ago.”

I stopped my mushroom slicing. “Cat, you are only a few years older than me, so if you feel old, that means I’m old, and I just won’t have it.” I too took a sip of wine. “You don’t need a man to have a purpose. What are the things
you
enjoy? What are
your
hobbies?”

Cat just stared at me strangely.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry. I thought maybe talking would help,” I said, saddened by her expression.

“No, it’s fine. You just have me stumbling on that very thought,” she said. “See, my father was very much like Steve; he believed that a woman’s place was in the home, and since we were always well off financially, he didn’t take to me working. He didn’t take to many of the decisions I wanted to make.” She sighed, hurting with every breath. “I married Steve because of my father. The man I should have married—the man I loved—wasn’t of the right social class or financial worth for my father to approve of. But that didn’t stop me. I spent every minute I could with James. He wooed me with sincerity in his emotions that one can only dream up; but it was real—he was real. That is, until my father fell ill. He sustained a massive heart attack and only lived for a few days after the episode.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. Cat. But then why didn’t you stay with James after your father passed? I’m sure he would have only wanted you to be happy,” I asked, completely entwined in her story.

“Eva, I was unhinged by James. At times it was if my emotions could have burst through every layer of skin covering my body. He was the only man who had affected me this way, but my father wouldn’t have it. He was all about the family name, and the bank account, and social appearances. It was all he knew. The day he died, a few hours before he passed, I gave my mother leave to go rest, and I stayed by his bedside. When he woke, he spoke his last words to me.” The tears dripped from Cat’s eyes like streamers across her cheeks. “He told me that as his only daughter, I would have to carry on the family name and the respect that our family had always maintained. He told me that he was dying of a broken heart because I was embarrassing the family by denying Steve and staying with an unknown like James. When I tried to tell him how much I loved James, he just closed his eyes, and it was for the last time. He died.”

I have never been one to know what to say when someone tells a story about death. But this one in particular had me paining. “Cat, you sacrificed your life for something that isn’t palatable. You marrying Steve didn’t make your father come back; it didn’t make anything better. It made you miserable to endure such a horrid marriage for all these years.”

“I carried the guilt of his last words to me up until the other day when I found out about Leila. My mother was destroyed when she heard, but she too in some way was relieved. She hurt for me for so long, but she always followed my father’s wishes and his every word. So, she hadn’t tried to stop me. After my dad died, I was in mourning over his death, over his words, and over what my future would bring. And that’s when Steve made his grand rescue of the damsel in distress. He was sweet and kind and never hurt me per say, but he had a plan. And once I fell for his charm, he took all of me and made me into what he wanted and not what I was.”

I felt wretched listening to how Steve deprived her of love and a life of her own.

“First he made me leave my job, promising we would try to have children. Then he took control of the finances and almost blew every cent we had. And then it was the little things that equaled the bigger picture. He made decisions for me: who I would speak to, what I would eat, where I would go, and how I was to behave. He wasn’t loving me…I was his pet to command,” Cat continued.

I saw the scenes play out in my head as she recounted the last horrible years of her life, and I quivered at the thought of losing my identity.

“I’ve saddened the day enough. Let’s change topic,” Cat decided, seeing the distressed expression on my face as I watched her.

“I wish I could say something to make you feel better, but I wouldn’t know where to start. You have lived all the fears that lurk inside me. That which you have experienced is what terrifies me the most. I can’t get my heart and my thoughts away from Alexander, but I am also terribly afraid of all those same emotions. I am trying so hard to keep them tucked away, but hearing you, seeing you like this…I know I’m not crazy. It is possible to lose yourself in love.” I choked on my words—words that had been stirring inside of me for days and that I had successfully suppressed.

“Eva, you are stronger than I was. I fell for his show of love so desperately that I couldn’t see what he was doing around me. That’s not you; you are smarter and wiser and Alexander loves you. That is no show.” She tried to assure me, having reignited my trepidations.

But then I felt awful. “Oh God, Cat, here I was hoping to console you, only to find me whimpering and you consoling me. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. That is what friends do; you tell me your woes, and I tell you mine. It’s all good.” She lifted her wrist to look at her watch. “Oh, I’d better head out. It’s getting late, and I promised my mother we would have dinner. Tomorrow I am meeting with some friends—real friends—for lunch and then some shopping. Are you up for it?”

“I’d love to. That sounds great. Text me the time, and you can pick me up since I still don’t really know where the hell I’m driving.” I laughed as I wiped my hands and walked over to hug her again. “I really enjoyed seeing you, Cat, and I’m sorry for—”

She cut me off and hugged me tighter. “Enough with the apologies, and I enjoyed getting it all out. Sometimes you just need to purge all you have inside even if it makes you cry, just so you can move past it.”

I admired Cat’s strength and ability to recognize her weaknesses and console herself with her strengths. She was a woman who held all the world in her hands, and it was ripped from her by an imitation of love. Now, she found her self alone, loveless, and with an uncertainty of where her place was in the world she once ran. I feared the destiny that she had just been saved from.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“Sweetness, where art thou, Evangeline?” Alexander called from the foyer.

I stuck my head out from behind the kitchen counter where I was still cooking since the morning. I had prepared almost a dozen trays of food that just needed to be cooked when Samantha and Marcus arrived. I figured all the preparations would spare me from wasted time from the friends I longed to be with.

“There you are. That is a glorious smell. What is it, dinner?” he asked.

“Take your pick from one of the twelve trays of food, and let me know which smells glorious to you,” I said, laughing.

“You are out of your mind. We could have catered something, and we can take them to dinner, you know,” Alexander offered.

“You don’t get it. Going out for dinner is fine, but Samantha is like my little sister. I wanted to prepare something special and more personal for when they arrive. It makes me feel good,” I explained.

Alexander came around and kissed me on the neck. “So does this mean that you are too tired to finish what we started this morning?”

“Never too tired for a little action. But if you’ll let me finish up, I can concentrate on you and not on returning to the food,” I said, lifting my ass to nudge him in his groin.

His chest vibrated with excitement against my back. “All right, I’m going to take a quick shower and catch up on some work. Let me know when you are done.”

I nodded as he went off.

It was 1:30 a.m. when I finished cleaning up. And the moment that I stopped racing around the kitchen was the moment that I felt the aches shooting throughout my entire body. I had to breathe, if only for a minute, in silence—before heading up to Alexander.

But my moments of silence lead me to a quick and restful sleep. I passed out!

“Ugh, my back,” I moaned, turning onto my side and almost falling off of the cushion. “Whoa!” I rolled back, suddenly realizing that I was still on the couch where I had
rested
for a moment.

“Miss Eva, good morning. How are you feeling?” Ms. Gina asked, coming toward me with a cup of coffee in hand that she had prepared for me.

I shook my head. “Everything hurts. Falling asleep on the couch didn’t help my already tired back. Has Alexander come down yet?” I asked.

“Oh, he left for the office about an hour ago. He asked for you to call him when you awoke,” she said.

“OK, thank you Ms. Gina. I am going to go shower.” And I heaved myself off the couch, feeling battered, and I sauntered up to the master bath.

Looking at the plush bed, I wanted to simply dive into it and sleep the rest of the day.
Oh, shit. Cat will be here soon to pick me up.
I remembered agreeing to plans with Cat and her friends when I saw the clock read almost noon.

I picked up the phone and called Alexander.

“Well, good morning,” he answered.

“Good morning,” I said in my groggiest of voices. “Why didn’t you wake me before you left?”

He chuckled under his breath. “Because you looked like you hadn’t slept in months, and because after all the work you did yesterday, you deserved some undisturbed rest.”

“I forgot to mention that I agreed to go to lunch with Cat. Is that—”

But a knock on his office door interrupted our call.

“I’m sorry. One second,” he said, and a beep signified that I was put on hold.

But why was I on hold? He didn’t have another call; someone was walking into his office.

“Hey, sweetness, listen, my clients are here and are apparently in an uproar about something. Enjoy your lunch, take some time to yourself, and I will talk to you later.” Alexander rushed me off the phone, sounding anxious and in hurry.

“Ah—OK, talk to you later,” I said and disconnected the call.

Cat arrived a little late. Lucky for me I had had enough time to do my hair and makeup before going out looking like the Crypt Keeper.

We drove through to Rodeo Drive and parked in front of Posh, an American-style restaurant that was lined with valet parkers and clients dressed to the nines. “Don’t worry; the people here are surprisingly much friendlier than those you’ve met to date,” Cat said, giggling and rolling her eyes.

Lunch was practically uneventful. Cat’s
other friends
were as she had said: much friendlier than the likes of Leila and Missy. The conversations were light and girly. We talked mostly about clothes and shoes and where I could go buy my Manolos at decent prices.

The two ladies who joined us were high school friends of Cat’s, and the relationship between them reminded me of what I had with Samantha. They cared for her, and they protected her.

“OK, ladies, now that we have stuffed our faces, are we ready to go lay our fat asses on tables and be pampered till the cows come home?” said Cat, pulling out her Texas accent.

“Wait, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had plans after this. I left the house a mess when I left. I really want to go straighten up before Alexander returns,” I said.

Cat looked at the ladies, and the three let out a simultaneous song of laughter.

“OK, what’s so funny?” I asked.

“Eva, you have a maid. Let her earn her keep for one day. Alexander is at work, and I’m sure he doesn’t mind you relaxing the day through so that you can be found prime for when he returns.” Cat winked at me.

Hey, she is right! Why not!
“I could use a massage.” Stretching my back and feeling the pain from all my standing and cooking, I begged for a massage.

Sliding her arm under mine, Cat led the way out of the restaurant and to the day spa.

This is the life
, I thought as the masseuse lay hot stones down the center of my spine.
I could do this every day! To think that when I got up to go to work every morning, these women were having lunches and being pampered all day. Ugh, every woman should get this treatment at least once a week. Then again, these women don’t cook, they don’t clean, those who have children have nannies, and they don’t work. So do they do this every other day because they have nothing else to do or because they are stressed? Does one have to be stressed to pamper oneself?

“Miss…” the masseuse whispered above my head as I was fading into my black hole.

“Yes,” I responded quietly.

“We are going to take you in to the mud pool where you will join the others,” she said, holding up a robe for me.

“Thank you,” I said as I slid of the bed with my sheet and walked into the robe she held up.

This was the epitome of health and beauty spas if I ever saw one. They catered to celebrities and men and women who paid thousands of dollars every two to three days to be taken care of here.

When I entered the
mud pool
area, I found Cat and her two friends already soaking in bathtub-sized mud holes in the ground. Each of them had their own attendant, and they were being served champagne as they soaked in dirt.