Anything But Mine (24 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

O
n the Tuesday morning before the wedding, Jen woke early, and slipped out of bed without waking Vince. She had already eaten breakfast and showered, and was blowing her hair dry when Vince walked into her bathroom.

“You’re up early today,” he remarked.

“I have my final dress fitting this morning, and then I’m having lunch with Catherine. I’m positive I mentioned it to you.”

“You did,” Vince replied, as he watched Jen put her hair dryer away and open her make-
up
bag.

Vince continued to stare at Jen, making her uncomfortable. “Can I help you with something?”

Vince shook his head. “No. I just enjoy watching you.”

Jen just shrugged her shoulders and continued applying her make-
up
. After she finished in the bathroom, Vince followed her back into the bedroom. He stood by the open door to her dressing room and watched while she perused her closet.

She picked out a chocolate brown sleeveless cashmere knit dress and matching long cardigan from Grant Glasso’s most recent ready-
to
-
wear
collection. Conscious of Vince’s eyes on her, she slipped off her robe and put on a matching white satin bra and panty set.

When she reached for her dress, Vince wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her towards him. “Don’t bother getting dressed, because I’m just going to undress you,” he said as he held Jen from behind, and pulled her tightly against the front of his body, so she could feel his rock-
hard
erection.

Even though she couldn’t see his face, Jen knew from his tone that Vince’s eyes had narrowed into dark slits, and that he had the intense look he got only when he was aroused. She wriggled her body free from his grasp, and grabbed her dress and boots before walking into their bedroom.

As she was about to pull the dress over her head, Vince ripped it from her hands and tossed it onto the nearby love seat. “I told you not to bother getting dressed, and I meant it.”

Jen tried to get past Vince to pick up her dress, but he blocked her way. “I’m going to be late, Vince,” she said in an exasperated tone.

“So what?”

“I don’t want to be late. I’m meeting my mother, Gina and Catherine,” Jen replied. She managed to dart around him, and had nearly reached the love seat where her dress had landed, when she felt his hand clamp tightly onto her upper left arm and jerk her back towards him. “Oww! Stop, Vince. Let me go. You’re hurting me.”

As Jen was pulled back towards Vince, she caught a glimpse of his face, contorted in anger, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand up in fear.

Vince dug his fingers deeper into her left arm, and she cried out in pain. He ignored her cry, growling, “Don’t you dare refuse me, Jennifer.” He picked her up and threw her face down on the bed, covering her body with his and making her his prisoner.

She struggled to get away from him, but Vince had her trapped, and she felt him ripping off her underpants and entering her from behind. “Ouch! Stop. Please, Vince, please stop,” Jen begged. “You’re hurting me.”

Vince ignored Jennifer’s plea, and continued to pump himself into her, until she felt his body stiffen and heard him moan, signaling that he was on the verge of climaxing. Within seconds, Vince collapsed on top of her while tears streamed down her face.

As Vince stood up and adjusted his robe, he said, “You’re going to be my wife in a few days, Jennifer. Don’t you ever try to deny me or refuse me again.”

Jen continued to cry, and did not turn around to look at Vince as he walked into his bathroom. Once she heard the sound of the bathroom door being locked, she sat up and tried to comprehend what had just happened. Walking into her dressing room, she looked in the full length mirror and saw her upper arms were red with the beginnings of welts and bruises, which stung when she touched them.

Panicking, she knew she had to get out of the apartment before Vince was done in his bathroom. She pulled her largest Louis Vuitton tote bag down from a shelf, and quickly packed a pair of sneakers, some underwear, and a change of clothes. Next, she ran into the bedroom, where she slipped her dress over her head and her boots onto her feet, then into her bathroom and grabbed her birth control pills and make up, and threw them into her bag.

Once she was out of the bedroom, Jen felt safe, but not safe enough to linger in the apartment. She dialed Pablo, asking him to meet her in front of the building while she put on her coat and punched the elevator button. Once the elevator doors closed and she was alone, she was finally able to exhale.

Five minutes later, Pablo brought the car to a stop outside of Grant Glasso’s boutique on Madison Avenue. Jen quickly exited and, looking back over her shoulder, said, “I might be a while, Pablo, but I’ll call you when I’m done.”

She looked back again as she was entering the boutique, and saw Pablo answer his cell phone and look at her as she went through the door.
It must be Vince calling him,
she thought. Her phone rang a few seconds later, and when she saw the call was from Vince, she turned off her phone and buried it deep inside her tote bag.

Grace, Gina and Catherine arrived a few minutes later, and Jen insisted that they have their fittings first, so that she could try to figure out how to keep them from discovering what happened to her earlier. She shook her head and thought,
I must be crazy. How can I marry Vince after what he did to me this morning?

Jen entered her fitting room and removed her cardigan. She looked in the mirror, and gasped at her reflection.
The bruises look even worse now than they did before,
she thought. While she was staring at herself in the mirror, she was startled by a knock on the door, and before she had a chance to pull her cardigan back on, Catherine entered the room in her bridesmaid dress.

Catherine immediately focused on the red welts on Jen’s upper arms, and exclaimed, “Oh my God! Jen, what happened to you?” When Jen said nothing, and instead just shook her head and sat down, Catherine closed the door behind her and rushed to her side. “Did Vince do this to you?”

Jen nodded her head, and tears welled up in her eyes. “Please, promise me you won’t tell anyone,” she whispered. “I’m so ashamed.”

A wave of concern swept over Catherine’s face. “I promise, Jen. I won’t say a word. But I don’t understand why you’re ashamed.” She put an arm around her friend’s shoulder, and softly asked, “What happened?”

As Jen related the events of that morning, Catherine became more and more enraged. “You aren’t seriously thinking of going forward with the wedding, are you?”

Jen couldn’t look at Catherine, and hung her head down. “I feel like I have to. I don’t know what to do.”

“Has he ever done this to you before?”

“No, never,” Jen replied. “This was totally out of the blue. He was so angry with me when I said no to him. It was like he couldn’t control himself.”

“Yeah, I imagine no one tells him no,” Catherine remarked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You don’t think he’ll do this to you again, do you?”

“I don’t know. I hope not.” The two friends sat there quietly, before Jen continued, “I don’t think I can go back there tonight. I need some time alone to think.”

“Do you want to stay with us?”

“I don’t want to put you and Luke in the middle of this. He works for Vince, after all, and I don’t want to put his job in jeopardy. I’ll probably stay with my parents, or at my place in Brooklyn.”

“Okay, but what about the wedding? If you’re going to call it off, you probably should do it before people start arriving from out of town.” Catherine added, quietly, “Drew is flying in Thursday night.”

Although she tried to hide it, Jen’s entire body jerked and her hands trembled on hearing Drew’s name.

Catherine noticed Jen’s reaction, and said, “Oh my God, Jen, you still love him. You’re still not over him.”

“I’ll never be over him,” Jen confessed. “It was always Drew, from the moment we met. I was comfortable with him right from the start. We just ‘clicked’, and it was like I’d known him my whole life.”

Stunned, Catherine asked, “But what about all those years with Chris?”

“Even when I was with Chris, I knew somewhere deep down…,” Jen’s voice trailed off. “Even then, I sometimes dreamed of Drew making love to me,” she whispered.

Catherine’s eyes grew wide. “Then how can you marry Vince?”

“Drew gave up –
he
never put up a fight for me,” Jen said, as the pain she had carefully hidden away came bubbling up to the surface. She struggled to regain her composure, before continuing, “He told me to get on with my life, and he clearly has gotten on with his. So don’t worry about the wedding. It’s going to go forward.”

“I’m not worried about the wedding, Jen. I’m worried about you. I’m worried that you aren’t marrying the man you love.”

“That’s not true. I do love Vince,” Jen replied. “It’s just that I’ve never gotten over Drew.” She stood up and again examined the bruises on her arms while looking in the mirror. “You know, it’s funny, Cath, it would be so much easier to forget about Drew if he had done something horrible, or if we’d had a bad argument and break-
up
.” Jen sighed, before continuing, “It’s so much harder to forget him, when I have nothing but good memories of him. Even though he broke my heart, somewhere deep inside, I’ll always love him.”

“If only things were different,” Catherine said, her voice trailing off.

“But they’re not. That’s why I’m marrying Vince. He loves me. He’s protected me, and kept me safe.” Jen hugged herself, as a tear slipped past her eyelashes and ran down her cheek.

Catherine stood and walked over to where Jen was standing. Trying to be supportive of her friend, she said, “Your wedding gown is sleeveless, Jen. How are you going to cover the bruises? They’ll never heal by Saturday.”

“I’m going to ask Mr. Glasso to make sleeves for my gown,” she replied. “Hopefully he has enough fabric, and the seamstresses have enough time, to do it.” She was silent for a moment, then added, “Good thing I had everyone on Mr. Glasso’s staff sign a non-
disclosure
agreement.”

Vince arrived at his office in a foul mood, having tried to reach Jennifer all morning, but his calls went directly to her voice mail. He took his anger out on everyone, including his assistant, Marianne, hissing, “Hold all my calls unless they’re from Jennifer or Brad Wesley.”

He slammed the door to his office and began pacing the floor.
Where the hell is she? Why won’t she take my calls?

When the intercom buzzed, he ran and picked up the phone. “Put him through,” he said to Marianne.

A moment later, Brad Wesley was on the line. “Where the hell is she?”

“I just viewed the footage from some of the security cameras in the area. She slipped out the side door when she left Grant Glasso’s boutique, and got into a yellow cab with her friend Catherine.”

“Goddamn it,” Vince barked into the phone. “Find her immediately,” he shouted, before hanging up and dialing Jen’s number again.

As the day wore on and Jen didn’t return his calls, his anger turned into fear, anxiety and concern for her.
Where is she,
he wondered, as he began dialing logical places where Jennifer might be found, but each call was a dead end.
She’s not home, she’s not at any of her favorite restaurants, she’s not in the Hamptons, she’s not even at her apartment in Brooklyn Heights.
He wandered over to the window and looked across the East River towards Brooklyn.
I can’t call her parents, not yet,
he thought.
Who else can I call? Where else can I search?

As he stared out the window, he came to a realization, and summoned Luke into his office. “Sit down,” he said, directing him to a chair next to his desk. “Have you spoken with your wife today?”

“I spoke with her about an hour ago. Why?”

“I can’t reach Jennifer. She must have turned her phone off,” Vince said. “Do you know where they went?”

“They had their dress fittings this morning, and then they had lunch at Saks.”

Saks. It never occurred to me that they would have lunch at Saks.
“What about after lunch?”