The Beautiful Ones (Arabesque) (13 page)

BOOK: The Beautiful Ones (Arabesque)
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Her delicately arched eyebrows rose. “This was the only con I could think of before asking you to come here tonight—the fear that sex could cost us our friendship, never mind what would happen if a love affair soured. You mean too much to me. I’d rather have you in my life as a friend than not at all. What about you?”

Solomon stared at her, barely able to breathe because of the painful throb in his chest.

“Stay,” she urged.

His throat constricted, and he allowed her to pull him toward her.

“Just for the night,” she whispered. “And no one will ever have to know.”

He lost himself in her sweet kisses and soft curves. If this was the only night he had, he might as well make the most of it.

And he did just that.

Intermission

 

Chapter 17

 

Back at the Crown Room

 

T
oni thanked the bartender for replacing her drink before settling her gaze back on the handsome man beside her. “So far, this sounds like one hell of a triangle.”

“Sometimes love gives you more than you bargained for.”

“So I’ve been told,” she whispered, taking a sip of her drink.

“You’ve never been in love?” he asked.

The question threw her off guard. At age forty, Toni had dated many men—from all walks of life. Some men had showed her a good time, others had taught her life lessons, and the rest she’d rather forget.

“I’m going to take that as no.” He chuckled.

“Well, it’s not that I don’t believe in love or anything,” she said. “But I’ve never experienced a lightning bolt or stared into the depths of a man’s eyes and felt beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’d met my soul mate.” Toni laughed it off, but she was crushed by a wave of disappointment. She had come close once, but close didn’t count.

“Then consider yourself lucky,” he mumbled.

She didn’t feel so lucky. While she was out leaping tall buildings in a single bound, most of her friends had settled down and started families. Meanwhile, she couldn’t decide whether owning a dog was too much of a commitment.

“Flight 2193 is now ready for boarding. Flight 2193.”

Toni sighed. At this rate, she should’ve just taken a taxi to Los Angeles. “So what happened next?” she asked, reaching for her glass. “I have to admit I’m intrigued.”

“And here I thought I was boring you.”

“Not hardly.” She nudged him. “Go on. I’m dying to know how this all played out.”

He glanced at his watch and gave a half shrug. “All right. Let’s see. What happened next?”

Do You Want Him, or Do You Want Me?

 

Chapter 18

 

“O
h, Jonas. It’s beautiful.” Ophelia pressed a hand against her mouth as she stared at the magnificent blue diamond.

“I’m glad you like it.” Jonas puffed out his chest while watching his fiancée’s eyes gloss with fresh tears. He was glad he chose to present her with the ring over breakfast. The sooner they were able to put last night behind them, the better. “Trust me. The diamond pales in comparison to you.”

She cocked her head and looked up at him.

“Poured on a bit thick?” he asked with an uneven smile.

“Just a bit, but it was still nice to hear.”

Jonas smiled, extracted the ring from its burgundy box, and then reached for her hand. Pride filled him as the ring slid onto her long finger and sparkled beneath the morning light.

Seeing her reaction did ease some of his guilt. The moment he saw her this morning, he noticed the puffy bags and the tinge of redness in her eyes. She had been crying, most likely over his walking out.

“Seems like the only formality left is for me to talk with your father,” he joked.

Ophelia responded with a soft laugh. “Oh, yes. Time to meet the parents. I’m nervous about meeting yours, too.”

“Well, I’m sure my parents are going to love you.”

She smiled, but then drew a deep breath. “I wish I could say the same.”

Jonas frowned. “What do you mean? I’ve already met your mother. I thought she liked me?”

“Oh, she does.” She pressed a reassuring hand against his. “It’s my father you’re going to have to worry about. Well, you shouldn’t worry—he’s not going to like you.”

“That’s encouraging.” He frowned.

“Hey, last Christmas was the first time he called Marcel by his name. Before then, he was just referred to as ‘young man.’”

“What about Solomon?”

“Young man number two. A lot of times it was just a toss-up as to who he was talking to.”

“I…see.” Jonas’s worried expression intensified.

“He’s just a little overprotective. That’s all.”

“Overprotective? Then how did he allow you to go gallivanting off to Cancun to room with two boys?”

“Oh, yeah.” She rolled her eyes skyward. “You probably shouldn’t mention that. To this day, he thinks I went to visit a cousin out in California.”

Jonas plopped back into his chair and just stared at her. “Uh-huh. Did you lie to your father often?”

“It wasn’t a complete lie. Before we came back, I swung by my cousin Amy’s house for a day or two. It’s more like I elected not to tell my father everything. He’s a strict retired marine who would’ve skinned the three of us alive, even to this day, if he ever found out the truth.”

He knew he was going to hate this, but he had to ask, “Were there any other grand adventures you took with Marcel and Solomon that you didn’t tell your father about?”

“Yeah. All of them.”

Jonas stiffened.
Just how many were there?

“But the point is,” she said, squeezing his hand, “that there won’t be any more secret trips. We’ve all grown up and have chosen our life partners—”

“A seven-year affair with a married woman hardly qualifies as a life partner,” he sniped.

She lowered her gaze and stared at her ring. “Maybe, maybe not. We shouldn’t judge,” she said quietly.

Jonas grew uncomfortable in the thickening silence. “Anyway, I’m sure I’ll be able to win your father over. A lot of people think I’m charming.”

She fluttered a brief smile. “You are that. You won me over.”

“Have I?” The two simple words held a lot of weight and meaning to them, and Jonas was determined to hold her golden gaze until he had an answer.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” she answered with a question of her own. Then she drew a deep breath and thrust up her chin. “About last night.”

He clenched his teeth. He knew they would have to discuss this, but he preferred to just forget the whole thing. “Yes. What about it?”

“You walked out on me.”

“Yes, I know—”

“Don’t ever do it again,” she warned.

Jonas’s brows rose in surprise at her hard tone. He wasn’t accustomed to being told what to do, or even being challenged, for that matter.

“If there’s something wrong,” she said, softening her tone, “we talk about it. It’s important we agree to this, or we’re not going to make it.”

Staring into her direct gaze, Jonas suddenly felt as though he was balancing on a thin thread. If he made the wrong move, there was a good chance she would be handing the ring back. However, he needed something to be resolved as well.

“Then let’s talk now,” he said evenly. “I don’t like Solomon. I don’t trust him.”

“Then you don’t trust me.”

“And I don’t believe you’ve told me everything that has happened between you two,” he added, ignoring her comment. “But at this point, I’m not sure I want to know.”

A swift silence ensued.

“Two great things about the past,” he continued. “One: we all have them. And two: it
is
the past.” He waited until he was certain she caught his meaning. “If Solomon continues to stay around, then I agree with you… We’re
not
going to make it.”

Ophelia’s attention, once again, returned to the ring, sparkling on her finger.

Jonas’s heart squeezed at her look of indiscretion. He had hoped for immediate pacification or denial, but it was clear now he would get neither. “O-o-okay.” He crossed his arms. “I have to leave for L.A. today,” he continued thickly. “Why don’t you take a few days to really think this over? Either you’re going to be my wife or Solomon’s best friend. You can’t be both.”

* * *

 

Solomon was the first to arrive at T & B Entertainment. He had a ton of paperwork to catch up on, a couple of acts to review, and a few meetings to conduct. From here on out, he wasn’t going to sweat things he couldn’t control. If Ophelia wanted to toss their twenty-five-year relationship out of the window, so be it. He had a company to run.

After doling out a greeting to Frank, the half-asleep security guard on duty, Solomon headed to the elevator bay. He loved the office at this time of morning. He tended to get more done when it was quiet.

However, he was somewhat surprised when he entered his office to the sound of a ringing phone. Maybe it would be quick, he rationalized, and then crossed the large office in a few quick strides. “Bassett,” he answered.

“I knew your butt would be in the office this early,” Selma’s disappointed voice filled the line.

“Well, you know how much I hate to disappoint the ladies.” He chuckled while sliding off his jacket. “Where are you?”

“Waiting to board my plane,” she huffed. “Did you talk to Ophelia yet?”

His hand tightened on the phone as he lowered into his chair. “Yeah. We talked—or more like, she said what she had to say.”

“Did you tell her the truth about us?” Concern edged its way into her voice.

“The subject never came up.” His throat tightened, forcing him to conclude the conversation. “Look, Selma. I have a lot of work I have to take care of today. Why don’t you just give me a call after you make it home?”

“Sol, what happened?”

“I have meetings and auditions lined up,” he went on, rubbing his chest. “We can talk about this at another time.”

For a moment, the only sound over the line was the busy Hartsfield-Jackson airport. When she finally responded, her voice was soft and maternal. “You promise we’ll talk later?”

He didn’t want to promise anything. “We’ll talk.” After disconnecting the call, Solomon eased back in his chair and just stared at the phone. The desire to call Ophelia was strong, however, his head overruled his heart.

The rest of the morning sped by, and just like he’d promised himself, he let the job consume him.

Some time after lunch, news reached him of Zandra Holloway blowing up the coffeemaker. He wasn’t quite sure how someone could manage that, but by midafternoon, the woman added a fax and a copier machine to her list of disasters.

“Someone has to talk to her,” Chelsea said edgily, jabbing her hands on her waist and tapping her foot. “Someone, meaning
you
.”

“Just get someone to show her how to work these things.” He forced calmness in his voice and then continued to pore over the profit-and-loss statements.

“I’ve already tried that,” Chelsea sniped.

“Damn it! Do I have to do everything around here?” he exploded.

His secretary blinked and took a retreating step.

“Seriously, Chelsea, do you think as vice president of a Fortune 500 company, I should be the one teaching employees how to use a fax machine?”

“N-no, sir.” She stared at him open-mouthed. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you.” He watched her with teeth still clenched while she made her escape; but his annoyance refused to wane for a few hours.

The good thing was everyone left him alone after that. When he walked down the halls, the employees went out of their way to avoid crossing his path. Today, that suited him just fine.

“Mr. Bassett?” Chelsea’s stiff but professional voice floated over the intercom at exactly five o’clock.

“Yes?”

“I have a call for you on line one.”

“Who is it?”

“Ms. Missler.”

Solomon looked up from his piles of reports to stare at the phone.

“Should I put the call through?” Chelsea asked.

He winced at the sudden pain in his chest, but his gaze remained glued to the phone. The battle between his heart and head turned into a full-scale war. The victor won only by a narrow margin.

“Mr. Bassett?”

Finally, he snatched up the phone while ice poured through his veins. “Tell Ms. Missler I’ve left for the day.”

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