The Beautiful Ones (Arabesque) (15 page)

BOOK: The Beautiful Ones (Arabesque)
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Ophelia and Solomon turned. One of his ladies in waiting stood proudly before them in only a pair of low-cut panties.

“The girls are getting a little anxious.” The woman twirled her long hair around her fingers as her gaze shifted to Ophelia. “Is she joining us?”

“I don’t think so,” Ophelia sneered, and then glared at Solomon. “I was just leaving.”

He didn’t stop her.

Bolting through the door, she made sure that it slammed behind her. “He’s just like his damn uncle,” she seethed, marching to her car.

The wind howled, and a few droplets of water splattered against her face. However, it wasn’t until she slid in behind the wheel that she realized it wasn’t raining.

“I’m such an idiot.” She started the car and quickly wiped her eyes. Ms. Practical Ophelia almost made the biggest mistake of her life. She was going to tell Solomon she was in love with him.

She emitted a sad chuckle and pressed her foot on the accelerator. “What the hell was I thinking?”

You are a part of
our lives; please be a part of our special day.
You are cordially invited to be with us on the occasion of a celebration of a miracle…love, when we, Ophelia Missler and Jonas Hinton, join together in marriage on Saturday, the twelfth of November.

 

Chapter 20

 

O
n a mid-October morning, Diana Taylor’s eyes skimmed over the wedding invitation several times before she turned from the foyer table and strolled through the wide space of her Georgia suburban mansion in search of her husband.

She found Marcel in the backyard, running around with the other girl in his life: Brandy. At first sight of them frolicking around, her quick strides slowed, and then she stopped to lean against the back door.

Diana loved listening to her husband’s laughter and Brandy’s rambunctious barking. Of course, this wasn’t always so. Up until a year ago, she was terrified of dogs, Brandy especially. In fact, the first time she had any dealings with the lovable dog, Diana had found herself cowering at the bottom of a closet.

She laughed at the memory and, in turn, drew Marcel’s and Brandy’s attention. Her body tingled the moment his gaze centered on her and then warmed when he smiled. Who knew that life could be so perfect?

A few seconds later, Marcel rushed up to her and swept her into his strong embrace. It was like being enfolded in a nice, strong, comfortable blanket—one she wished she never had to take off.

“It looks like Ophelia is going through with this.” Diana waved the invitation in front of him.

He groaned and rolled his eyes. “I like Jonas but…”

Diana sighed and laid her head against her husband’s chest. “Are they still not talking to each other?”

“Three months and counting.” Disappointment laced Marcel’s words. “Maybe it’s time for an intervention.”

She pulled back and glanced up at him. “Do you really think that’s wise?”

He shrugged. “They’re my best friends.”

“Yeah, but Jonas doesn’t want Solomon in the picture.”

“Which is another reason why I don’t like the guy.” Marcel’s face darkened. “What if he’d said that he didn’t want her associating with me? Would she have given me the heave-ho, too?”

“So are you mad at him or Ophelia?”

“Both,” he snapped.

Diana rubbed his back to encourage him to calm down. “I haven’t known them as long as you have, but maybe there’s something more going on than we know. Ophelia seems to be like a very practical woman.”

“Too practical for her own good, if you ask me.”

“Maybe we need to face up to the fact that maybe she’s really in love with Jonas…and that Solomon has missed his chance.”

Marcel was silent for a long time before he said, “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”

* * *

 

Solomon had a difficult time paying attention in his meeting. He wasn’t even sure what the damn thing was about. His thoughts were preoccupied with the wedding invitation that was accidentally mailed to him.

Or maybe it was a peace offering.

Either way, he had no intention of attending.

It had been three months since he’d last seen or spoken to Ophelia. Three months since he had constructed the perfect wall around his heart. However, the invitation delivered a serious blow and even managed to cause serious damage.

For the millionth time, he reviewed the morning she appeared at his place. She had started to tell him something but was interrupted. Wondering what that something was had become an obsession.

The way she stormed out, however, left a sour taste in his mouth. A part of him wanted to chase after her; the other part was tired of it. She had made her choice and, come hell or high water, he was going to honor it.

When the meeting adjourned, he managed to flash the drifting employees a plastic smile; but he remained rooted in his chair long after everyone had left. Leaning back, he swiveled toward the large, wall-length windows to stare out at the city landscape.

He needed a change.

After the thought drifted across his mind, he nearly laughed out loud. Wasn’t that the same thing Marcel spouted shortly before he fell in love and got married?

Maybe that’s what he needed—to find a nice girl and settle down. It seemed to have worked wonders for Marcel. The man was positively glowing and cracking jokes at every possible turn. Quite frankly, it was starting to get on Solomon’s nerves.

Then there was the possibility of transferring to T & B’s New York office. There was no longer any point of both him and Marcel working out of Atlanta.

The more Solomon thought about it, the more he liked the idea. A change—that was exactly what he needed.

The conference room’s door bolted open, and Marcel poked his head inside. “There you are. I’ve been looking all over the place for you. Your uncle’s here, stirrin’ up trouble. Can you handle it before we get slammed with sexual harassment suits?”

Solomon groaned, propped his elbows up on the table, and buried his face in his hand. “Lord, please, not today.”

“Well, I can always call security,” Marcel joked.

Moaning, Solomon pushed himself out of his chair. “As tempting as that offer may be, I have a feeling that I’d never live it down.”

“That makes two of us.” Marcel stared at Solomon as he approached the door. “You all right, man?”

“Never better,” Solomon lied, but he was forced to stop in his tracks when his friend blocked the exit.

Marcel slid his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Not to get all mushy on you or anything—”

“Then don’t,” Solomon huffed, meeting his friend’s level gaze.

If his buddy was put off or surprised by his surliness, Marcel didn’t show it, nor did he step away from the door. “You know, Diana and I have invited Jonas and Ophelia over for dinner. Why don’t you stop by? We’d love to have you.”

Solomon laughed. “Nice try, but I’ll pass.”

“How long are you two going to keep this up? It’s ridiculous.”

Drawing a deep breath, Solomon squared his shoulders. “I really do appreciate the concern, but it’s not necessary. I’m a big boy. I’ll be fine.”

Gazes still locked, Marcel nodded, and then finally stepped aside.

Solomon crossed the threshold and stopped again. “I’m thinking about moving to our offices in New York.” He shrugged with a casualness he didn’t feel. “I’ll keep you posted.”

This time, Marcel blinked in surprise. “We’ll certainly miss you around here. But if you gotta go, you gotta go. I understand.”

Solomon met his gaze again, nodded, and then strolled off. Minutes later, a woman’s hysterical scream pierced his eardrum, and he raced to find out what was happening. What he found was the makings of World War III.

“You bastard! I’m going to kill you,” Nora Gibson screeched, struggling to reach his Uncle Willy.

Luckily, there were six other women fighting equally hard to keep her back.

“I was still going to call,” Willy said, shrugging and smirking. “I’ve just been tied up…literally.”

Just great.
Solomon moaned and approached the scene with a rising furor. “Ms. Gibson, get a hold of yourself,” he thundered.

Everyone froze.

Nora’s angry glare landed on him, but quickly cooled when Solomon gave one of his own.

“Now what the hell is going on here?” he asked the circle of employees.

Uncle Willy stepped forward with a cocksure grin and his chest puffed up. “Oh, it nothing, li’l nephew.” He slid his arm around Nora’s waist and squeezed her close. “It’s just a little lover’s spat.” He winked and unfortunately didn’t see that right hook Nora sent his way.

The women gasped, Willy went down for the count, and Nora stormed off, mumbling, “Selfish bastard!”

All in all, it was the highlight of Solomon’s day.

The security guards came and helped prop Willy on the couch in Solomon’s office. Chelsea was kind enough to make an ice pack for his eye, and Solomon made him a drink.

“Ooh, that’s going to leave a mark,” Chelsea said while inspecting Nora’s work.

“Hey, you don’t need an excuse to get close to me.” Willy smiled and slapped his knees. “Just pop a squat, sweetheart. I’ll take you on a ride you’ll never forget.”

Chelsea dropped the ice pack back on his eye and smiled when he yelped in pain. “Keep it up, and I’ll blacken the other one for you.”

Willy’s boisterous laugh followed her out of the room.

Solomon sighed and shook his head as he sat behind his desk. “I’m sorry to have to do this to you, Uncle Willy, but I’m going to have to ask you to not come by the office anymore.”

“Aw, come on. That was nothing.” Willy chuckled, reaching into his pocket and removing a cigar.

“This is a place of business not the W.W.E.” Solomon eased back in his chair and folded his arms. “You’re loud and obnoxious—”

“I’ve never claimed to be an angel—”

“You offend the female staff—”

“Oh, they love me. Don’t let them tell you otherwise.” He stuck the cigar in his mouth.

“Don’t smoke in here.”

“Hey, a buddy of mine is throwing a party next weekend. You wanna come?” He lit the cigar.

Solomon’s eyes narrowed as he pushed out of his chair and walked around the desk. “I said, no smoking.” He removed the cigar from his uncle’s mouth and dropped it into Willy’s drink.

“Hey!”

“Hey, yourself, old man,” he snapped back, and then drew a deep breath. “How do you do it?”

Willy set his ruined drink down on a nearby table. “How do I do what?”

“Just breeze through life, going from one party after another—drifting from one woman to another.” Solomon tossed up his hands. “I mean, what is that? Is this fun for you? Tell me, because I must be missing something. Boxing, stabbings, shootings—aren’t you getting a little too old for this crap?”

Willy looked at him like he’d never seen him before.

As the silence thickened, Solomon, too, began to see cracks in his uncle’s happy mask. Sadness dulled his eyes, and signs of weariness surfaced from nowhere.

“Not everyone has what you have,” his uncle said dully. “Or should I say, what you could’ve had?”

Solomon thrust up his chin.

“I, unfortunately, never ran across a soul mate. And believe it or not, I’ve looked for her from time to time.” He chuckled and then drew a long breath. “Now, my brother—your father, on the other hand, was just like you. When he was eight, he fell in love with a cute little girl next door to us. The entire family used to laugh at how he would follow this girl around like a long lost puppy. He’d carry her books to school, create homemade valentine cards, and taken her to every school dance. This continued through junior high and high school. They were inseparable.”

Enthralled, Solomon leaned back against his desk and asked, “What happened?”

Willy shrugged. “When he turned eighteen, he enlisted in the army and married her.”

“Mom?”

“Yep. Your mother. He was the luckiest sonofabitch I ever knew. That is, until you came along.” Willy met Solomon’s gaze. “Course, we know you story is going to turn out a little bit different, don’t we?”

Solomon’s chest tightened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Willy stood up, handed over his ice pack, and adjusted his jacket to leave. “Yeah. You just keep telling yourself that.”

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