CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I’d had the foresight to pack a little Monique Lhuillier tulle cocktail dress in champagne back home but didn’t feel it practical to pack heels so I’d stuffed in an odd pocket of my bag a simple pair of black Fendi ballet flats with a ribbon that wrapped the ankle. I was so grateful I’d done all that but forgot that it took days for tulle to “de-wrinkle” for lack of a better word. I had little under an hour and I was freaking out a little.
Abri had set her sights on me the minute she’d walked in the door and it made me, to say the least, a little uneasy. The last thing I wanted was to look unkempt when being scrutinized so closely. I wasn’t sure her motive but I knew without a doubt that Abri Aberdeen did not trust me. I didn’t think I could blame her, though her interrogation style left a little to be desired, because, well, she was the executive mayor of Cape Town and I do believe she’d set her sights on loftier political positions. I was a potential liability.
I unpacked my dress and hung it in the bathroom, took a steaming hot shower courtesy of their guest quarters and kept the room warm and humid by keeping the door shut while blowing my hair out and curling it with the wand oddly kept in a drawer next to the dryer. It was thoughtful of Abri to keep the instruments available to her guests but also felt like two points were added next to a dash by her name when I’d used them.
By the time my makeup and hair were done, the room had cooled. The wrinkles had disappeared significantly but not entirely. I thought about running the shower again but knew the water hadn’t yet reheated. I’d just started to panic when I heard a knock on my door. I threw on the silk short robe conveniently hanging from the hook on the back of the bathroom door, one more point for Abri, and answered.
Simon.
“Hi,” I said, my brow wrinkled in curiosity. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah,” he told me, “I wanted to say, while I have the opportunity in other words, while my mother’s not around, you’re in.”
“I’m in?”
“Yes, you’re in with us already. The guys took a vote and you’re in.”
“Guys?”
“Well, my dad and I.”
“And I’m in?”
“Yes.” He looked me up and down. “Why aren’t you dressed? We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”
The way he was so comfortable with me, I supposed I really was “in,” as he called it.
“I’m in a bit of a bind. The wrinkles in my dress won’t fall out.”
“Not a problem. Check the closet in your room. You should find a hand-held steamer.”
“Dammit! Two more points,” I gritted, my fist slapping an open palm.
“Huh?”
“Nothing. Thanks. I’ll be ready.”
I shut the door behind him.
The steamer was where he’d said it would be and it worked beautifully. The dress looked like I’d just picked it up from the store, maybe even better.
“Darn you, Abri Aberdeen, and your thoughtfulness,” I whispered to the steamer.
When I was done, I unplugged the steamer and returned it to its rightful place in the closet. I slipped on my dress and shoes, and spritzed myself with one of Abri’s assorted choices of flowery perfumes. I brought my wrist to my nose and inhaled. Apple, peach and tuberose filled my senses. It smelled beautiful and my lips quirked. I spritzed a little more behind my ears. I owed her big already, what was one more point?
I stood at the full-length mirror a little shocked at my own appearance. I hadn’t taken this much time getting myself ready in months and it was, needless to say, slightly disconcerting. I wasn’t sure if I liked what I saw in the mirror. My reflection looked a little too much like my old self and that made me uneasy.
I looked closer.
There are differences. My skin was tanner, my muscles even more toned, but the biggest difference was in my eyes. Before when I saw myself, they revealed nothing but hollow. They were empty. But now, now, they were full of life, full of understanding. Suddenly, I didn’t mind my own scrutiny. Suddenly, I saw a completely different person standing before me. Suddenly, I reflected love, hope and patience.
A knock on the door once again startled me. I grabbed my tiny pocketbook, checked my lip gloss one last time and swung it open to a breathtaking Ian.
“Jesus, Sophie Price,” he told me at once, raking his eyes from the top of my head to the tip of my toes and back again.
He entered the room and closed the door behind him. “I had no idea,” he told me, edging closer.
The toe of his shoes almost met mine and I wanted, no, needed him to swallow me whole. He was incredibly delectable, everything about him. I could feel his breath fan across my face as he examined me, could smell the spicy, clean scent of his soap, could practically count the hairs on his head. I searched his eyes and waited for it, waited for the declaration, but it never came. Say it, I silently begged.
I didn’t have time to be disappointed though because his hands found my bare shoulders instantly. They bit into my skin and pushed me a little away from him so he could soak up another look.
“Sophie Price, you are devastatingly beautiful.”
“Thank you. So are you,” I told him honestly.
He hadn’t heard me though. “I-I’m just-I knew you were beautiful, knew it so very well, but it’s like I just woke up to the idea. There’s something about you now, Soph. You exude something and I can’t quite place my finger on it. You practically glow with it. You devastate me,” he said, clutching at his heart.
I inched closer to him and rested my hand over his. “Thank you,” I told him.
“You’re welcome,” he said, smiling at me.
“No, you don’t understand, I’m not thanking you for the compliment, Ian. I’m thanking you for giving me the beauty you see.”
“I can’t take credit for that, Soph.”
I smiled at him and we stood quietly, our hands on one another as if we were both awakening to whatever it was that was surrounding us both then. It was written all over us. There was something practically tangible there, like a ray of sun, warming us through to our souls. You could see it, you could feel it, but you couldn’t quite capture it in your hands. That didn’t mean it wasn’t there though. Oh, it was there and it weighed a thousand delicious pounds.
I let that pressure inundate me, let it tether me to him.
Understanding. I was in love with Ian Aberdeen. So deeply, so incredibly. And it was true and it was sublime and it was mine.
Nothing could take that away from me and that was absolutely freeing to me. I owned that love. I chose it. I owed no one for it because it couldn’t have been purchased. It belonged to me free and clear. I had never felt more empowered.
Ian’s breathing deepened as he frantically searched my face. Say it. He had to have known. He had to have felt it as I did…but no words came.
A rap at the door came just as he’d begun to open his mouth and the moment died at our feet, never to resuscitate. It was gone and my heart tumbled beside it. I knew my expression was one of pain, of disappointment, because he furrowed his brows and slid his hands to my face, trying to force it to right. I was no longer going to mask myself. I was a different person from then on. Vulnerability was acceptable to me because it was real. He shook his head as another knock resounded.
He cleared his throat. “Co-Coming,” he spoke, still attempting to smooth my skin.
“We’ll be down at the cars,” Simon said and we heard his footsteps fade away.
Ian turned his head away from me and toward the door. “We can take my car, for privacy.”
I was hurt and no longer capable of hiding how I felt, so I turned toward the bathroom, feigning I needed something. “That’s fine,” an unfamiliar broken voice sounded from my lips.
I picked up the pocketbook I’d set down on the bed at some point and made my way toward the door.
“Soph,” Ian whispered, grabbing at my arm. I let him stop me, but I refused to face him.
“Yes, dear?” I said, trying to sound lighthearted.
“Don’t,” he begged.
I looked his way but still refused to turn. “Don’t, what?” I asked, a fake, polite smile plastered across my lips.
“We should talk,” he said.
I ignored that. “We should probably leave, Ian. I don’t want your mother hating me any more than she already does.”
I slipped my arm from his grip and opened the door, following the short corridor out into the living room and through the front door. I could feel Ian’s heavy presence right behind me, close yet so very far away. I wanted to run to him and away from him all at the same time. I was so confused. I loved him. I swore he loved me back, but he’d just stood there.
I descended down the winding pebble-paved drive and found my way to the cars. Standing beside them all was Ian’s family. I smiled at them despite my heavy heart.
“You’re a vision, Sophie,” Simon said, reaching for my hand and kissing my cheek.
“Very lovely,” Henrik added with a jovial smile.
I looked on Abri in her sleek black dress and met her gaze. “Very beautiful, Abri,” I told her sincerely. She simply nodded.
No one, from what I could tell, knew what had transpired between Ian and me in that room. No one, except for Abri. She studied me closely, then her son, and back to me. Her eyes narrowed on us both.
Henrik opened the passenger door of a silver Audi for Abri and she got in, her gaze still plastered on Ian and me. Simon let himself into the back of the sedan and Henrik walked to the driver’s side. I watched all of them before Ian’s hand found my lower back.
“I’m over here,” he whispered in my ear, sending shivers down my spine despite what had transpired.
He led me to a black Mercedes G-Class. “This is yours?” I asked him.
“Not really. It’s just the car I used when I lived here. My parents bought it.”
“I see.”
He opened my door for me and I slid in. I reached for my belt but he beat me to it, wrapping me with it and buckling me in. He kissed my neck unexpectedly, perplexing me, and shut the door.
“What was that?” I asked him when he got in on his side.
“What was what?” he asked, buckling himself in.
“The belt? The kiss?”
“I needed to do it, wanted to be close to you then, I guess.”
He shrugged his shoulders as if that explained it and started the engine, bracing his hand on my headrest as he backed out of the driveway. We followed his parents to Aubergine’s in silence. He never took his hand off the headrest and the warmth from his hand kept permanent butterflies fluttering. It felt bittersweet though because, at the same time, my heart pounded in hurt.
Just because he didn’t say he loved you doesn’t mean he doesn’t care, Sophie.
I was being a little bit pyscho. I knew it. It’s just, the whole love thing was new to me. I’d never loved anyone like I’d loved Ian before.
Cut yourself some slack then, but move on. Own your feelings but don’t expect reciprocation. Let that come if it comes.
I let the bitterness melt off my chest and slither to my feet.
“I couldn’t say it,” he blurted.
My head whipped his direction. “I know.”
“You don’t understand,” he said.
“I do,” I told him, resting my cheek against his hand.
He looked at me briefly and I tried to convey to him that there was no pressure. He turned back toward the road.
“No, you really, really don’t.” He took a deep breath. “The truth is, I’m so deep in love with you, I can’t see straight. The truth is, I’ve been afraid to admit it to myself, let alone you. The truth is, I’m terrified.”
“Why? Am I really so frightening?”
He smiled at me. “Shockingly so.”
“Ian.”
“You have no idea what you do to me. I’ve felt things for you these past few months that don’t seem healthy. I’ve wanted you so desperately I’m afraid it may not be natural. You consume my thoughts, Sophie,” he confessed, seemingly forgetting I was there. He spoke to the windshield, a sort of haze drifting over him. “You’ve arrested my senses and I can’t seem to get enough of you. That’s what scares me. I’m so deep there’s no getting out for me. You own me, you know?”
I fixed myself so I faced him. “No, I’m afraid I don’t, Ian. Embellish for me. Pretend I’m one of your students and I don’t comprehend the lesson. Go into great detail...painstaking detail,” I flirted, my heart pounding in my chest at his proclamation.
He fought a smile. “I don’t know why I opened this floodgate. I’m tired, that’s why, and you look so damn bewitching right now.” He sighed. “At Masego, the way you roll the sleeves up your forearms, highlighting your beautiful skin with the perfect wrists that meet those incredible hands. I’ve imagined those hands on me so many times,” he continued, shocking me and drifting further into his own thoughts.
“That might be when I first became aware. Possibly it’s the way your jeans hug your thighs every time you take a single step though. All I can think of when you’re around me are those damn legs, how they’d feel in my palms, how they’d feel wrapped around my waist.” He lightly tapped a fist against the wheel and I sat up a bit. “They’re distracting. Or maybe it’s when your hair is loose and wild and down your back. I’d give anything to see it across your bare shoulders,” he swallowed, “or coiled around my fists,” he declared. He shook his head back and forth slowly, eyes still trained on the road ahead. “It’s actually all those things,” he said suddenly, “but mostly I think it’s your face.”
I squirmed quietly in my seat, praying to God I didn’t break his seemingly unaware trance. My pulse beat erratically at the confession. I felt my throat dry, my stomach drop and it was everything I’d never experienced before but knew was exactly as it should have always felt. My hands gripped the leather beneath my fingers to keep from throwing themselves at him and wrapping themselves around his shoulders.
“Sophie Price, you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met,” he stated before turning my direction and staring me dead in the eyes. “You are so gosh damn beautiful in here,” he said, tapping my chest, “that what’s here,” he spoke, running the side of his hand down my face, “is magnified tenfold and that is a sight to behold.”
My mouth gaped open. I was at a complete loss for words, all rational thought had left, so I did the only thing I could think to do. I leaped across the seat and pulled the collar of his shirt toward me. The next second, I felt the SUV pull over and slam to a stop before being dragged onto Ian’s lap and he was exploring me with his mouth like no one ever had.
His hands found my neck and mine threaded through his hair. “Soph,” he whispered against my lips.
“Yes?” I asked, a smile tugging the corners of my mouth.
We kissed for God knows how long before he answered.
“Say it,” he asked, plucking my earlier plea right out of thin air.
“I love you,” I told him.
“Again,” he said, moving to my neck.
“I love you, Ian.”
“Again,” he asked, pulling my face away from him.
I looked at him, winded and twitterpated. “I’m in love with you, Ian Aberdeen.”
He attacked my lips with an unparalleled ferocity, swallowed my breath and tasted my tongue with his. I wrapped the crook of my arm around his neck to bring him closer, furiously melting my mouth with his and confusing where I started and he began.
“Mercy,” I said, briefly breaking contact before marrying my lips with his once more.
Suddenly his cell began to ring and we both groaned.
“Your parents,” I spoke into his mouth.
“Man, do you know how to spur a guy on or what?”
I laughed against his swollen lips. “Shut up. That’s them, has to be.”
“I don’t care,” he said, his hand searching the cupholder beside him for the phone. “Unless it’s Simon.”
We both turned to see it was, indeed, Simon.
“Hello?” he answered, smiling up at me. “Yeah, we got separated. We’ll be there soon.”
He pressed end and I sank back into my seat.
“To be continued,” he said, kissing my temple.
Aubergine felt like a continuation of Abri Aberdeen’s home. It screamed elegance and contemporary and there wasn’t a moment it didn’t make you painfully aware of yourself, of where you placed your hands, where you looked, what you said and even how you felt. If Aubergine was a person, it would be Abri Aberdeen.
“Welcome to Aubergine. Name?” a clearly uninterested young woman asked us. When she glanced up, though, her tune changed a little. She smiled at Ian.
“We’re here with another party,” Ian told him. “Aberdeen?”
Her eyes grew round as saucers. “Of course, pardon me for not recognizing you. This way,” she said, scurrying in front of us. “Again,” she said over her shoulder, “forgive me. I’m so sorry.”
“Not a big deal,” Ian told her, shrugging his shoulders.
The young girl led us up a flight of stairs that stemmed from the main dining room to the mezzanine. Ian’s family was the only seated there. The perks of being the executive mayor, I supposed.
An unexpected surprise awaited us when we finally met the table. Instead of the three Aberdeens, a fourth patron had joined the dinner. A young, exquisitely beautiful girl with butterscotch hair and bright blue eyes. She looked stunned and wide-eyed. Already, I’d decided to like her.
“If I were to guess,” I whispered Ian’s direction, “I believe this may be Simon’s topic of discussion.”
He nodded. “Strap yourself in, Sophie Price. I believe things are about to get unpredictable ’round here,” he said, his accent thicker than I’d heard it in a while.
Simon and Henrik stood when we approached the table. Ian held my chair out for me and I sat. The boys followed suit. We all sat quietly and awkwardly, awaiting something, anything to happen. Rather, we all stared at Abri on edge.
“You’re being rude, Simon,” Abri finally spoke. “Introduce your friend to Ian and Miss Price.”
Uh-oh. Not looking good.
Simon sighed audibly and pressed his lids closed for a moment before leaning into his date toward us. “Ian, Sophie, this is Imogen. Imogen, this is Ian and Miss Sophie Price.”
“A pleasure,” I smiled and offered my hand.
Imogen’s tense shoulders relaxed an infinitesimal amount and she took my extended hand, shaking it. “Nice to meet you as well.”
Simon presented his own hand and did the same.
Formalities over with, we all eyed Abri, but she gave no indication it was okay to speak. I astonished myself. I couldn't believe I was bending to this ridiculous woman and her outrageous intimidation. I decided to ignore her. She already felt insane disdain toward me, what further damage could I possibly do?
I turned Imogen’s direction. “You’re English,” I stated with a smile. “What part do you hail from?”
“Manchester,” she said, smiling back, her shoulders relaxing another inch. “Have you ever been?”
“I have,” I told her. “It’s lovely there.”
“You’re kind,” she laughed.
“I actually stayed in Chester,” I corrected.
“Oh, yes, it’s very charming there.”
“Agreed,” I said, taking a sip of my water.
I took the opportunity to study the table and noticed an almost too well put together Abri staring our direction. I smiled softly as if I was unaware she was secretly seething inside before turning back Imogen’s way.
“What brings you to Cape Town?” I asked her.
“Simon does,” she said, laughing. “We attended graduate school at Oxford together.”
“Really?” I asked, leaning her direction more, her shoulders relaxed another inch. “How did you meet?”
“In our Stochastic Analysis class,” she said before looking at Simon.
“Goddard!” they said in unison before breaking into laughter.
It died quickly when Abri cleared her throat before taking a sip of her own water.
“Fascinating,” I said, turning toward Ian. “You never told me Simon went to Oxford.”
“Simon went to Oxford, Sophie.”
I rolled my eyes. The table seemed to be getting more comfortable by the moment. Imogen’s shoulders were almost completely at ease and Ian placed his arm on the back of my chair. Henrik and the four of us continued with our conversation until the waiter took our drink orders.
“We’ll have four glasses of your best red,” Abri ordered.
“Oh, just bring the bottle,” Henrik said.
Abri’s hand rested on her husband’s. “Henrik,” she said, tossing her eyes my direction.
Imogen looked at me, but I just rolled my eyes and shook my head. She nodded in understanding.
Henrik narrowed his gaze at his wife then back at the waiter. “Bring the bottle,” he said, handing him the wine menu.
When the waiter walked away, Abri sat up in her chair. “Why don’t you just come out with it, Simon?”
The entire table got quiet.
Simon cleared his throat and took Imogen’s hand underneath the table. “All right. Mom? Dad? Imogen and I are going to be wed.”
I knew it! This news made me giddy inside. I narrowly escaped my own beheading though when Ian stayed me with a hand to my shoulder, preventing me from shouting the congratulations balanced at the tip of my tongue.
Abri quietly lifted her napkin from her lap and laid it across her plate. I guessed correctly that was a bad sign.
“And you thought bringing me here would be the perfect venue for such an announcement?”
Simon sank in his chair, running a hand over his face. “This is hardly the end of the world, Mother. Most people rejoice when their children announce their engagement.”
Abri leaned in closer toward him, balancing herself over the table. “We are not most people,” she gritted between teeth.
“Lovely impression you’re giving our Sophie.”
I subtly shook my head at him. A silent Don’t bring me into this!
“Maybe I should go,” I said, when Abri’s chilling stare sank through me.
I made an attempt to get up, but she locked me in place with a single look.
“No, it would be blasted all over the papers tomorrow if you left our table before we’d even gotten our wine.”
“What?” I asked.
“You seem to be under a mistaken impression. Look around you, Miss Price. There are two paparazzi waiting by the valet as well as a Cape Times journalist in the main dining hall.”
“I see,” I said, not looking to rock the boat. I sat back in my chair, placing my napkin in my lap once more.
“Yes, so even though I’m loathe to have you privy to my family’s discussion, one that, I might add, could be extremely damaging if leaked,” she drilled me with another disparaging look, “you stay.”
“Staying. Got it,” I said, sinking into my chair.
Abri faced Simon once more. “Why now?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “Your half a term away from graduating. Why now?” she repeated.
“Because I love her and I don’t want to wait,” he stated as fact.
I barely bit my “aww” back.
“Something’s amiss,” she said, her nails tapping at the stem of her water glass, the only sign she wasn’t completely in check of her emotions.
Imogen fidgeted in her chair, glancing down at her lap, avoiding eye contact.
Uh-oh.
Simon’s jaw clenched. “I know what you’re implying.”
“And?” Abri asked, considering an obviously nervous Imogen.
“Not that one has anything to do with the other but, yes, Imogen is expecting,” Simon said, dropping the bombshell like he was announcing it would rain on Tuesday. “The only influence that had on my decision was when we would marry, not if.”
Yowza. And aww.
This time even Henrik lost his ever-present “It’s all good” facial expression.
“Not again,” Abri said, falling into the back of her chair.
I turned toward Ian and his face was devoid of color. I placed my hand within his, reminding him I was there. He squeezed my fingers.
“She’s only six weeks right now, Mom,” Simon continued. “We can marry at an undisclosed location and soon. We were thinking somewhere tropical, give the impression we’ve been planning a secret wedding for months. No one will think differently since Imogen has been a fixture in my life for more than two years. In fact, they’ll be expecting it. And in a couple of months, we announce her pregnancy.”
“Well, you’ve thought it all out, haven’t you, son? It’s all nice and tidy, isn’t it? Except you forgot one thing.”
“What?”
“Re-elections are this month and it would need to be immediate. No one would believe we were planning a wedding this close to the end of my campaign.”
“Jesus, Mom. You know what? You’re right. Let’s wait. Yes, we’ll wait and announce it when Imogen is showing and then you’ll really have a scandal on your hands. Listen, we’re only doing this for you because we don’t want to compromise your career. If it were up to us, we’d wait until school was done and the baby was born, then wed in London at the church Imogen grew up in.”
“Do you expect me to be grateful?” Abri whisper-yelled, startling Imogen. “God, this is Ian all over again.”
“Abri,” Henrik said, “enough.”
“It’s,” she began, but Henrik silenced her with a hand on hers.
“I said, enough, Abri.”
Abri looked appropriately chagrined and it made me have a little more respect for Henrik. He wasn’t quite the easy pushover I’d first thought he was. The table got quiet once more when the waiter brought our drinks and took our entree orders.
The meals had arrived and still not a word had been spoken. Surprisingly, none of us were that hungry and we all pushed our food around our plates.
I cleared my throat, inciting the potential ire of Abri, but I didn’t care. “My father’s company owns an island,” I announced to the table. “I can offer you discretion.”