Chapter Five
The satin dress laced up tight in a corset-style bodice with heavy red embroidery on the black fabric. It made her feel exciting and dangerous; at least it had until the people started arriving. Then the bodice felt too tight, not letting her lungs expand. At previous parties she had attended in the Durant mansion, Adela would introduce her to a few people and she would chat with them for a bit before excusing herself. This time, however, the people came to her, all gushing their congratulations.
She didn't recognize a single one of them, but they all acted like they were old friends. Worst of all were the women who insisted on hugging her and telling her how lucky she was to have Isaias. She wanted to tell them to just not touch her, but what sort of reaction would she get from that?
It was more than she could take and she didn't even dare try any of the delicious-looking dessert for fear of what the people around her would think. And what if they had cameras and snapped a picture of her stuffing her face? Nope. That wasn't going to happen.
It didn't help that Isaias had left her on her own. She had, foolishly, expected that they would stay together the whole time, his arm around her waist, anchoring her to his side. He'd take care of all the talking and all she'd have to do was smile and agree with him. That, unfortunately, hadn't happened. Shortly after the party had gotten into full swing, he had been pulled away and she had been left alone.
Just concentrate on how you feel. Physical symptoms. Shaking hands? She clutched a glass and couldn’t tell if she was shaking without being obvious. Okay, so twisting stomach in a mix of anxiety and hunger. Skin feels cold. I keep losing focus in the conversations and yet hear what people are saying around me when they're not talking to me…
"Rebecca! Darling." Finally a familiar face. Becky smiled at her publisher, Jane, as she approached. Jane's eyes were positively sparkling. She embraced the writer and pulled back, beaming. "This is exciting, isn't it?"
"Yes." Becky tried to make her smile seem genuine. "Isaias has a lot of friends."
"Not the party. You're getting married. To such a handsome man, too. What a catch."
"Well, yes." Becky sipped at the champagne to give herself something to do. "Isaias and I are very happy."
"Not as happy as I am." Jane clapped her hands and rubbed them together while making evil-villain chuckling noises. "We've seen a significant increase of sales in all your books since the announcement."
Sales? Becky clutched her glass tighter. Jane was talking about book sales?
"Preorders for your next one are through the roof. You, my dear, are bringing in more than enough to pay for your wedding. And just think; sales will only increase once you're married. Are you pregnant? Being pregnant would be huge. Although, I bet what will give us the biggest profit is when you get your divorce."
Becky choked. The champagne came out her nose, leaving her with a burning agony in her sinuses. She coughed, grasping her chest as her lungs squeezed rapidly. When she finally was able to pull in enough air to talk, she glared at Jane.
"What was that about? We're not getting divorced."
"It was a joke." Jane patted her back nervously. "Are you okay? Here, let me get you some napkins."
"No, thank you. I'll go clean up myself."
She set her champagne down for the catering staff to pick up and managed to make her way through the crowds to the bathroom. Her hands shook as she mopped herself up. While the liquid didn't show too badly on the dark fabric, her scowl was all too plain to see. What a rude, insensitive thing to say!
So what if this wasn't real? Jane didn't know that. For all she knew, Isaias and Becky were getting married for real, they were madly in love, and she was talking about them getting a divorce before they were even married. What was it with some people and their refusal to let anybody else be happy?
There was a knock on the door.
"Becky, they're waiting for you." It was Adela.
"One minute."
She took a deep breath, not looking at herself in the mirror. It was going to be okay. After the speeches, she could feign illness or something and escape home. She forced a smile onto her face and stepped out. Immediately Adela wrapped an arm around her and dragged her back through the hotel ballroom. People pressed in, smiling, patting her, making her stomach roil.
Don't touch me!
She forced a smile on her face as she climbed onto a small stage to stand beside Isaias. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her tight against him, but it didn't anchor her like she was hoping. She didn't catch anything he was saying, concentrating on keeping a smile on her face. Her eyes burned and she fought the urge to start crying.
Then the glasses were being rung and people were shouting at them to kiss. Becky's chest seized. Isaias turned her towards him and she tried to convey with her eyes that she didn't want to kiss in front of this crowd. Strangers. Even the people she sort of knew were strangers.
Isaias must have seen her panic because he paused.
"Kiss! Kiss!"
She glanced at the crowd in a panic before deciding it was best if they just got this over with.
The crowd laughed and cheered when she launched herself at Isaias. Her eyes were closed the whole time and there was no soft tenderness like when they practiced their kissing. Their teeth knocked together, catching her lip in their way and ending with a painful pinch. She laughed, the sound almost hysterical, as they parted.
She snagged another glass of champagne and drank it far too quickly and since her throat was so dry she got another one. The bubbles went straight to her head, making her unsteady on her feet along with everything else. People kept pressing in on her and the alcohol wasn't helping her feel better about it.
Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore and rushed back to the bathroom. She locked the door and collapsed onto the floor, sobbing. Well, if nothing else this little experiment had proven why there could never be anything for real between her and Isaias. He glided through the crowd like an elvish king, full of dignity and grace.
Her? She couldn't get through one measly party without falling apart.
Eventually, Isaias knocked on the bathroom door. She hesitated before letting him in, wiping her eyes as she did so. He pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest, as he shut the door.
"Does everybody know about my breakdown?" she mumbled, burying her face into him.
"No."
She didn't believe him.
"What's wrong? Becky?" He tilted her face to his.
She shook her head. "I'm just being silly. I'm sorry for ruining the party."
Isaias brushed her tears away with such tenderness that it only brought more. "You didn't ruin anything. Talk to me. Please."
"It's the crowd," she mumbled. "Too many people."
"I know what you mean."
"You do?" Her eyes widened. "But you're always throwing parties!"
Isaias shrugged. "There are certain expectations that come with being rich. Doesn't mean I enjoy it. Wanna blow this party and go home?"
Becky sagged against him in relief. "Yes. More than anything."
Isaias chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before he grabbed a towel and wetted it to wipe her eyes. While she was cleaning herself up, he found Adela and told her what was happening. Soon enough they were out of there, in Isaias' convertible with the top down and the cool air washing away the rest of Becky's tears.
He actually carried her upstairs. She giggled when he picked her up and didn't stop until he put her down. An exciting thought rushed through her mind and she turned her back to him. "I can't get out of this by myself. Adela had to help me get dressed. Can you help me get undressed?"
After a moment, Isaias' huge hands unlaced her. The release of tension made her moan and she leaned into his hands as he continued on. When the bodice was unlaced she let the dress fall to the ground. The slip she had worn under it was perfectly modest… or at least as modest as the nightdress she had been wearing when she had unintentionally moved in.
Becky turned, a sly smile on her face. "You think I’m beautiful, right?"
Isaias looked past her head. "Yes. I should—"
"But am I sexy? I've never felt sexy. But I think I do right now." She put her hands on her hips and pushed out her chest to make her breasts pop.
Her fake-husband-to-be glanced down. His gaze heated when it landed on her breasts and he made a strangled noise. It was enough for her and she threw herself at him, lifting her face to his. Except he stepped back and instead of kissing him like she meant, she stumbled and nearly did a face-plant. Isaias caught and steadied her.
"Yes. You are sexy. Incredibly sexy. But you're also drunk."
Becky shook her head. "I feel fine."
"Regardless, you drank three glasses of champagne on an empty stomach. If you want to do this, you have to wait until you're sober." He gave her a wry smile. "We don't want regrets."
Becky wrinkled her nose. "I'm not brave enough when I'm sober."
"Then it's not something we should do." Isaias unhitched her bra and led her to the bed.
"Wait. I thought you said we weren't gonna."
Isaias smiled. "Did you want to sleep in that?"
A shake of the head answered him.
"I can stay with you tonight if you want… but cuddling is as far as we go."
Becky sighed, but cuddling was better than nothing. She collapsed onto the bed, thinking that the only reason Isaias was sticking around was to make sure she didn't end up choking on her vomit or something. He laid down behind her, fitting against her perfectly. She snuggled back into his arms, liking how warm they felt around her.
His breath wafted over the back of her neck. "Goodnight, sexy lady."
Becky closed her eyes, thinking about how it would feel to be this way without anything between them. Just skin on skin. The image made her core tighten and heat flare in her belly but quickly enough, the doubts started to settle in. He wasn't kissing her because she was drunk? Or was it because he didn't actually want to? And he was only staying to make sure she didn't choke and die… he was lying when he said she was sexy…
Stop it. Becky shook her head and wiggled herself deeper into his arms. He doesn't have to do any of this. If he says I'm sexy, then I'm sexy.
She really needed to work on her self-esteem. It was high time the damage done to her by her upbringing started to heal. And maybe it wouldn't go away all at once but she was her own worst enemy, always setting herself up for failure by not believing in herself. She was a best-selling author, dammit, what else did she need? As far as being sexy… she didn't need a man to tell her she was worth it. She was worth it no matter what anybody said.
But, she had to admit as she drifted off to sleep, it does feel nice to have somebody else tell me that I'm beautiful… and sexy.