Stop That Wedding!
Chapter 2
The doorbell rang; Zenith jumped with a tiny shriek. Reprimanding herself for being
so reactive, she stood up to answer the summons, then stopped in mid-stride: what if it
were another strange delivery? What if it were sleazy lingerie or a dirty movie, or
heaven forbid, some sex toys? She shuddered at the thought. No, she’d stay right
here, thank you, and let whoever it was simply go away. Sitting herself back down on
the floor, she stared at the door with maudlin intensity, as if by sheer willpower she
could once more put her world back on its axis.
The doorbell rang again; Zenith tensed momentarily then scolded herself. It wasn’t as
if the person had a key to her apartment, now was it?
Buffy’s growl at the sound of jangling keys and the scraping of one being inserted
stole away her laughter. Besides the cleaning service and the dog walker, there was
only one person who possessed a key to her condo: her sister, Luna.
Oh, no! She suddenly realized that she was sitting in the middle of a bunch of
condoms! That wasn’t what she wanted her baby sister to see! Bouncing onto her
feet, she grasped the offending arrangement and sprinted into the kitchen. There was
no cupboard large enough to fit the gaudy bouquet. She tossed the entire mess, vase
and all, into the sink with a clatter. Then she covered the sink with a towel.
She dashed back out into the living room, gathering up all the tissue paper and the
card. The door opened and in a rush of adrenaline she shoved the paper mass under
a leather sofa cushion – then sat on it.
“Zenith?” Luna’s strawberry blond head peered around the edge of the antique oak
door; spotting her sister, she entered with a smile, reaching down to pet the madly
capering Pomeranian. One look at her older sister, though, stopped her in her tracks.
She stared at Zenith, who was perched on the edge of the couch, afraid to breathe in
case the paper underneath her made a telltale crackle. Zenith knew her face was
flushed and her eyes were wide with nervousness. Luna eyed her suspiciously.
“Are you okay? You didn’t answer when I rang the doorbell. I heard about the trouble
at the salon, and I was worried about you.” Luna had recently turned sixteen and was
spreading her wings. She was a vision in a light pink floral sundress, with her straight
silken tresses pulled up into a jaunty Ponytail perched high on her head. With her new
shiny black sports car given to her by her parents, she loved to come and hide out at
Zenith’s when her family life became too stressful. Luna was someone Zenith never
quite figured out and never tired of.
Zenith smiled a bit too brightly and forced a laugh past her stiff lips. “Of course I’m
fine! I was just relaxing before the fitting this afternoon.” Forgetfully she shifted her
bottom; a fit of coughing was her attempt to cover up the loud papery rustling that
answered her movements.
“O-kaay,” Luna muttered, giving her sister a skeptical look. “Ummm.... would it be
okay if I borrow your black silk blouse for tonight? We’re going to the new teen club
and I don’t have anything that’s quite right.”
Normally Zenith hated loaning her clothes to her sister. They usually came back
stained or missing a button, or worse, she never saw the item again. Right now her
bigger concern was hiding the remnants of Chadwick’s strange behavior.
“Sure,” she replied, with a bit more perkiness than she’d intended. Luna took
advantage of her momentary lapse and streaked towards her bedroom. When she was
out of sight, Zenith heaved a sigh of relief and leapt from the couch. Digging the tissue
paper out, she charged into the kitchen and ditched the noisy wrapping into the
garbage under the sink.
Relaxing considerably, she reached into the refrigerator and poured glasses of
lemonade for her sister and herself, placing them on a tray. Straws, a few cookies on a
plate and some grapes finished the small snack. She carried the tray out into the living
room, Buffy tagging at her feet happily.
Luna stood in the middle of the room, a vividly colored packet dangling from her
fingers. “What is this?” she asked, her tones reproachful. Zenith’s heart stopped and
her mouth turned to sawdust.
It was the condom she’d dropped earlier.
Random excuses went through her head, but they all sounded lame, almost as bad as
telling her the truth: that her previously mild and undemanding fiancé was now showing
all signs of being a sex addict! Her mouth opened, but nothing brilliant and face-
saving erupted. Instead, she snapped her jaw shut sharply. Setting the tray on the
coffee table, she snatched the foil package from her sister’s hand.
Her face flaming, she avoided Luna’s gaze. “Never mind,” she muttered. Shoving the
repugnant object in her pocket, she flounced down on the couch. Her sister giggled at
her but she determinedly schooled her features to show no reaction.
She sipped her drink, dark thoughts about what she would do to Chadwick
entertaining her. She was damned if she was going to present him with a ‘petal’. The
very next time she saw him, she would put him straight. There would be no –
No what? No sex? Her face went blank. Was that how she imagined her future with
Chadwick? Was the thought of having sex with him so abhorrent that she would chew
him out over his mere suggestion that they explore that side of their relationship? Or
was she just a cold fish?
“Zenith.” With a start, Zenith snapped her head towards her sister. Perched on the
edge of the immense sofa, with a glass in one hand and a cookie in another, Luna was
staring at her speculatively. “Gee, where were you? You had the strangest look on
your face, like you just smelled something rotten!”
“Did I?” An interesting observation, Zenith thought pensively. That the mere idea of
sex with Chadwick would make her reel with distaste was not something she wanted to
discuss with her sister, however. Instead, she changed the subject.
She glanced at her watch, and feigning distress, she declared, “I need to go if I’m
going to be on time for the fitting.” She slanted a look at Luna. “Would you like to go
with me? I’m meeting Chadwick for lunch; you can join us.”
Luna’s lip curled. “I’ll skip the lunch, but I’d love to go to the fitting. I haven’t seen the
dress yet.”
Zenith grinned. “Actually, I haven’t seen it finished, so this will be a treat for both of
us!”
As the two grabbed their purses, Zenith didn’t see the slim book that Luna slipped into
hers.
^^^^^^^
“Brad! What a wonderful surprise!” Lydia Somersbee Pearce smiled as her stepson
walked into her exclusive Nob Hill shop. She crossed the plush cream carpet and
wrapped her slender arms around him, planting a kiss on his tanned cheek.
Brad returned the hug. “I thought I’d take my favorite Mama out for lunch, if you have
the time.” He smiled in admiration at the beautiful outfit she wore as he twirled her
laughingly about. The soft green gauze vest and matching slacks were complimented
with a white silk shell and a pair of strappy sandals that helped hide the fact that Brad’s
stepmother barely topped five feet. Her hair, the signature Somersbee pale blond, was
cut in a short bob that swirled about her face. Lydia didn’t look her sixty years, and with
her warm, sunny personality was usually mistaken for much younger.
She kissed his cheek fondly. “I would love to have lunch with you, but I already have a
date.” She smiled behind her, and her brother emerged from the back of the shop,
grinning broadly.
“Uncle Chauncy! You’re getting around a lot today.”
“I am, aren’t I?” Chauncy laughed. “You’re welcome to join us,” he offered.
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“Oh, nonsense, you – Zenith, darling! And Luna!” Chauncy beamed as his two
granddaughters entered the shop, Buffy held gently in Zenith’s arms. At the sight of
Brad, the little animal squirmed to be free. Zenith set her down with a frown.
“Fine, you fickle little beast,” she glowered as the dog ran straight to Brad.
Straightening up, she smiled brilliantly at her aunt and grandfather, pointedly ignoring
Brad Pearce. Her senses, however, picked up every nuance of him in a stolen glance:
the slight stubble on his chin that was so sexy, the way his shoulders strained at the
jacket, the impish smile that promised so much. She contained a stab of longing.
Pulling herself together, she turned her attention to her aunt. “Aunt Lydia, you look so
beautiful in that outfit.”
Her great-aunt beamed at her. “Thank you, darling.” She smiled at her other niece.
“Luna, sweetheart, you are so pretty with your hair up like that; you look so whimsical.”
She kissed both girls’ cheeks.
“Zenith, love, you need to try the dress on quickly. I have two handsome men who
want to take me to lunch, and I don’t want to keep them waiting.” She grinned cheekily
at the men.
“Girls, we’re going to lunch after the fitting. Why don’t you join us?” Chauncy looked
at the girls for agreement.
“Oh, I can’t, Grandpapa,” Zenith countered, not liking the idea of spending any more
time with Brad, especially after the hair fiasco. “I have a date with Chadwick after the
fitting. At Top of the World.” The exclusive restaurant was Chadwick’s favorite place to
eat.
“Yes, she has a very hot date with Chadwick.” Luna smiled knowingly at her sister,
and Zenith felt heat creeping over her face. She could tell by Luna’s smirk that she was
remembering the condom she’d found in Zenith’s apartment.
She forced her features back into their normal cool composure and spared her sibling
a hard glance camouflaged by a terse smile. “It’s not a hot date at all,” she demurred,
feeling Brad’s razor-sharp eyes on her heated skin.
“Oh, come on, Princess,” he mocked, leaning towards her, his voice for her ears only.
“I can’t imagine a man spending time with you and not getting hot.” His breath fanned
her ear and she barely suppressed a shiver of reaction. He smelled of aftershave and
spice; a scintillating combination that would soon fill her dreams, she was certain.
The glare she gave him could freeze a solar flare, but Brad seemed unfazed. “I am
sure that anything with breasts and legs has that affect on you, but Chadwick’s a true
gentleman!”
“Zenith!” Lydia exclaimed, her mouth rounded in shock.
She’d forgotten they weren’t alone; shamefaced, she closed her eyes briefly. “Sorry,
Aunt Lydia.”
“He must be gay, then, if you don’t turn him on.” Brad grinned wickedly. Zenith felt
her cheeks flame at his words.
“Brad!” A chorus of voices attacked him. His cheeky grin declared his lack of remorse.
It was all Zenith could do to not drop her jaw open and stare at Brad. Did he just say
he found her attractive? Oh my.... She’d waited half her life to hear those words, and
now it was too late. But if was truly too late, part of her argued, then why was her pulse
fluttering and her knees threatening to crumple? Why was his mere scent giving her
butterflies? And why were her palms itching to touch him, to see how that stubble about
his mouth would feel against her skin?
“Zenith! You look much better!”
Cringing at the familiar voice, Zenith turned to see Tiffany emerging from the back,
resplendent in a white wedding gown. The style suited her; it was cunningly tucked
and shaped to enhance her small bust line and emphasize her slender waist. Zenith
thought she was striking.
“You look great, Tiffany.” She forced a smile on her lips.
“I saw your dress back there, Zen,” the other bride-to-be bubbled. “It's so gorgeous!
Of course, it would have clashed with blue.” She giggled, swirling in front of the triple
mirror while eyeing the movement of the skirt around her slender legs.
Lydia looked at Tiffany in confusion. “Blue? Are you wearing something blue for the
wedding, dear? I was going to loan you an antique lace hankie to pin on the inside of
your skirt; you don’t need to display it.” Tiffany laughed, and Zenith narrowed her eyes
angrily at her nemesis.
“Never mind, Aunt Lydia. I’ll fill you in later.”
“Miss Somersbee, we’re ready for you.” Angela, Lydia’s indispensable assistant,
stood in the doorway, waiting expectantly. Zenith sliced one more glare at Tiffany’s
back, then walked into the fitting room, Luna close behind. Buffy, the ungrateful
creature, didn’t leave Brad’s feet.
Zenith’s ire melted as she caught sight of the gown. She'd only seen the designer's
sketches, and swatches of fabric. Now it was complete, displayed in all its glory on a
mannequin in the center of the large fitting room.
The dress, in a soft peach rum silk, was what fairy tales were made of. The strapless
bodice was decorated with delicate hand-dyed cabbage rose lace, which was
embellished with crystals, pearls and shimmering silver threads picking up the gorgeous
vine and rose pattern. The back was cut low in a corset style. The bodice ended in a
vee at the waist, with delicate vines of pearls and crystals leading into a modified
a-line tulle skirt. A sweep train repeated the lace and the embroidered rose and vine
pattern. She touched the skirt in wonder; it exceeded her wildest expectations.
“Oh, Zenith,” Luna breathed, “It’s a vision! It looks like something a royal princess
would wear! All it needs is a sash and tiara.” Turning to her sister in determination,
Luna twirled her around and unzipped her dress. “I can’t wait to see it on you!”
Instead of protesting, Zenith caught her excitement and stripped down to her bra and
panties. She’d donned the proper bra earlier: it was strapless and designed for
dresses that cut low in the back. Angela and Luna slipped the dress carefully over her
head. As Luna zipped it up, Angela brought her the dainty glass and crystal slippers.
Slipping them on her feet, Zenith gazed ahead into the mirror.
The woman staring back at her was beautiful, far lovelier than she’d ever hoped to
be. The dress emphasized her straight back, her tiny waist and the faint swell of her
hips. The bodice clung to her like a lover, cupping her breasts to create the perfect
amount of cleavage. The soft color accented the pale creaminess of her skin, and the
sparkle from the beads mirrored the glow in her eyes.
Luna’s usually jaded expression filled with awe. “You are so.... incredible, I don’t know
what to say!” Her eyes, the same deep green as her sister’s, were suspiciously shiny.
Grasping her sister’s hand, she dragged her towards the front of the shop. “Come on!
Grandpapa and Aunt Lydia are dying to see you!”
Before Zenith could protest, she was whisked out to where she didn’t want to go. Brad
was there, and for some indefinable reason, him viewing her in her wedding dress just
felt wrong. But she was thrust through the doorway and into the main parlor before she
could squawk a feeble, “Wait...”
The occupants of the room turned to stare at her. She stopped, color tingeing her
cheeks as she looked from one face to another.
Her grandfather’s mouth was open, as if he couldn’t believe the beautiful woman
before him was his own Zenith. Lydia’s gaze was one of admiration and delight. She
murmured something that Zenith didn’t hear and headed towards her office.
Brad.... His dark eyes glittered with an emotion she was afraid to recognize. He stood
still as a statue as his gaze raked over her from the glittering glass shoes to the tender
strain of her breasts against the fitted fabric. She became resentful as his eyes
lingered on her shoulders, then her lips. When his intense probe met her glittering
green protest, her world suddenly tilted on its axis.
What she saw in his eyes was pure...need. Blatant, unhidden demand for her. A
deep hunger flamed inside her, full-blown and more intense than anything she’d ever
experienced. Her heart thudded loudly as her senses devoured him, from the way his
lips part to the pulse throbbing at the base of his throat.
His hand lifted even though he was too far away to touch her, yet she could feel his
fingers on her as surely as a caress. Her breath caught in her throat as his desire
tingled across her skin, then sank straight to her soul. Heat raged through her, and
she tried to pull her captured gaze away, but the edges of his mouth curved upwards,
and she started to imagine how those lips would feel over hers, hot and hungry....
She felt hands touching her hair, startling her. Tearing herself from Brad’s searing
influence, she looked at her image in the mirror.
Lydia had returned, settling a diamond tiara on her hair. It curled becomingly, an
enchanting effect of antique gold metal and sparkling gems. The result was fetching
and romantic. As her great-aunt carefully clasped the antique necklace about her
throat, Zenith knew that she’d never looked better.
Or felt more alone and confused.
Her hand traveled to the necklace and fingered the cold metal. She could see her
movements in the mirror, yet somehow it wasn’t her; it didn’t feel quite real. The brief
‘encounter’ with Brad unnerved her. Could a woman truly happy with her intended
react in such a manner with another man? Was there something wrong with her when
the thought of making love to Chadwick repulsed her, yet she’d responded so strongly
to a mere look from her old enemy?
She couldn’t deny what had just happened. Her pulse still pounded out of control and
she could feel desire coiled deep within her, demanding to be satisfied.
She forced a smile on her lips as she met her aunt’s gaze. “Oh, Lydia, it’s all so
lovely. I feel like Cinderella and you’re my fairy godmother.” She pressed a kiss to the
woman’s cheek. “Thank you so much.”
Her aunt beamed. “You look so enchanting, darling. I must say that Beverly outdid
herself on this gown.”
“Oh, Zenith, that's lovely!” Zenith whirled to see Tiffany. Angela entered behind her,
pins and tape in hand to start measuring Zenith. Her other hand held Tiffany’s gown,
covered in plastic, with a small slip stating the alterations needed pinned to the plastic.
She hung it on a rack behind the small counter, then crossed to where Zenith stood.
Mustering up a smile, Zenith said, “Thanks, Tiffany. You looked wonderful in yours as
well.”
Tiffany didn’t pull her gaze from Zenith’s gown. “You're so lucky to snag this. I tried,
but she told me she was too busy to design another wedding gown this year, and I know
I asked her before you were even engaged. It must be nice to have family
connections.” She grinned at Lydia, and her words held no malice, only minor envy.
“Yes, it does help to be in the business. But actually I’d ordered this dress for the
shop, Tiffany. Zenith was merely lucky that it wasn’t spoken for when she talked to me
about her gown.”
“Yes, she really was,” Tiffany replied wistfully. “But luck has always been with her,
Lydia.” She smiled at the other bride-to-be, wiggled her fingers as she left the shop.
Zenith gazed after her. That was the friendliest she’d been in years, and she wasn’t
sure what to make of it. She turned her attention instead to Angela, who was busy
measuring, tucking and tweaking the fit of the gown. Although she allowed her
concentration to drift after a few moments, she stoically kept her eyes averted from
Brad’s too-hot gaze.
Soon Zenith went to change. Her aunt and grandfather were waiting for her to
accompany her to the restaurant, say hello to Chadwick, and then make a discreet
retreat. Somehow the thought of Brad and her fiancé together deepened her
discomfort.
When she emerged, her great-aunt and sister converged on her, full of ideas and
opinions. Their exuberance quickly lifted her mood. She’d felt just a momentary lapse
into doubt, that was all. Once she saw Chadwick and experienced his comforting
presence, everything would be all right.
Brad opened the door for the trio, and arm in arm the women swept outside. Angela
waved goodbye. Buffy was in her arms; she loved to dog sit for Zenith, and did so
frequently without protest. After the women and Brad left, she went into the back of the
store to tidy up.
Chauncy, however, lingered behind. After the others were out of sight, he looked
about him. Assured he was alone, he crossed to the two wedding gowns hanging on
the rack. Carefully unpinning each alteration order, he deliberately re-pinned Zenith’s
measurements to Tiffany’s dress, and Tiffany’s measurements to Zenith’s exquisite
gown. With only a slight twinge of remorse, he followed after his family.
^^^^^^
Chadwick Chalmers stood up from the table as the cheerful group entered. With his
yellow blond hair and bronze tan, he reminded Brad of a golden god. All flash and little
substance. Even his brilliant white smile was too perfect for Brad’s taste. He’d never
cared much for the man, considering all the years he’d been sniffing around Zenith.
Since the engagement, however, Brad’s derision for the man had only intensified.
He didn’t want to think why. He was still recovering from his reaction to Zenith in her
wedding finery. The admiration he’d expected. She’d always been beautiful; he couldn’
t remember a time when she hadn’t awed him with her loveliness. What had blown him
away was the deep need that caught him unaware, and the feeling of wrongness about
the whole situation. His anger grew as he thought of her wearing that incredible gown
while walking down the aisle to that nerveless pug Chalmers.
She shouldn’t be marrying him. Hostility roiled in his stomach at the sight of her
accepting a kiss from that weasel. Standing back from the group, silent and fuming, he
attempted to understand his reaction to her engagement and upcoming nuptials.
Of all the Somersbees, Zenith was the one who’d held a special place in his heart. He
still remembered meeting her, when Lydia had brought hi, a gangly teenager, to a
family party and introduced him as her new son. The frozen faces that stared back at
him were mind numbing. Then a slim figure had slipped from the stiff crowd. She’d
already shown promise of the beauty to come, even at the age of ten. When her hand
slipped into his and she looked up at him with a welcoming smile, offering to show him
the tennis courts and the pool, he knew such a feeling of welcome that he could still
remember the warmth.
From then on, he’d always made time for the girl, no matter what. That was the
standard until she went away to that boarding school. When she’d returned, he couldn’
t find any remnant of his friend. All that remained was a hostile stranger, slashing him
with cold stares. Zenith was gone, and he didn’t know how to find her any more.
Why should he feel so strongly now? Was it because he knew that somewhere under
those designer clothes and perfectly coifed head there lived the spirit of the young girl
he’d loved so much? Or was it that somehow he still felt she was his?
The thought shattered him. He didn’t want to desire Zenith Somersbee. He shouldn’t
feel anything for her but cool regard. Instead, the sight of her in that dress earlier
brought out desires in him he been unprepared for: the need to hold her, to caress her,
to rip that damned symbol of another man’s ownership off her and make her his.
It wasn’t right.
Leaving behind the charming family scene before him, he stalked into the bar and
ordered a martini on the rocks. Normally a non-drinker, one sounded good right now.
He wasn’t surprised when Chauncy joined him a few minutes later to fetch drinks.
“Doesn’t seem right,” the older man groused. “It’s like throwing pearls before swine.”
Brad didn’t pretend to misunderstand him. His uncle’s thoughts mirrored his own so
well.
“Well, not much we can do at this point, is there?”
“There’s no wedding ring on her finger yet, son. Until then, there’s time.” His drinks
arrived, and he sipped at his soda. “I’ll keep hoping until that dark day.” Standing up,
he clinked his glass against Brad’s. “Cheers.” Downing the rest of his soda, he
slammed the glass on the bar then stalked off.
Sighing, Brad followed him. Lydia and Luna were waiting at a table for them. Zenith
and Chadwick were happily ensconced at their own little table, gazing into each others’
eyes.
He ignored the heartburn that raged at such a sight.
^^^^^^
“What do you mean, your hair turned blue?” Chadwick stared at her in horror.
Zenith wouldn’t have told him about the hair at all, but she needed an excuse to skip
the ballet. She’d rather run a hot bath and spend a quiet night reading financial
reports. Tomorrow was the mandatory board meeting Grandfather demanded they
attend every quarter. Poor Grandfather would try to get them interested in the
business, and they’d all merely roll their eyes at his insistence that they study the
reports, understand the charts and follow the trends of their company. Although the
others didn’t make an effort, Zenith always tried to show some enthusiasm. No, she
shouldn’t go to the ballet. She forced from her mind the condom bouquet; she didn’t
want to deal with that in public.
“It was bright blue, Chadwick. I practically glowed! It’s gone now, but I really just need
a night to myself.”
“Of course, darling! How stressful for you,” Chadwick soothed. He squeezed her slim
fingers, his perfect mouth smiling in commiseration. “I could come over tonight, bring a
bottle of wine, and we could spend a quiet evening together.”
Zenith thought in horror of the condom bouquet, tossed so haphazardly in her kitchen
sink. He couldn’t think of wanting to use one tonight, could he? She suppressed a
shudder at the thought. “No, that’s sweet of you, but I’m thinking of just soaking in the
tub.”
Chadwick leaned closer, his tones becoming deep and intimate. “Why don’t you come
to my place and we can use the hot tub?” One finger caressed the pulse point on her
wrist. “It might be fun for us to share a hot soak together.”
Panic swept through her. Oh, he was wanting to try one out tonight! All her instincts
told her to flee, to run like the wind. But she held fast. Somersbees never retreated.
Although at this moment it seemed the expedient thing to do.
“No, honestly, I really need to study the financial reports tonight. Tomorrow is the
board meeting, and I need to be up to speed.” She sipped her lemonade, the effort
taking both her hands, removing her from Chadwick’s touch.
“I don’t know why you bother,” he scoffed, stirring his own lemonade. “Your
grandfather has professionals who do that much better than you. That’s why he has
old Bradley, isn’t it?” His lip curled; Zenith found it very unattractive.
“It’s very important to Grandfather that we take an interest in the business, and
therefore I need to be prepared.” She slid out of the booth. “I’m going to the powder
room for a moment; I’ll be right back.” She needed a minute to herself, she told herself
wildly. Just a moment and she could calm down her skittering nerves.
As she left the table, Chadwick noticed an old buddy walking into the lounge. He wasn’
t aware that he’d left Zenith’s purse unattended. However, two others were very aware.
Chauncy fingered the little bottle in his pocket. At the moment, Lydia was in an
animated discussion with Brad as to why she should plant a rose hedge at her estate,
while he favored the open flow of the yard. Luna was in the ladies’ restroom. He
slipped away unnoticed by sister or nephew.
As he moved toward the table, Luna suddenly appeared. Reaching Zenith’s table first,
she didn’t notice Chauncy nearby. Instead, she reached over to Zenith’s open purse.
With a slight flick of the wrist a magician would envy, she dropped a shiny object into
the purse, leaving a corner exposed. She then continued on her way.
Chauncy stared after her, confused. He knew only one way to find out what Luna was
up to. He’d have to look.
He moved in quickly as he tried to understand what he’d seen. Unstopping the bottle,
he dumped the chemical in the lemonade, stirring it slightly. He then peered carefully at
the packet Luna’d left behind.
It was a condom! Chauncy’s eyes widened in shock. Why would Luna provide her
sister with condoms? It didn’t seem right. No, it wasn’t right! He strode after Luna,
determined to confront her, but unable to decide how to bring up sex with his young
granddaughter.
He caught up with her on the balcony; she stood looking out at the bay where a few
small sailboats dotted the horizon. “Luna!” he nearly shouted. “I don’t know what you’
re up to, young lady, but you will explain yourself now!”
She blinked deep green eyes at him. “I don’t know what you mean, Grandfather.”
He frowned deeply. “I saw what you did with the condom.”
Her expression didn’t change. “Grandfather, I don’t have any condoms. I’m waiting for
marriage.”
“Luna!” he roared, now thoroughly losing patience with her. “Why are you giving your
sister condoms?”
“Why, Grandfather,” she countered, “what did that lemonade do to you that you
dumped something in it?”
Chauncy’s moustache twitched as he thought of a good cover story; none came to
mind.
Luna grinned at him triumphantly. “I think that you and I are after the same thing. I
put the condom there to make Zenith realize that her relationship isn’t quite as fulfilling
as she’d like. And also as incentive for Chadwick to make a fool of himself, if he sees it,
which I hope he does. I’m thinking whatever you did to the lemonade is meant to shake
them up as well. Perhaps we should join forces.”
Chauncy snorted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” What kind of help could
Luna be?
She smiled knowingly, as if she read his mind. “I have a key to Zenith’s place. And I
have her diary.”
Chauncy stared at her as the possibilities grew. Perhaps she could be an asset, after
all.
^^^^^^
Zenith returned to the table at the same time Chadwick did. The couple smiled at
each other as they both reached for their lemonades. The appetizer sampler arrived
and Zenith reached for a crab-stuffed mushroom, glad for the distraction. She didn’t
know why her relationship with Chadwick seemed to be spiraling out of control, but
perhaps now was the time to nip his sexual tendencies in the bud.
“Where did this sudden interest in....sex come from?” she questioned. “I thought
you understood that I want to wait until after we’re married.”
Chadwick stared at her uncomprehendingly. “Where did that come from? When did
I mention sex?”
Zenith glowered at him. “How about the remark about spending the night together?”
“I mentioned spending the evening together, like we’ve done dozens of times before.
Why did you think this was different?”
Zenith thought disparagingly of the condom bouquet, but that was her winning hand,
and she didn’t want to reveal it yet. “And your suggestion to hot tub with me?”
Chadwick’s eyes widened. “I wasn’t alluding to sex! I know how important it is to you
that you’re a virgin on your wedding night.” As he bit into a shrimp, he looked pointedly
at the ring on her right hand. When her grandmother gave her that ring, she’d asked
Zenith to wear it as a symbol of purity until her wedding night. Zenith had agreed
willingly.
“Then why did you – “ she began, meaning to mention the huge display of condoms
she’d received from him. Instead, her voice drifted away as she stared at him.
Something didn’t look right.
“Chadwick, your –“ She leaned in closer to look at him. No, something was definitely
wrong. She reached out and touched his bottom lip tentatively, then looked at her
finger. Nothing on it. Then what - ?
“What is it? Is something wrong?”
“Your – oh, here, let me show you.”
She pulled her purse up onto the table, unzipping a side pocket and pulling out a little
compact mirror. Holding it out to him, she saw him staring at her purse with
unbreakable interest. He leaned forward as if to get a better look.
“What?” Her eyes followed his gaze just as his hand whipped out and plucked
something out of the main compartment of her purse. Her heart dove at the sight. It
was a condom!
“What’s this?” He held it out to her accusingly.
Her mouth opened to respond, but nothing came to her to say. Obviously he hadn’t
put it there or he wouldn’t be accusing her. She looked back at her fiancé, hoping that
something would come to mind, but thoughts of the condom fled her mind as she gaped
at him. His lips – they were -
“Here you are attacking me for supposedly wanting sex with you and you’re planning it
with someone else? What gives, Zenith? Zenith?” He stared questioningly at her.
Zenith tried hard not to laugh with one arm wrapped around her abdomen and the
other hand holding out her open compact to him. “Chadwick, please. Before you say
another word, please look.”
Grabbing the mirror, he stared into it. What he saw brought a look of dismay to his
handsome face.
His lips were blue. Azure blue, to be exact. And all of his rubbing wasn’t making the
color go away.
