Belle Pearl (17 page)

There I’d been, naively assuming Elodie was a virgin. More fool me.

She couldn’t have picked a bigger asshole than Mikhail Prokovich.

She had a lot of explaining to do.

I was so distracted that I had no idea what
Stone Trooper
was about. All I could think of was Elodie and how the fuck she ended up getting involved with the last man on Earth with whom I would have associated her. In my peripheral vision, I observed him scrutinizing her throughout the screening. He was a man obsessed. His eyes greedy, all-consuming, commanding. It was as if he wanted to swallow her whole. He was sitting on his own, though—she had spurned him as her date for the night. Why Elodie? Okay, she was beautiful and charming, but he had his pick of any supermodel. How had they become involved in the first place? I watched Elodie, her nostrils fuming like a young racehorse. I could tell that the betrayal she felt at her stepmother’s cheating on her father was eating her, and whatever Prokovich had done, or not done, was making her hate him. Hate or love? The two emotions could be so intertwined.

There was a standing ovation at the end of the film. Alessandra had, no doubt, done a good job. Maybe even Oscar-worthy. Sam Myers was there in the front row, twiddling his porky fat fingers as if counting out his profits already. The movie would do well. Pearl would make a fortune. Sophie, as usual, would make a fortune. I turned to see Elodie’s reaction as Alessandra took a little bow.

But Elodie was gone.

Prokovich was still there, his eyes roaming the theatre. He too, clocked her disappearance.

I whispered to Pearl, “I need to find Elodie.”

“Go,” she agreed. “I’ll get a ride home with Sophie and Alessandra. Get out of here before you end up in another fight. I love you, even if you are a hotheaded, proud Frenchman who causes scenes.”

I kissed her hand and dashed out while the audience was still clapping and cheering. As I made my exit, I passed Prokovich who was still standing, his eyes scanning the theatre. I called Elodie on my cell. No answer. But seconds later, it buzzed with a message from her:

I’m fine. Had to get out of there. C U at yours.

I’d been expecting her to run—take a flight to Paris or something. She was going to my
apartment?
I felt white heat on my face and when I looked up, I noticed a thousand cameras flashing in my face. News reporters were all over me, shoving microphones up against my lips. A woman, whom I recognized from TV said, “Mr. Chevalier, can you explain why you and Mr. Prokovich came to blows earlier this evening?”

Another reporter shouted at me, “Are either of you pressing charges? Suing for damages?”

“We’re European,” I answered, “so we’re not into suing.” Then I realized my wry joke may not have gone down too well and I wished I’d kept my trap shut.

Someone else yelled over the crowd, “Does your animosity with each other have anything to do with professional jealousy? You’re both the same age. Which one of you two is richer?”

“No comment,” I said briskly as I weaved my way between a sea of bodies.

I tried to hail a cab but it had started to drizzle. Barcelona and New York—two cities with a dearth of taxis the second rain threatens. I started jogging. It would be faster for me to simply run home through Central Park than mess about with either hailing a cab or calling my driver.

I needed to get to Elodie before Prokovich sent in his Rottweilers.

16

I
slipped quietly into the living room and found Elodie staring at the TV, sitting between Sally and Jeanine, all of them eating popcorn on the sofa. They were glued to the news. Rex was also watching the news, his ears cocked when he saw my face on the screen, and heard my words, “We’re not into suing.”

A newsroom reporter happily sang, “In a surprising turn of events, two of the wealthiest young men in the world came to blows tonight on the red carpet at a New York screening of the blockbuster movie,
Stone Trooper.
French Internet mogul, Alexandre Chevalier, and real estate magnet, Mikhail Prokovich, who hails from Russia, threw a few punches and kicks, before the HookedUp billionaire’s wife, Pearl Chevalier, intervened. Apparently, the two twenty-six year old men laughed it off afterwards, Mr. Prokovich telling news reporters that they were ‘just practicing a few black-belt moves as a joke.’ He says that the two of them are close friends and are even discussing a future business deal together.”

“Business deal, my ass,” I said to the TV. “Close friends…yeah right. Don’t believe what you hear, ladies.”

Jeanine turned her head, and with a bewildered look on her face said, “Oh, hi Mr. Chevalier; didn’t hear you come in.”

“You know to call me just Alexandre, Jeanine. Are the twins asleep?”

“They were angels all evening. Didn’t cry once. And yeah, they’re fast asleep.”

Elodie shoved a handful of popcorn into her mouth as if to prevent herself from speaking. Surely she had a lot to tell me. A whole damn lot.

“How was the movie?” Sally asked me.

“I don’t know, I wasn’t paying attention because something more important was distracting me. Elodie, tell them what you thought of
Stone Trooper.”

“It sucked,” she said. “Alessandra Demarr is a crap actress.”

“That bad, eh? Ladies, feel free to go home; I can take it from here.” I could tell they were dying to ask me questions about what happened but my stony face had both of them rise from the sofa. Elodie continued stuffing popcorn into her mouth, every now and then offering Rex some.

“I need to get going,” Jeanine said with an embarrassed smile.

“Me too,” Sally chimed in. “I’ll be back at seven for Rex’s walk tomorrow.” Rex got up too, his tail spinning like a windmill, the middle of his torso wiggling with excitement. Pretty girls, sofa, popcorn, his dad on TV—what an exciting evening he’d had.

“Night, girls, and thanks so much for looking after the twins.”

“Sure.” Jeanine smiled awkwardly at me.

“Don’t worry, Sally, I haven’t forgotten our deal.” An all-paid vacation in Venice, Italy, for a week.
An offer she couldn’t refuse.
Sometimes, it was really fun to be so wealthy—to ‘magic’ people every so often. Give them treats they could never afford themselves.

The two women left, and Elodie sat cross-legged on the couch, still eating popcorn.

“So?” I said.

She arched a brow. “So.”

“Aren’t you going to fill me in?”

“What is there to tell?” she said in a morose, fuck-you tone.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll guess and my imagination is probably wilder than reality.”

“I doubt that very much,” she answered enigmatically.

“How did you meet?”

“Maman and I were having lunch in Paris and he was there. He came over to our table.”

“And then what?”

“He became obsessed. Started pursuing me relentlessly. Wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“But he’s very handsome. And rich. Girls love men like him.”

“Like I really give a shit about money.”

“You’re a headstrong girl. You could have told him to fuck off.”

She gave Rex another handful of popcorn. “I did. But he wouldn’t listen. It made him want me more.”

“So you started sleeping with him?”

“I don’t want to discuss my sex life with
you,
you’re my uncle. It’s weird.” She kept her eyes on the TV.
The
Vampire Diaries
or something.

“He didn’t seem to have a problem with blaring it out in public. It was tacky and crude what he did, telling me he was fucking you like that. In public, for everyone to hear. Even if he said it in French.”

“He
is
tacky and crude. He can drink anyone under the table; he fights like a boxer.” And she muttered under her breath, “He’s insatiable.”

“So why did you ask him as your date to the premiere?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you in love with him?”

“I hate him.”

I turned the sound of the TV down with the remote. “That wasn’t my question. Are you in
love
with him?”

“I got hooked in.”

“How long have you been seeing him for?”

“On and off.”

“So that’s why you asked to borrow my bodyguard a while ago?”

“Yeah.”

“And why you took off traveling across America in Pearl’s car?”

“I wanted to get away from him.”

“But you came back to him?”

She said quietly, “I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Why?” she didn’t answer. “Why?” I repeated.

“Because.”

“Because?”

“Because I couldn’t keep away from him even though I knew it was all wrong…alright? Satisfied now?”

I read between the lines. “There’s more to a relationship than just sex, Elodie.”

“Oh that’s rich, coming from you!”

“What are you talking about?”

“You and Pearl. You’re obsessed with each other. You’re relationship is so physical.”

She’d stabbed me in the gut with her words. “That’s so not true. It started off that way. Partly. But we’re soul mates. It’s a feeling that can’t be explained—can’t be rationalized. Pearl and I were made for each other and the physical part of it just enhanced that. It’s about trust. Trust made the physical bond more intense. Without trust everything else is temporary.”

Elodie seemed to listen to what I said, mulling my words of wisdom over in her mind. She then told me, “I came here so I’d be safe from Mikhail. I can’t go back to my apartment in the Village.”

“You did the right thing. Stay here. Stay as long as you like—you can even help us look after the twins.”

“He’ll be out there waiting for me. Obsessing about me. He won’t rest until he has me. All of me. He told me so.”

I knew this sort of stuff was an aphrodisiac for many women. My mother had succumbed to those sorts of promises with my father. Abuse dressed up as love and passion when, really, it was all about control. Hell, my mom’s fictional boyfriends were probably full of that kind of talk. I feared that Elodie would be swayed by Prokovich’s amour, even if it was more about possession than real love. “Well, you’ll just need protection, plus a strong will to keep away from him.”

“I
mean
it this time. I don’t want him in my life. He’s not a good person.”

“How do you know he’s not a good person?”
I know, but how does she know?

“I’ve heard him make deals on the phone. I know who he is.”

“He doesn’t worry about you being party to all that?”

“No. He likes it. It makes him feel powerful. He wants me to fear him.”

“And
do
you fear him?” I asked.

“D’you know why I decided I didn’t want to see him anymore? Why I couldn’t love him?”

“I can think of a million reasons not to love a man who makes his money selling arms,” I said, taking in her little heart-shaped face and her innocent gaze, which was breaking me up.

“Governments do it,” she said by way of an excuse. “He’s no worse than a lot of politicians.”

“I know, Elodie. We live in a pretty fucked up world. But you deserve better than a man like that. What was it then, that finally made you decide you didn’t love him?”

“He told me he strangled a cat when he was a boy. I felt sick when he said that.” She blew air from her lips and added, “I wish he’d get blown up by one of his own land mines. Or someone would fucking shoot him with one of his AK-47s.”

I fixed my eyes on her wide brown eyes. “Don’t do anything rash. You hear me? Just keep away from him.”

“Hey guys, you all look very serious.” It was Pearl, swishing back from the premiere in her heels and shimmery gown. Rex bounded over to her but luckily didn’t jump up. “Glad you’re here, Elodie,” Pearl said. “Anyone for a snack? I’m starving.”

“You relax, chérie, I’ll check on the twins and make us some sandwiches or something.”

“I already took a peep. They’re out for the count; Louis has a little grin on his face and Madeleine’s pouting in her sleep, dreaming about something serious.”

I left Pearl and Elodie together and snuck into the babes’ room and observed them in their cots. It was true what Pearl said about their little expressions. We’d been lucky; neither of them were screamers. Sometimes babies come into a world with everything just right. Others have a battle. I was one of the battle fighters. I’d had colic, apparently. Then whooping cough—I had a rough ride. But Louis and Madeleine had two parents madly in love with each other and seemed to be living a stress-free existence. It showed in their faces and in their jolly demeanor.

As I slipped out noiselessly and walked past the living room, I couldn’t help but hear a snippet of Elodie and Pearl’s hushed conversation.

“He became more and more dominant, you know. He made me play games with whips and stuff. Tied me up. Blinded me.”

“Blindfolded you, you mean?” Pearl corrected.

I did that to Pearl, even though all I did was ‘whip’ her with a feather. But still. Shit, maybe I’m just as fucked up as Prokovich.

“Yeah,” Elodie went on. “You know, at first it was…well, it was kind of fascinating and I wanted to please him. But it got more and more crazy. Then I left him and he promised he’d stop but when we started dating again, he wanted to do the kinky stuff and I got scared.”