The Black Door (13 page)

“Oh,” he simply said, and let go of her hand.

“And I’m Michele Richards, his girlfriend and Preston’s personal assistant,” she interrupted, breaking the vibe between her man and Meri.

“I’m sure,” Meri commented, barely glancing in the girl’s direction.

Sensing a catfight brewing, Ariel said, “Come on, let’s get you guys a glass of champagne. This is a celebration after all.”

Once everyone had a flute of bubbly, Preston III raised his glass. “To my father and Ariel. May you guys have a life filled with much happiness!”

“To happiness,” they all sang in unison.

After the toast, Michele wasted no time ushering her date away from Meri’s clutches. Preston and Ariel mingled and were all smiles as they strolled through the party hand-in-hand greeting their guests, which were an intimate combination of relatives, coworkers, and a few former colleagues.

Now that Preston was by her side, Ariel relaxed and began to enjoy the party. She was drifting on cloud ninety-nine as Preston affectionately clenched her hand and proudly introduced her to the judges who laid down the law in New York and beyond. Ariel knew most of the Manhattan clergy, but the ones from the outer boroughs, she had only read about in the trades. Preston, however, was on a first-name basis with every attorney in the room. She watched as he engaged each of them with personal stories; he even knew the names of their spouses and children. Preston was in the zone, schmoozing and shaking hands as if he were campaigning for office. He was a natural politician. Watching him in action, she finally understood why being a Supreme Court justice was so important to him. It was in his blood. Ariel vowed right then and there that she would support him in achieving his dream, as long as he didn’t spend every waking moment obsessing over his impending appointment. Though she hated to admit the truth, she’d come to the realization that she was the type of woman who needed daily affection (something she seldom received as a child). And when Preston threw himself into his work, she felt like a neglected afterthought.

“Mike, you remember Ariel?” he asked Michele’s father.

“Of course, how could I forget the smartest
and
prettiest clerk that ever roamed our halls?” he replied, kissing her on the cheek.

Ariel couldn’t believe how much she admired Judge Richards and at the same time despised his daughter. The admiration she felt for Mike certainly hadn’t spilled over to Michele. He was a hardworking dedicated judge, while she on the other hand only seemed to be dedicated to finding a man. Initially Ariel thought the young vixen had her sights set on Preston, but the way she was fawning all over his son, Ariel rightfully assumed that Michele had zeroed in on his offspring instead.

“So, Preston tells me my little girl is doing a great job.” He smiled proudly, directing his comment to Ariel.

If you call prancing around in see-through tops and skintight dresses doing a great job, then I guess you could say that she’s working overtime!
Ariel thought, as she eyed Michele pressing her boobs against her date’s arm.

Knowing how Ariel felt about Michele, Preston knew that she wasn’t about to give the girl any kudos, so he quickly spoke up. “Yes, she’s efficient and extremely resourceful to say the least, and I’m sure you know that she and my son have started dating.” He looked over at them, drinking champagne. “Who knows, Alike, we might be in-laws one day” Preston chuckled.

“Now wouldn’t that be ironic; after all the years we’ve known each other, we might actually become family,” he said, warming up to the idea.

“Well, let’s mingle,” Preston said, grabbing Ariel’s hand.

“Oh, sure. I’m happy for you two, and let me just say congratulations again.”

As they walked away, Preston stopped a passing waiter and took two flutes. He handed one to Ariel, looked deeply into her eyes, and said, “I feel like the luckiest man alive to have you in my life.” He lifted her hand and kissed it. “Thank you for agreeing to be my wife. I promise you a life of happiness, and—”

His declaration of love was cut short by the nagging ring of his cell phone. He tried to ignore the interruption coming from his breast pocket, but the phone just kept ringing, and when it stopped and went into voice mail, the incessant ringing would start all over again. He finally took the ringing phone out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID.

“I’m sorry, honey. I have to get this. It’s the senator.”

Ariel was livid. “This is
our
night, Preston. Can’t he wait until tomorrow?” she said, fuming.

“I know, but it might be important.” Just then the phone stopped. “I need to call him back. I won’t be long, I promise.” He leaned in to kiss her, but she pulled back in anger.

As she watched him retreat into the library, she could feel her body temperature rise and the vein sprout again in the middle of her forehead. Preston was making and breaking promises in the same breath and his wavering enraged her. She wanted to believe that things were going to be different, but her instincts and his actions were telling her that she would always play second string to his demanding career. Ariel dejectedly walked over to the picture window, and with her back to the party, she gazed down at the passing cars and began to silently weep for the life that she would never have. Yes, she would have a husband, but not an attentive lover who doted on her constantly

“Hey there. Why are you standing here all alone?” asked a voice from behind.

Ariel quickly wiped her eyes in an effort to hide her pain and then slowly turned around. “Oh, hi,” she said to Preston III, trying to sound cheerful.

He took one look at her tear-stained face, reached into his breast pocket, removed a freshly starched handkerchief, gingerly dabbed the remaining tears from her cheeks, and said, “I surely hope those are tears of joy”

She looked into his eyes and could feel his genuine concern as they held each other’s gaze. His eyes were familiar, as if she’d known him in another life; the warm brown sent a chill up her spine. The familiarity she felt probably had to do with the fact that he was the spitting image of his dad.

“Here take this.” He gave her the starched white handkerchief. “I think you could use it more than me.” He smiled.

His kindness touched her. Unlike his father, he was caring and concerned. “Thanks.” She wiped her face with the cotton cloth, switched gears, and asked, “So how long have you and Michele been going out?”

But before he could answer, the lady in question came rushing up to him. “There you are, baby. I’ve been looking all over for you. I want to introduce you to my father,” she said, possessively looping her arm through his.

He looked at Ariel as if to say,
sorry for rushing off,
before being led away by his needy girlfriend.

As Ariel watched them walk away, she admired how he tenderly put his arm around Michele’s shoulder. He seemed to be an attentive partner, and she longed for the same type of relationship.

With Preston still behind closed doors, she drifted aimlessly from one conversation to the next. Her spirits were dissipating as fast as the bubbles in her champagne. Then, out of the blue, she had an epiphany Her happiness was dependant on one person and one person only: Ariel. She knew instantly what she was going to do to reenergize her soul.

ARIEL FLIPPED
through the fifty-page deposition in her hands, trying to make sense of the transcript. She stared at the paper as if it were written in Japanese; she was having difficulty deciphering the words. Her lack of focus had nothing to do with the language, but with her preoccupation with Preston. She was still seething from his behavior at the engagement party. By the time he finished his conference call with the senator and reemerged from the library, most of the guests were gone and the party was winding down. He tried to smooth things over with Ariel by promising her a long, uninterrupted weekend, but she wasn’t buying any more of his false promises. She was tempted right then and there to break off the engagement, since he seemed to already be married—to the senator—but a cooler head prevailed. She realized that once the nomination process was over, she would have more of Preston’s undivided attention.

“Ms. Vaughn, Mrs. Renick is on line one,” her assistant said through the intercom, interrupting her reverie.

“Thanks, Jo Anne,” Ariel answered, and then clicked over to Meri. “I was just thinking about the party. Thanks so much for throwing us such a fabulous affair; everyone seemed to have a good time . . .”

“Everyone except for you,” Meri said, wasting no time getting right to the point.

“I-I. . .” Meri’s directness caught Ariel off guard, causing her to stutter. “I did too have a good time.”

“If having a good time means crying and being consoled by your fiancé’s son, then I guess you had an absolute ball!” Meri said sarcastically.

“I didn’t know you were playing I Spy last night,” she shot back. Ariel thought that she had been discreet, and didn’t think that anyone noticed her sobbing over by the window.

“Ha-ha, not so funny. One minute you and Preston were strolling hand-in-hand, the epitome of happiness, and the next minute he had disappeared and you were near the picture window crying your eyes out. Before I could come over and ask why you were so upset, Preston III was there giving you his white hanky.”

With so many people milling about, Ariel couldn’t believe that Meri had witnessed the entire incident, and recited every single detail even down to the color of the handkerchief. “You don’t miss a thing, do you?”

“Well, if you must know, I wasn’t watching you per se, I was eyeing Preston III.” She did a low whistle. “He is one fine young man!”

Ariel rolled her eyes and shook her head at Meri’s comment. “
Young being
the operative word. Besides—”

“Young and
grown.
He must be in his late twenties, nearly thirty, which is old enough for me.”

“Wait a minute, missy. I thought you were tried of the boy toys and were ready to settle down and get married,” Ariel reminded Meri.

“Oh, I could
so
marry young Preston; he’s just my type—tall, muscular, and handsome. And the way he was checking me out when we met, I’d say that I’m his type as well,” Meri said confidently.

Ariel laughed at Meri’s chutzpa. She was nearly twice his age, and based on his choice in girlfriends (a twenty-something bombshell with real boobs), Meri was nowhere near his type, but that didn’t stop her from lusting after him. “Tell me you’re not serious.”

“And why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, sounding slightly offended. “Didn’t you see the way he was looking at me? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he wanted a piece of Meri,” she said, regaining her confidence.

With all of the available men at the party, Ariel couldn’t believe Meri had set her sights on Ariel’s future stepson, and tried to dissuade her from pursuing Preston’s only child. “Even if that was true, there’s no way Michele is going to let him out of her sight long enough for anyone to get their claws into him.”

“Darling, don’t you know that when a man wants to wander, he’ll find a way out of no way to cheat,” Meri said like a woman who spoke from experience.

“Well, from what I’ve seen of him and Michele, they’re smitten with each other, so you might as well redirect your crosshairs and set your sights on another victim,” Ariel suggested. She then steered the conversation in another direction and asked, “What about that guy in the tortoiseshell glasses that you were talking to at the party? He looked like a nice man.”

Refusing to let the topic die, Meri responded. “Nice, yes, and I might even have dinner with him once or twice, but he’s nowhere near hot!”

“I thought you were through with the hot young guys and were ready to settle down with a M-A-N,” Ariel said, reiterating Meri’s own words.

“That was before I saw Preston’s fine-ass son. Now he’s someone that I’d like to sink my teeth into. I bet he’s just yummy.” She smiled through the phone.

Ariel shook her head in frustration, then said, “Meri you know I love you like a sister, but I’m not ready to have you as a daughter-in-law.”

“Aw, Mom, don’t say that.” She laughed.

“Stop teasing, Meri; this isn’t funny. I know how you like
entertaining
beefy studs, but I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t sleep with Preston’s son. Since you and I are so close and he’s practically my stepson, it’ll seem like incest.”

“Darling, don’t be so dramatic. I’m not crossing any bloodlines, he and I are both consenting adults, and . . .”

“Meri,
please!”
she shouted in frustration.”You don’t have to get your panties in a bunch.” She sighed. “I’ll leave your precious stepson alone, but only as a personal favor to you.”

“Thank you,” Ariel said, relieved that she was finally able to get through to her horny friend.

“But just know that if I had met him in another environment without knowing he was related to Preston, I wouldn’t hesitate to make him my lover,” she added.

“Okay, I get it. Now can we
please
talk about something else?”

“Of course, darling. Enough about the young Preston. Tell me what happened between you and the older Preston?”

Ariel exhaled hard, and then told the story. “I still can’t believe he came late to the party, and then had the nerve to take a call from the senator, leaving me alone for nearly two hours to greet our guests.”

“Haven’t you realized by now that Preston has an agenda that doesn’t include you?” Meri asked point-blank.

“It sunk in at the party, when he spent more time talking with the senator than with me. The reality hurts, but I finally get it,” she said, sounding like a wounded puppy.

“Darling, put away the violins and stop feeling sorry for yourself. You don’t need a pity-party. Stop trying to lure Preston away from his mission. You need an agenda of your own, and I’m not necessarily talking about work, if you know what I mean.”

Meri’s words reconfirmed what Ariel had been thinking, but she still felt guilty about contemplating returning to The Black Door. She was practically a married woman and going back to the club just didn’t seem right. Her feelings were vacillating faster than an oscillating fan. One minute, she was ready to make a beeline back to her lover and the next minute, she was the devoted fiancée vowing to stand by her man. “I hear what you’re saying, and trust me I’ve thought about going back to The Black Door, but—”

“But nothing,” Meri interrupted. “I know you’re love starved, because I can hear it in your voice. You should have a little fun before you get married, and stop obsessing about Preston. Trust me; you need to put him on the back burner and focus on your needs instead.”

“Excuse me, Ms. Vaughn. Judge Hendricks is on line two,” JoAnne interrupted through the intercom.

“Meri, I hate to cut our conversation short, but Preston is on the line. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay. Just remember to put your needs first,” Meri said one more time, drilling her point home.

Ariel said good-bye and then clicked over. Preston’s unexpected phone call softened her resolve, and the anger she felt toward him began to fade. “So, what did I do to deserve this call?”

“Do I need a reason to talk to the love of my life?” he asked cheerfully.

“You’ve been so busy lately that I didn’t think you had time for idle chitchat.”

“I just wanted to apologize again for last night, and to ask if we can reschedule our long weekend. I know I promised you a few days of no interruptions, but the senator wants me to take the shuttle to Washington for an impromptu meeting. I should be back Saturday night, and we can have a late dinner, and a . . .”

Ariel extended her arm and held the phone far away from her ear. She didn’t want to hear another word he had to say. Twenty-four hours had not passed and yet again he was going back on his word. She didn’t need broken promises. She needed the love of a good man and knew exactly where to find one.