Beauty and the Beast (4 page)

Chapter Two

“N
o away!” Today was an angry day. No rhyme, no reason, just anger. The usual depressed blues that accompanied Bruce’s mood had shifted to furious purples. As long as the fury didn’t turn to rage, he was fine. The rage he feared hadn’t touched him since he was a child.
Thank God.
Thoughts of his enraged mood sent a chill down his spine. In those times, he had little to no control. When Nefertiti had been attacked, he’d been so close to rage he’d started praying again.

“Bruce, it’s your Auntie Vic. We need to discuss Nefertiti.”

“I didn’t do anything to her.” The clock on the nightstand indicated he still had an hour to try to regain control over his emotions.

“I’m coming in, so cover yourself.”

Protesting would do no good. Thus, he remained silent.

The door creaked as she opened it. “What’s wrong with you? Turn on some light before I break my blame neck.” After Nefertiti left his room last night, he’d drawn the drapes so the sunlight wouldn’t invade his room the next morning.

“Blame?” He turned on the lamp to its lowest setting. “That’s a new one.”

“What happened with Nefertiti last night?” She sat on the edge of his bed. Dressed in a floral pattern summer top, matching shorts, and wood clogs that couldn’t be as comfortable as she claimed, Victoria looked a lot more innocent than Bruce knew her to be.

“Cut straight to the chase, huh?”

“Don’t play with me. What happened?”

Mischievous brown eyes narrowed, he said, “I offered to let her share my bed.” The amused look on Victoria’s face was the last thing he expected.

“I’m serious, Bruce. What happened?”

A laugh rumbled in his belly for a few seconds before escaping. He could always count on his Auntie Vic to help swing his mood in the direction he wanted it to go. Nefertiti was the only other person with this ability.

With her hands covering her mouth and her eyes open wide, she giggled. “Oh my, darling. You were serious. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re murder on a guy’s ego.” He glanced at the clock. “I’m not trying to rush you, but I have a meeting in fifty minutes and still need to shower.”

“Okay, darling, I’ll make this fast. It’s time for you to act on your feelings for Nefertiti.”

“I don’t have any—”

“I thought you were in a hurry. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The choice is yours.”

He didn’t answer; she raised a brow.

“The easy way.” Uncomfortable with this conversation, the mood swing toward the light side was in quick retreat to the dark.

“You two need each other. I don’t know what happened when she graduated, but whatever it was scared you half to death.”

“I’m not afraid of anything!”

“Yeah, right,” she said, her voice laden with sarcasm.

“I just don’t want to get involved with Nefertiti. She’s your goddaughter, for Christ’s sake. What if things didn’t work out? That would put a rift in our relationship.”

The incredulous smirk that marred her delicate, dark features told him this line of reasoning wouldn’t float with Victoria.

Arms folded over her chest, she calmly said, “I thought you were in a hurry. Shall we waste time in denial or get this going?”

The attractive, dainty, middle-aged woman who had raised him had the whole world fooled. Below that loving, genteel exterior lived a barracuda. One he admired.

“Okay, you win. Yes, I would like to have more with Nefertiti, but I’m not relationship material. She would have given all of her heart just to have it broken.” That was another reason he’d stayed away. If anyone broke her heart, he knew he’d lose it. Only a miracle from God had prevented him from going after Dennis. Truth be told, he was still contemplating paying the coward a visit.

“What about now?”

“I’m still not relationship material.”

“I’m worried about you, darling.” She rested her hand on his. “I’m worried about you both.”

Head cocked to the side, brows furrowed, he said, “Worried about me?” He motioned around the opulent suite. “Come on, we live in the lap of luxury. I have a multimillion-dollar business that is thriving. People would kill to have my life.”

“They don’t know your life. The only time you leave this suite is on the rare occasion you can’t conduct business from it. When was the last time you actually went to your office?” Bruce owned one of the skyscrapers in downtown Chicago. His office was on the top floor.

“Everything I need is in here.”

“No, it isn’t.” She snatched the remote off the nightstand and pointed it toward the windows. “Life is out there.” With a touch of a button, the drapes drew back and allowed the sunlight to pour in. “You have an eleven hundred square foot prison cell with all of the latest and greatest, but at the end of the day, it’s still a prison cell. And now I’m afraid that Nefertiti…” Choked up, she fanned herself. “There’s something terribly wrong, Bruce, and I can’t help her.”

Tears welled in Victoria’s eyes. He’d never seen her cry, and this hurt his soul. All he wanted was to make her feel better. “Try not to worry, Auntie. She just needs time to adjust. After the trial is over, I’m sure she’ll be dragging me to the Art Institute like she used to do when we were kids. And yes, I choose to spend my time in here, but this is the life I’m comfortable with. I’m not hurting anyone, and I’m content.”

 
She placed her hands in her lap. “I know you’d survive if you never left this suite. I don’t like it, but I can accept it. But Nefertiti is different. She’s always been outgoing. She’s a people person. A free spirit. How long do you think she’ll survive caged in that cellar?”

“She’s been traumatized. You have to give her time to recover.”

“Last night was the first time since she’s been here that she’s ventured further than the study, that she actually sought someone out. And she’s only been in the study a few times. Otherwise, she remains in the old service quarters in the cellar. Why? She’s always felt comfortable within the walls of this house, so why has she walled herself into a small section like you have?”

Unable to provide the answers, he remained silent.

“She loves the sun. Why won’t she go outside or take one of the suites?” She sighed. “I’m afraid she’s trying to live like you.”

He reeled back. “I know you aren’t saying she wants to be me when she grows up.”

“In a way, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about.” He laughed. “Give her a month or two, and she’ll be back to her nature.”

“The attack scarred more than her body. It scarred her emotionally. I’m worried about her. All I’m asking is…” She shrugged. “I don’t know what I’m asking. But I do know living in the cellar will finish killing off her spirit.” She stood. “You need to get ready for your meeting, and I need to make sure Nefertiti remembers the pesticide man will be spraying the cellar this morning.”

“Auntie, why does she wear that getup in the house? We’re family. We don’t care about her scars.”

“But she does. I saw some of the reactions people had to her scarring, and I was appalled by their behavior. What if someone in this household, someone she loved, reacted poorly?”

After she left, he hurried to get ready for his meeting, yet worried about what his aunt had said. Nefertiti, covered from head to toe, unnerved him. And her eyes… Her eyes had always been so vibrant, so alive. The lifeless brown pools he looked into last night were cold and haunting. What did he do to you?

Kicked out of the cellar for an entire day while it aired out, Nefertiti stayed in the study and caught up on reading. The placement of the study was perfect for her to spy on anyone who entered or left through the main entryway without them seeing her. The view out the window was breathtaking. The lush grounds seemed to go on forever. The flowerbeds and walking paths begged Nefertiti to come outside for a closer look. Along the private road were huge weeping willows she’d once loved to climb. But the world outside the window no longer welcomed her.

“He took everything from me!” she bit out through clenched teeth. Even the eyes she saw the unwelcoming world from weren’t hers. Rage at the unfairness of life drenched her in gushes that threatened to drown her. As soon as she would reach the surface, another downpour would fall.

Life with rage burning in her soul was new for Nefertiti, and she wasn’t sure how or if she could gain control over it. The time between her plastic surgery and her unveiling gave her time to figure out how to carve out a new way of life. Gaining control over the rage was a major reason she’d agreed to stay with Victoria. Bouts of rage attacked Bruce regularly, yet he had found a way to live with it. That was the place she longed to be, and he was the person who could teach her control.

In an attempt to subdue the rage, she tried her old technique and searched for a brighter side, but found none. This sight her nurse told her she should be grateful for was both a blessing and a curse. The blessing—she could still see to do her art and appreciate the beauty out there. The curse—she could see people covering their shock as they entered her hospital room; she could see how uncomfortable looking at her made people; she could see children pointing and their mothers slapping their hands down; she could see that the world she loved no longer wanted her—and it hurt.

A white Lincoln sped along the willow-lined private road toward the house. She crossed the room to the doorway and stood flush against the wall so she could see who entered, but be unseen herself. A short while later the doorbell chimes rang. Janis, an attractive, statuesque woman who wore a cream business pantsuit, rushed from the small office next to the entrance to open the door. Victoria had told Nefertiti that Janis was Bruce’s latest assistant and seemed to have real sticking power. Jealousy had Nefertiti wondering whether Janis was assisting Bruce with more than his work schedule.

“Hello, I’m Catherine Dixon. I have a ten o’clock with Mr. Maxwell.”

Nefertiti resisted the urge to lean forward so she could see who was on the other side of the door. Janis stepped back. “Oh yes, Ms. Dixon, he’s expecting you. Please come in. He’ll be down momentarily.”

To Nefertiti’s chagrin, a gorgeous brunette dressed in a royal blue mini skirt and blouse walked through the door.
Doesn’t he know any ugly people? Sheeesh.
The woman’s short skirt gave Nefertiti the impression that Ms. Dixon wasn’t here on a typical business call.
How the heck does s1he sit in that thing? You’d see all of her business.
Even though Nefertiti also had the legs that could carry off an outfit like that, she’d never been so bold.
Maybe Bruce is right; maybe I am a prude.

The all too familiar anger returned as she traced the scars under her veil with her gloved finger. Neither short skirts nor any other fashion mattered now.

“You may sit in my office and wait. Or,” Janis motioned toward the burgundy Louis XVI winged chairs flanking her office door, “you may have a seat out here.”