The Black Chapel (18 page)

“We can go home if you’d like. I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of today and this evening in bed with you.” He smiles seductively.

I’m seriously considering his offer, but no—. “We really should spend some time with your family. I want to get to know them better, and besides, you never know how long of a time you will have with your mother.” I hope my comment doesn’t offend him.

“That’s why I love you so much,” he says.

“Love me? Oh, Michael, I didn’t know you were that serious,” I say, teasing.

His brow crinkles. “You don’t understand yet, but I don’t think I’ve ever truly loved another woman before.”

I’m shocked. I can’t get myself to say
I love you
to him. It’s too soon. And I have this deep fear that if I do say it, the whole relationship might all unravel on me. Like the admittance of love will somehow curse our relationship.

“I admit it, Scarlett, I love you!” He opens his car door and stands in the snow. “I love Scarlett Hansen!” he yells.

I’m embarrassed because Diane’s servants are waiting for us to get out of the car so they can park it. “Shhh—” I say, getting out of the car. I walk over to him.

“Don’t shush me. I want to tell the whole world I finally found you!” He bear hugs me and then kisses me lightly on the lips.

I can’t help but grin like a fool from ear to ear, and I’d stay here forever in his arms if I could.

Michael pulls me inside. We’re a few minutes late to dinner. The rest of the party is seated in the dining room already and are politely eating their appetizers. There are roughly 90 to 100 people here tonight, and I recognize some of them from last night’s Christmas dinner at Michael’s house. Kenneth waves to me and I wave back. At least I have one friend here.

After we eat, again I’m stuffed. These dinner parties do nothing for my figure, I’m sure. I’m going to have to get me to a gym and get me a gym membership if I don’t want to look like a hippo at my wedding. My stomach flutters when I think that I’m actually getting married—for real. And it flutters again when I think about the fact that I’m getting married to Michael.

After dinner Michael escorts me to the ballroom. The huge ballroom has been beautifully decorated with garlands, lights and with red, green and gold Christmas Trees along the walls. An orchestra has been hired to play tonight’s music.

“May I have this dance?” Michael holds out his hand.

“Oh, you’re a dancer?” I ask, surprised, giving him my hand.

He secures me in his arms and twirls me deftly around. “One of the best.”

Michael leads me out onto the bare dance floor. I’m very aware that everyone is watching us. I don’t really like to be the center of attention, especially when dancing the waltz. And though I like dancing the waltz with Michael, I’d like to be dancing a very different type of dance with the man of my dreams. But I have fun, nevertheless.

Michael draws me in close and swings me around and around. My dress flares. No doubt he picked it out because he was thinking of this very moment.

He’s a great dancer, and I am again reminded of how grateful I am that I met him. Thank you, Anne, for dragging me to church that Sunday morning.

We dance for a long time, lost in each other’s arms, in conversation about the wedding and about the things we’ll do, and do to each other, over the next few days, weeks, months, years.

“I think I love you, too, Mr. Manning,” I say. My heart is beating so fast, and though I’m scared to death of saying those three words, it feels so right.

“Oh, Scarlett, let’s get out of here. I want to fuck you senseless,” Michael says, and I cannot say no.

As we’re about to leave, I hear an announcement from stage. It’s Diane’s voice.

“I’d like to bring a very special couple up here. Michael and Scarlett, would you please?”

Michael looks at me. “Did you know about this?”

“No,” I say. I really don’t want to go up there and stand in front of everybody. When I’m dancing as a stripper, it’s a whole other thing, because I wear a mask, and it’s not really me. But when I’m here among so many people, with Michael, I am just plain old me. I get so nervous I don’t really know what to do.

Michael squeezes my hand. “Don’t worry. She’s just going to congratulate us, and welcome you into the family.”

I hope he’s right.

We make our way up to the small platform stage and of course, I trip on the way up. I hear the crowd gasp, but fortunately, Michael catches me before I face plant onto the steps.

“Thanks,” I say, thoroughly humiliated.

We’re up on the stage now, and the ballroom grows quiet. I’m clinging onto Michael’s arm for dear life, remembering what he said in the car about Diane and how she could become my worst enemy so quickly.

“It’s ok, breathe,” he whispers.

I breathe in and out slowly, but it doesn’t seem to help at all.

“I’d like to announce the engagement of my only son, Michael, to his lovely girlfriend, Scarlett. Don’t they make a lovely couple?” Diane says.

Applause follows, and lights are flashing. It looks like the press made it out to this party.

“Tell me, Michael, where did you say you met again?” Diane gives the microphone to him.

“We met at church, Mother.” He smiles and hands the microphone back.

“And tell me, Scarlett. What did you think when you first met my son?” I think back to the strip club where I had seen him in the audience. Does that qualify as me meeting him the first time, or in the church? I pick the church. Best be consistent in my story.

“I thought he was very kind and sweet. And a little forward,” I say and hand the microphone back to her.

The guests laugh.

“Yes, Michael can be a little pushy, can’t he?”

I shrug my shoulders and squeeze Michael’s arm tight.

“And tell me, Scarlett. When did you start working at the Black Chapel?” Diane hands me the microphone and I freeze.

“I—I—uh—don’t know what you mean,” I say. The room is suddenly spinning and I feel like I’m going to pass out.

Diane laughs. “Well of course you do. The strip club called the Black Chapel. One of my friends saw you entering there just earlier today.”

She had me followed, that witch! I knew I hadn’t been careful this morning when I went to meet Michael at the Black Chapel, but I thought she trusted me, so I hadn’t thought that I needed to take all the precautionary measures I had been taking this last week.

“What do you mean?” I say. I look at Michael, and I don’t know if he’s connected the dots yet. He’s not stupid, but at the moment he looks just as shocked as I feel. Maybe he’s embarrassed at the mention of the strip club. He probably doesn’t want his dirty laundry aired out so openly in front of his family, business acquaintances and the Portland socialites. Then he looks at me, and I know he knows. Shit. Fuck. Moses. Mary.

Michael takes the microphone from me. “Thank you, mother, for bringing that up. He flashes her a killing glare. “Forgive my mother, she doesn’t understand privacy or personal boundaries. Scarlett doesn’t work there. I have actually had a fantasy for a while in where I made love to an angel. And since my fiancé is my real angel here on earth, I wanted to see if she’d indulge me this one fantasy on Christmas Day. Of course being the wonderful woman she is, she said yes immediately.”

Diane looks like she’s about to have a stroke or a heart attack, or quite possibly both.

Michael doesn’t miss a beat, but I can see in his blue eyes that he’s furious, and I’m really, really scared of losing him. “I rented the Black Chapel from the owner, knowing it would be closed on Christmas anyway, so we’d have the facility all to ourselves. And then we lived out my fantasy. It was beautiful. Wasn’t it, Scarlett?” He turns and looks at me, his eye ever so subtly fuming.

I nod, but I can’t get a word out, my mouth is so dry.

The guests are very happy for us and they applaud generously.

“So all a misunderstanding, I’m sure,” Michael says.

Diane takes the microphone back. Michael grabs my hand and drags me off stage and out of the ballroom. He doesn’t say a word, not even when we get in the car. Driving in silence, I feel like my dream world is now coming to an end. My subconscious is whipping me. You had it coming. You don’t deserve this kind of happiness. You could never hold on to a man like Michael, who do you think you are? You’re no one, and especially now, you’ve messed up your life again.

We’re at my house and he parks the car.

“Get out,” he says.

“Michael, please let me explain,” I say.

“Not now. You need to go home. The next time I want to see you is at the wedding. I’m sorry my mother is such a bitch,” he says.

I try to laugh, but the laughter gets stuck in my parched throat. “Me too. I’m sorry she aired your dirty laundry.”

“Screw that. I’m even sorrier that you lied to me. I thought—” He stops. “We are through. The deal is still on, and I expect you at the wedding.”

I’m feeling desperate. “But don’t you see that she’s trying to drive us apart? She’s been spying on me and now she found one little reason why you shouldn’t marry me.”

“Broken trust is not a little reason,” Michael says through his teeth. His brow furrows deep and he closes his eyes. “I thought I’d found the one person I could trust completely, that I could give my heart to without hesitation. But obviously, you aren’t that person. You’re about as different from that person as they come.”

“Can’t you see that this is all a stupid detail. I didn’t want to tell you because I was afraid you’d act this way. That you’d pull the deal on me and. This isn’t even about the deal for me anymore. This is about us. I love you, Michael. Please, don’t do this,” I say.

“I can’t be with someone I don’t trust. It’s what drove my father away from my mother. All the games, the lies, the secrets. I can’t and I won’t live that way, you hear?” He’s yelling now and I’m getting scared.

He reaches over me and opens my door.

“Well, it’s not like you were completely honest with me either. You went to see a stripper! You sent her emails and told her you wanted to be with her!” I say.

“You are so messed up, Scarlett. Just leave, or I’ll pull the entire deal, too!” Michael says.

The tears are coming now, and I can’t hold them back. I take my diamond necklace off and give it to him.

“Keep it,” he says. “For your father’s chemo treatment. I won’t be getting involved anymore, but fortunately for you, I’m not a heartless snake.”

I get out of the car, but before I close the door, I say, “Thanks for taking the blow for me. I know I didn’t deserve your protection up there on the stage tonight.” I drop the necklace on the car seat and close the door.

Michael drives off in a hurry, tires screeching, as I watch the only man I’ve ever truly loved drive off into the cold, snowy night.

I sleep very poorly that night, and can’t wait for dawn to break so I can go visit my dad. I am trying to avoid admitting to myself that I have failed miserably at life again, and that now, all the dreams I had such high hopes for over the last few days have dissipated due to my dishonesty. I hate myself. I know I have no one else to blame but me. The woman, the liar, the stripper.

At 8:01 a.m., there’s a knock at the door. I’ve been up since 5:00 a.m., sitting and crying on my cold kitchen floor, so I’m excited to have some variety in my morning. I open the door and there’s a UPS guy in brown clothing there.

He does a double take on me, probably because my eyes are red and I have mascara stains running down my cheeks.

“Package for you. Please sign here,” he says.

I sign the brown whatever that thing is electronic and he hands me a brown box.

I shut the door behind him. Strange, there’s no return address on it. I open the box and inside the box is a card and then another box.

Dear Scarlett,

I wanted you to have this necklace. Please do with it as you please. I suggest you sell it and use the money to pay for your father’s chemotherapy treatment.

Sincerely, Michael Manning

I don’t want to take this man’s charity. Especially since he dumped me. I have to talk to someone about this. I pull out my iPhone and text Anne.

Hey, got a minute to come over and talk? I need some advice, and humbly seek your counsel and wisdom, Scarlett.

Not even a minute later Anne replies.

Yeah, of course! I’ll be there in twenty.

I take a quick shower, avoiding any thought of what happened last time I showered here, and get dressed in my comfy jeans and a light yellow turtleneck sweater. The doorbell rings right as I’m done blow-drying my hair.

Anne has brought a bottle of wine with her and she holds it up right as I open the door.

“Looks like I had the right thing in mind,” she says. “You look awful!” She, of course, looks lovely in her black slinky pants and a tight-fitting, square-neck top.

I look down. My friend knows me all too well “How did you know?”

“I read about it on Facebook,” Anne says.

“Facebook? What do you mean?”

She walks by me and in the kitchen she pours us each a glass of nearly frozen white wine. “Someone captured the entire thing last night on their phone and posted it on Facebook.”

“When did you see this?” I ask.

“Just right before you called me.” She hands me my wine.

“Why would anyone do that?” I slump down by the kitchen table.

“Because even though no one knows the whole story, they see that your love story is so amazing. I mean, come on. How romantic is that? You fulfilled your fiancés secret fantasy on Christmas. What guy wouldn’t love that? I even saw that now it’s being dubbed as the most romantic Christmas present all year.”

“Really?” I say, laughing macabrely.

“Well, not everyone agrees. Some say it’s a waste of money, because it must have cost an arm and a leg to rent the Black Chapel, and others are saying—”

“I really don’t think I want to hear anymore,” I say. Sometimes Anne doesn’t know when to stop talking.