The Black Chapel (9 page)

“[email protected],” he reads.

I nod and then head quickly for the exit.

“I’ll be in touch,” he says, and I’m out.

I get off work early and head home immediately so I can create a new email account. I open my laptop and do an email name search. Phew! It’s available. I create the account and then hop into the shower. What an evening. Just thinking about Michael’s hands and lips on me sends tingles all through my body. I hop out of the shower and blow-dry my hair.

Once I’m in my flannel pajamas, I hop onto my bed and check my email. He’s already sent me one. I open it, my heart racing.

From: [email protected]

RE: Hello

Date: 12.23:2013 Time: 2:01 am

_______________________________________

Dear Miss Samantha,

It was a pleasure seeing you tonight. I hope you will allow me to call upon you again. I hope you don’t think I was too forward. And I hope in time you will trust me enough to give me more than just your email as a form of outside contact.

Sincerely Michael Manning.

So proper, I think, and it dawns on me that he probably was telling the truth when he said it was his first time hiring a stripper. My heart flutters.

I hit the reply button.

From: [email protected]

RE: Hello

Date: 12.34:2013 Time: 2:06 pm

_______________________________________

Dear Michael,

It was a pleasure meeting you in the Sanctuary. I hope to meet you there soon again.

Samantha

Is that too vague? I mustn’t encourage him too much. I’m not going to give him
any
more information. He must never find out that it’s actually me, Scarlett. If I marry him and seduce him into falling in love with the ‘real’ me, Samantha will just slip into oblivion, never to surface again. I hit the send button.

One minute later, I see a reply from Michael.

From: [email protected]

RE: Vague

Date: 12.23:2013 Time: 2:09 am

_______________________________________

Dear Samantha,

Why so vague? You know that eventually you will give in to me. I know you felt more than just your duty to your work when you were kissing me today, if I’m not too bold to say. I will be visiting the Sanctuary daily until I earn your trust.

Sincerely, Michael Manning

I smile
. He wants me.
But then I frown. He wants the counterfeit me.
Crap.
Maybe I have to give my notice in to Laila sooner so the real me has a chance. I don’t want to, because I still need to make ends meet between now and my imminent high-paying divorce. I hit the reply button.

From: [email protected]

RE: I can’t forget about you

Date: 12.23:2013 Time: 2:11 am

_______________________________________

Dear Michael,

It’s not a trust issue. I never date anyone I meet at work. I hope you will respect my professional boundaries. But I do hope you will call on me at work again soon.

Samantha

I close the laptop, not wanting to discuss it further. I know Samantha will have to break his heart, but then have Scarlett be there to catch it. This is getting too complicated, just like Anne said it would. I put my laptop on my desk, hop back into bed feeling like I’m at war with myself. Will the good girl or the bad girl win?

Next morning, Michael arrives fifteen minutes early and I’m not quite ready. I open the door and he kisses me lightly on the lips before entering. I smile, thinking about our time in the Sanctuary last night. He looks hot as usual. He’s cut his hair and looks really sharp in his crisp, white shirt.

I offer him a cup of coffee and head upstairs and finish doing my hair. Hopping down the steps, I see he’s studying the few paintings I’ve managed to produce over the years. Of course, they’re nothing compared to the great ones like Picasso and Monet.

“Did you paint these?” Michael asks.

I reply with a yes.

“You are a very talented artist. I love how you’ve captured the light and depth in them.”

I smile. “Thank you.”

“Have you ever tried selling these?”

“No. I just painted them for myself, really. I don’t want to make a career out of it,” I say.

“If you ever reconsider, I would be more than happy to help,” Michael says.

“Thanks.”

He walks over to me, a spring in his step.

“Happy today?” I ask.

“Yes, I had a great evening last night.”

My heart drops. Geez, this is problematic. “Really? What did you do?”

“Oh, just hung out with a friend.”

I’m not going to meddle. “Sounds like fun.”

“The best.” He smiles “Ready to pick out a wedding dress?”

My insides turn to water. “A wedding dress?”

“You know, a white dress that you’re going to get married in—?”

I shoot him a don’t-mess-with-me glance. “I know what a wedding dress is. Where are we going?”

“There’s a great place right next to the mall off of Main Street. They do invitations and Tuxedos and cakes. We could get everything taken care of in one stop.”

“Great,” I say. I’m glad I did my hair up today. It will look nice with the dress. Then I realize I really want Anne there. Even though this isn’t my actual wedding, I still would like her to come. But then I remember. This is a business deal, not an actual wedding.

“And I thought we might as well have the ceremony and reception in my back yard, what do you think?” Michael says.

“But it’s winter.”

“We’ll have a tent and have the official ceremony inside in the ballroom. Would you mind a Catholic wedding?”

I try to keep my emotions out of this. I hadn’t anticipated that I’d feel so stressed, and even finding myself wanting the wedding to be planned a certain way. “A Catholic wedding is fine.”

“Splendid. My mother will love that. Ready?” Michael says.

We head to his car, a silver Audi SUV this time. He opens my door and then gets in on his side. Before he drives off, he kisses me deeply, and in the back of my mind I hope he doesn’t recognize the kiss.

He looks happy today, giddy even. Turning the radio on, he asks, “What type of music do you like?”

“Depends on what mood I’m in. But around Christmas time I usually like Christmas songs.”

He turns to a station playing
Jingle Bell Rock,
and sings along.

To my surprise, he’s a pretty good singer and I smile because he just looks so cheerful. Goofy cheerful. I attribute it to my alter self last night, but I’m definitely not happy that she has this effect on him. I want him to like
me
!

We’re at
Eternally Yours
in 25 minutes. Three women come to my attention immediately, and I feel like a princess. We sit down in the back by a consultation station and Gail, a chipper young blond, hands me a gigantic book.

“Please let me know which type of wedding dress you are looking for.” Gail smiles warmly and she looks genuinely excited for me.

I flip through the catalogue and pick out a couple of styles I think I might like to try on.

”Now, some brides don’t like the groom to see the wedding dress before the actual wedding ceremony. Is that the case here?” Gail says.

“No,” both Michael and I say in unison. We smile at each other.

Before Gail takes me to the dressing room she has Michael sit down and wait on a very plush couch in the showroom. A large circular platform is situated in front of three huge mirrors. There’s a crystal chandelier in the ceiling and there are wedding gowns everywhere.

“We’ll be back soon, Mr. Manning,” Gail says and escorts me out. The dressing rooms are gigantic, and when I enter, they’ve already hung seven dresses in my room.

“Do any of these interest you Ms. Hansen?” Gail asks.

I pick out the one I like the most. It has a deep scoop neck with thin straps. The waist is a drop waist and the skirt, a long fine chiffon, with a flowing chapel train. I love it.

Gail helps me walk out to Michael. The moment I step in the room, he stands up. Such a gentleman. But then I see something has changed in his eyes. He stares at me for a moment, and then says, “You look—amazing, Scarlett.”

I take my place on the platform and look in the mirror. The dress shows off all my nice features, my full bosom, my long sloping neck, and my firm arms.

“Shall we try the next one?” Gail says.

I shake my head. “I don’t want to mess it up. This is the one.”

“How about a veil?”

“No,” I say. I want my hair down.

“Jewelry?” Gail persists.

“Absolutely,” I say.

Once I’ve picked out a wedding tiara and chandelier earrings, Michael approaches the podium. He reaches out his hand and there’s unmistakably something different in the way he looks at me.

“You look absolutely amazing,” he says.

“Yes, you said that before,” I tease. I beam at him and he steps up to the platform with me. Looking in the mirror, I note that we make a striking couple. He grabs me around my waist, dips me, and then kisses me.

The clerks sigh.

I can’t help but wonder if he really is starting to like me, or if this is all a show. It’s a show! my subconscious yells.

“Now for the flowers, the invitations, the cake and the tuxedo,” Gail says.

Once we’re finished, I’m famished. Michael takes me out to lunch to a small café called Nellie’s right down the road. We sit in a booth across from each other and he orders us a pizza to share.

“I’m exhausted, how about you?” he says.

“Yes, and starving.” I laugh. “I think it will be a lovely wedding.”

“Of course. No expense will be spared for my future wife.” Michael’s phone rings and he answers it. “Yes?”

I look around the small café. The walls are painted green, but it definitely looks like it could use a facelift.

“Yes, we picked that all out today. And we decided on December 31st.” He looks at me. “The colors are yellow and—?”

“Fuchsia,” I fill him in. I assume he’s speaking with his mom.

He nods and winks. “—Fuchsia. No, we’re going to have the ceremony and wedding at my house. Invite whomever you’d like. Sure, one moment.” He hands me the phone.

I take the phone, not really too eager to talk with his mom. “Hi.”

“Hi, Dear. I wanted to see if you’d come over to my house tomorrow for lunch?” Diane says.

I can’t say no, even though that’s what I want to do. Alone? A small panicky voice says: You’ll never fool her! Don’t go
!
But I have no choice. “Sure, I’d love to come, what time?” I must be out of my mind.

“How is noon, dear?”

“Sounds perfect,” I say. Perfectly horrible!

“That way we can spend a little one-on-one time and get to know each other better,” Diana says.

“That sounds wonderful,” I lie.

“Until tomorrow then. And Michael will give you my address.” Diana hangs up and I hand the phone back to Michael.

He takes a sip of his beer. “Lunch with my mother, huh?” He looks amused.

“Ok, I’m like panicking here, and you think it’s funny?” I huff.

“She’s not going to find out. I’ve covered all my tracks,” he says.

What does that mean? “Is that something you’re an expert in?” I tease.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it is.” He looks smug, but then takes my hand. “I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you for helping me out with my predicament. I know it isn’t going to be easy for you.”

He’s so damn sexy when he’s serious, and I love that he’s holding my hand right now. “Thanks, for the offer. I don’t know what I’d do without it either.” We sit for a moment, our eyes holding each other’s gaze.

The waitress comes with our pizza and Michael squeezes my hand before he lets go.

“So what’s next?” I ask.

“Want to spend the night at my house?”

“I—can’t tonight. How about Friday or Saturday night?” I say.

“Maybe I can sleep at your house tonight then?” Michael says.

“Well, I work late every night this week.” Totally not a lie. “There’s this restaurant that had some extra work and I really need the money.”

Michael pauses. “You know, I wouldn’t be opposed to supporting you during our engagement phase and during our marriage.”

I feel stupid. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know you didn’t, but you are really helping me out, and it’s the least I can do.”

“I’d feel better about it if you didn’t,” I say, unable to swallow the little pride I still have left.

“Well, think about it at least. But back to tonight. I don’t mind waiting for you at your house. That is if you’re okay with it.” He smiles a mischievous smile.

I’d love to have him wait for me. “Okay. So tonight then?”

“Tonight’s great.”

Michael drops me off at home and we’ve agreed that I hide my front door key in the stucco pot on my front porch. He has to go to work and pack his bags to come over.

After I finish my laundry, I’m off to the Black Chapel. I take the same detour route to work as before, afraid if I don’t I might have one of Mrs. Manning’s stalker detectives after me.

Anne hugs me when I arrive. “So how was the Sanctuary?” She smirks.

“Great,” I say. “Michael still wants my phone number, but I am refusing to give it to him. I did give him my email, though.”

“You are one risqué girl,” Anne says.

“It is getting difficult to keep up with. But in a few weeks it will all be over.” I grimace.

“Are you sure you want it to be over?”

“I just wish he’d fall for the right me,” I say.

Anne turns to me, working on her up-do. “You know, you keep saying that, but are you sure which girl is really the real you?”