Lady Who Loves Red

The note was signed by Chase; with the same rolling swirling letters I knew by heart. Suddenly, I realized I knew a great deal more about Chase than I'd been aware of. I glanced down the hallway and then back at the staffer.

"He's in the penthouse. Would you like to wait until later to join him or perhaps you'd like to go ... now?"

With shaking hands, I placed the now sweat-stained paper back inside its perfectly sized envelope and pointed my index finger up. I couldn't speak but from the waiter's expression, he knew what I meant. I followed him as he opened the elevator for me. We gave one another quick, nervous smiles.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, I was on the floor of the penthouse. The waiter wheeled the cart of ice with the Dom and me in tow as he knocked on the door. When I heard the click of the lock unlatching, I felt like I had crested the highest rollercoaster peak and I was about to plunge downward, my hair flying upward.

"Hi, Lady Who Loves Red," he said with a charming smile. Chase had scruffy facial hair that was trimmed very closely--and whether he knew it or not--he was paying homage to the 1980's U.S. pop music era. His black hair was styled with the bangs shifted to the left, slightly suspended and the sides were shaved. It was lusciously thick, and I wanted to compliment him but when I opened my mouth, nothing came out.

"Perhaps, you'd like to step inside?" The waiter suggested to me, kindly offering assistance through my fumble. I closed my mouth and nodded politely. Chase stepped away from the door and welcomed me inside.

"So, would you like to try a glass of that champagne?" Chase asked as the waiter wheeled in the cart with the ice bucket and promptly left. I nodded as he showed me to the set of comfortable lounge furniture set off to the side behind a glass coffee table. Everything was sparkling and the room felt inviting. I slid onto one of the black velvet chairs as he handed me the flute of champagne.

I drank it, leaving the mark of my red lips pressed to the glass. At the very least, when I walked out of here, that would be a reminder of me. Perhaps he'd like to see it. I had certainly hoped so.

When he flashed the bottle at me, I could see the year said was 1988 which was quite pricey. The champagne wasn't what I was used to. I had only drunk cheap wines in the past. Maybe I'd had a few glasses of bubbly while at a party or fundraiser but nothing like this.

He sat beside me, his white fitting dress shirt showing off his defined pectoral muscles pulling in between the buttons revealing a bit of dark hair underneath. We clinked glasses and then drank. I don't remember much conversation which was odd since I had been so curious about him for years. The rest was a blur.

I vaguely remembered having one or two more glasses. Snippets and flashes of memories of him and I in passionate kisses--our mouths and bodies entangled with one another--were interspersed but nothing was clear until I woke the next morning.

I had glanced down at myself as the sun was filtering in through the half-pulled curtains. I had to shade my eyes due to the screaming headache resulting in photophobia. I glanced at my surroundings then down at my porcelain skin, bare for all the world to see.

I gasped and scrambled under the covers. Chase was sleeping soundly beside me, his face smeared in my red lipstick. His hair was messy, and he too had nothing on. Between us was a crumpled official-looking form complete with imprints of my red lipstick kisses and a Polaroid picture of us. We were gleefully holding hands up for the camera showing off our new ... rings. What in the world!?

Glancing down at my left hand, in that same fluttering sunlight that had blinded me a moment before, reflected the diamond that sat on a white-gold band. I didn't need that much when it came to jewelry but it was beautiful. What happened and why did we go down that road?

I had picked up the piece of paper and read the marriage certificate with our names on it. I stared at Chase and then back at the picture of us with our rings. As my eyes ventured farther down the bed, I noticed the plethora of photos spread out like a deck of cards. What were those additional Polaroids of?

I pawed through them noting the progression of events. It was clear we were drinking, then dancing, then kissing. After that, the snapshots told me that we were both naked and in different sexual positions together throughout the night. Half-covering my face I felt anxiety and shame fill my chest but I couldn't stop looking at us together.

I was sitting forward after I finished seeing the unseen with my head in my hands, and I felt the slightest shift in weight along with a tiny tug against the white sheets. Chase was sitting up. I couldn't bear to allow our eyes to meet but then I felt his hand on my back. When I glanced over my shoulder at him, he gave me the sweetest smile and I couldn't believe that Chase Barrington could ever be ... sweet. That all changed when he saw the certificate.

He had stood up staring at it, pacing back and forth, now his hand in his hair, his body as nude as the day he was born. As I was feeling less afraid about our adventure, he was panicking. I stood up and when I was close to him, a smile crossed his face as he stared at my naked body. I ran back to cover myself up.

"What the h*ll happened last night?" I asked.

"You don't know?"

"No," I said. As he studied my face, I could tell he was sizing me up and then he sat back with a look of understanding. Chase could read people in a heartbeat. He was always good at that. It was how he knew exactly what would get me upstairs with him.

"Well, we have no other choice here. We'll have to get it annulled. I mean, I'm Chase Barrington and you are ..." He trailed off picking up our marriage certificate. "Janessa Garnet." I couldn't help but laugh about that. When he heard my titter, he turned his attention to me. "What?"

"You don't even know me, yet you wanted to marry me."

"I never said I wanted to," he remarked with a slight bend to his dark eyebrows. He was agitated.

"Well, you must have at one point. I couldn't have married you by putting you under duress."

"Who knows what happened?" he muttered. "What a bizarre situation."

"But now that we are in this situation," I paused. I didn't want it to be over yet. It wasn't just because he was Chase Barrington. I knew we had a connection even before we'd ever spoken. He must have felt it too. "Let's give it a shot."

"A shot? Do you have any idea who I am?" he asked. Again, I couldn't hold back tiny giggles. He glared at me. "You're not seeing the impact of this impulsive decision. I can't marry some random person. My name and articles are posted in newspapers. My face is splashed across technology magazines all over the world."

"I think we really have something."

"Why don't you pick up your sh*t and get out? I'll have this fixed in ten minutes."

"No!" I felt overwhelmed with fear, sadness, and determination. I was surprised at my sudden outburst. Chase sat down beside me and gave me a warm smile.

"You really think it can work with me and you?" he asked. I could see now that the warmth in his smile had been converted to amusement. I covered myself up more and hugged my knees to my chest. That only encouraged him to edge closer to me.

I remember the way his fingers felt through my hair as he gently pulled on it. Then his strong hand traveled to my back and rubbed it. I wanted to be touched. It had been a very long time since I had last been with anyone.

"I think there's something to us," I whispered. When he came close to kissing me I remember my tears were falling down my cheeks but he caught them with his lips and hand. As he was petting me, I felt the same chemistry I had when we crossed paths in the auditorium. It was like we were meant to be touching, even the parts of us that couldn't be seen.

"What do you propose?" he asked as he ran his mouth along my neck, his kisses in rhythm with the caress of his hands on my face, then my back.

"Three months. A trial of three months," I whispered as he made me whimper, touching my bare body on my most sensitive areas. When he laid me down and pulled the sheets down to look at me, I desperately held back sobs. He saw me as beautiful and no matter who thought that it was always an amazing feeling. And that feeling made me never want to be away from him ever again.

***

I turned to Luca, and he was staring into my eyes, searching my face.

"You remember?" he asked.

"So much."

"Then you must know now that he's your creator."

"I still don't know what you mean. If you're saying he breathed life into my empty shell of an existence, then yes. You're correct."

"Eh?" he asked. Then he entered my space. "What happened? I asked you to remember something but now you're in nostalgia-land or somethin'. He ain't your friend."

"I know that!" I shouted. Luca stepped back with a pensive expression. I watched him as he sat down on the couch. I lowered myself beside him and put my face in my hands just as I had with Chase that next morning after our wild night. Without visual confirmation, I could tell Luca was watching.

"What you're goin' through is normal. Don't feel ashamed or embarrassed."

"You think you know me and how I feel?" I asked with a scathing tone. Luca was silent, momentarily.

"Even if I didn't, you're experiencin' a big loss. It's bound to hurt."

Underneath my insecurity and feelings of awkwardness, I knew Luca was right. Even with the newness of our split, I knew that my plan to be steeled against the world wasn't going to work. I was trying to prove to myself that I was strong and that I wouldn't allow Chase to whittle me away to nothing, but there was no time for ego now.

"I don't know why but I trust you," I said as I turned to face him. He gave me a reassuring half-smile, his elbow on his knee, his face on his fist. "Tell me what you know."