around to face him. “What’s gotten into you? We’ve been over all of this before.”
“You just don’t get it. Do you stop and think for one second about how all this makes me feel? What about me? I’m the one that should be your wife. I’m the one you’ve been screwing the last three years. I’m the one that puts up with your bull day after day.”
“Bull?”
“Yeah, bull.” She snatched her arm from his firm grip and then stabbed him in the chest with an acrylic nail. “Everything is about your career. The right school. The right job. The right wife. What am I, chopped liver?”
“No, baby.” Randall lifted the hand planted in the center of his chest and brought it up to his lips to kiss her fingers. “You’re my heart. You know, I can’t live without you. You’ll always be in my life.”
“What—as your mistress?”
“As my true love.” He pulled her stiff body into his arms. “You know how the game is played. I’m striving to be one of the most powerful men in Washington, and I can’t do that without you in my corner.”
“Then put a ring on my finger.”
“I can’t, baby. Not with your father’s criminal record, and that bit of shoplifting you did back in high school.”
“I was a teenager,” she protested.
“What about that concealed weapons charge when you were in college?”
“It wasn’t my gun. My ex-boyfriend—”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’d be crucified in the media and my career would be over before it ever got started.”
“Jesus, Randall. What did you do, run a background check on me?” She tried to wiggle out of his arms, but he refused to let her go.
“Of course I did.” He laughed. “I’m not taking any chances, and I don’t like surprises.”
“Let me go.” She shoved at his chest while angry tears spilled over her thick lashes and raced down her cheeks. “Damn you. Let me go!”
Determined for her to see reason, Randall tightened his grip. “Baby, I’m doing this for the both of us,” he cooed and rained a few kisses against her turned cheek. “Trust me. I’m going to always take care of you. I promise.”
To his surprise, she began to sob.
“But I don’t want you to marry her,” she whined.
“I know, baby.” Randall kissed her again. Slowly the fight drained from her body and he held her as she slumped to the floor. He gently pushed her thick mane of curls and tilted her chin toward him, so that their eyes could meet. “I want you to remember that even though I’m marrying Isabella, it’s you that I love. Understand?”
A small whimper passed through her lips and Randall smiled and then proceeded to make love to her on the foyer’s hardwood floor.
After a month, Isabella slowly warmed to the idea of marrying Randall. At the very least, she was enjoying the attention her diamond ring brought. Family members, friends and even strangers would stop her and gawk at the sparkling jewel. Most of the women would cast coveted glances over at Isabella. They took in her plain attire, her uninspired hairdo and her clean but makeup-less face. She knew the question dancing in their minds: How did a plain Jane like her land a prize like Randall?
Isabella basked in their jealousy—mainly because beautiful women had never been jealous of her before. The whole experience was rather...nice.
This night, however, Randall and her parents were hosting one incredible engagement party. All of her father’s big political movers and shakers on Capitol Hill put in an appearance and her fiancé looked as though he’d won the lottery.
She, however, endured an endless line of she-wolves. Randall’s legion of female admirers smiled in her face and congratulated her; but the moment they walked away, their constant buzzing behind their pretty manicures launched Isabella’s insecurities to an all-time high.
“She better keep a tight rein on Randy if she knows what’s good for her,” Felicia Ledford buzzed to her girlfriend as she sashayed past Isabella.
“Oh, just ignore them,” Keri said, taking her by the arm and leading her to the bar where her other sorors, Rayne and Sylvia Graham, were already nursing their drinks. “They’re just jealous.”
“I guessed that much,” Isabella mumbled.
Keri rolled her eyes and shook her head. “If you’re going to be a politician’s wife, you’re going to have to develop tougher skin.”
“You sound like my mother.”
“Well, your mother is right—for once.” Keri glanced around and drained the rest of her drink. “In this town when they sense weakness, they move in for the kill.”
Realizing the truth of her best friend’s words, Isabella stiffened her spine.
“That’s my girl,” Keri praised. “Now let’s see if we can get ourselves another drink. Bartender,” she called.
“There you are, Izzy,” Waqueisha Tenney, another sorority sister, rushed over to the bar in a tight, gold metallic dress and surveyed the four women. “Looks like you guys have found the best place to hide.”
The Italian bartender placed two cocktails in front of Keri and Isabella.
“I’ll have what they’re having,” Waqueisha said, and then leaned over to whisper in Isabella’s ear. “Girl, I hate to tell you this, but your parents sure know how to throw one boring-ass party. I figured you guys would have Jay-Z or Akon bumping in here.”
Isabella laughed. “Yeah, right. You know Randall doesn’t like rap music.”
“Then what does he listen to—Tony Bennett?”
Isabella hid her answer beneath a loud cough.
“What? I didn’t catch that.”
“Alabama,” she blurted.
Her two friends stared at her, and then Waqueisha asked, “You mean the country group?”
“They’re not so bad...once you get used to them,” Isabelle lied, shrugging.
After another long stare, her friends covered their crooked smiles by turning up their cocktail glasses.
“Next time,” Waqueisha said when she came up for air, “you come to me and I’ll hook you up with a real party.”
“Speaking of which,” Keri jumped in. “Where’s my invitation to that Kidd Rhymes release party in Atlanta? Everyone’s buzzing about it all over the blogs.”
A smile exploded across Waqueisha’s face. Her event planning business had taken
