should scratch their eyes out,” Keri snapped.
“C’mon,” Sylvia laughed. “One of the hottest bachelors in town? It’s a woman’s natural instinct to come and see who’d finally roped him into marriage.”
“And then laugh when they see me,” Isabella moped, snatching a new Kleenex from the offered pink box.
“Aww, now,” the sorors chimed sympathetically.
Isabella shrugged away from them and turned to face the mirror. “Just look at me.” She was a bigger mess now that her tears had ruined her makeup. “How did I land someone like Randall?”
“It’s not the how that’s important,” Rayne said. “Only that you did.”
“But I want to look like someone that belongs on Randall Jarrett’s arm. And more importantly like someone who knows how to keep him.”
“Just like you wanted to prep for your honeymoon?” Keri asked, crossing her arms.
“Say what?” Waqueisha asked.
Keri quickly brought the other girls up to speed.
“You told her to buy some books?” Rayne and Waqueisha asked, incredulous.
“Figured she needed to start with the basics,” Keri defended.
Waqueisha rolled her eyes. “You need a new sex teacher and hot makeover. Lucky for you I’m available.”
The girls nearly choked on their laughter.
Waqueisha ignored them both. “You’re coming to Atlanta for my party, right?”
Isabella hesitated, but then decided why not and nodded.
“Great. While you’re there I’m going to teach you how to rock Randall’s world and give you a top of the line makeover.” She took Isabella by the shoulder and turned her back toward the mirror. “Mark my words. When you return to Washington, you’re going to be a brand-new woman.”
“Absolutely not,” Randall shouted, appalled. “I forbid you to go gallivanting around Atlanta with those loose Delta Phi Theta sisters of yours. Need I remind you that we’re supposed to be planning a wedding?”
Isabella stopped listening after the word “forbid.” In the seconds that followed her back stiffened and her face grew hot. Before she knew it, she was up on her feet and stalking toward her fiancé with her hands on her hips. When Randall turned from his office desk to wag a finger, he jumped back, surprised to see her so close and doubly surprised to see the anger glaring up at him.
“What do you mean you forbid me to go?” she said in a near growl. “You don’t own me.”
Randall blinked.
Isabella drew a deep breath and took a step back. She didn’t know whether it was the excessive amount of alcohol she had—three drinks—or residual anger from Randall’s ex-girlfriends showing up at her party. All she knew was that she was tired of being pushed around. “You know what?” she said, wiggling her engagement ring off her finger. “I think I made a mistake.”
“Whoa. Wait a minute.” Randall tossed up his hands, refusing to take the ring back from her. “Let’s slow down. I thought we were just having a discussion?”
“No. You were ordering me around like you thought this damn ring meant I was bought and paid for,” she hissed and then threw the diamond at him. Never in her life had she stood up to anyone like this. She found the experience exhilarating. Pivoting on her heels, she marched toward the door of Randall’s private study, but Randall made it there first and blocked her exit.
“Okay. Okay. Let’s calm down,” he said with clear panic written all over his face. “Obviously, I didn’t handle this well. I’m sorry.”
More like he was thinking about what a broken engagement would look like in the papers. “Move out of my way,” Isabella said calmly.
“You’re mad.”
“No shit.”
He jerked, stunned by the uncharacteristic language. “Fine. Fine. Go to Atlanta, if it means so much to you.” He acquiesced as if she held a gun to his head.
She stared at him, enjoying the feel of her newfound power. “Why did you invite your ex-girlfriends to the party?”
“What?”
Surely, he wasn’t going to play stupid. “They were all over the place, buzzing around hinting about...” She drew another breath; her courage waned at the thought of discussing his sex life.
“Hinting about what?”
“You know.” She straightened her shoulder. “How good you are—you know—in bed.”
He stared for a long moment and then finally burst out laughing. “Is that what all this is about? You’re jealous?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“C’mon, Isabella. I know you’ve never...but you can’t be that naïve. I’m thirty-two. Of course I’ve...dated around.”
“You mean slept around.”
He cocked his head at her; a bemused grin still on his face. “It’s all in the past.” He stepped forward and settled his hands on her shoulders. “I’m marrying you. Those women are only jealous and are trying to drive a wedge between us.”
“But why were they here at our engagement party?”
“C’mon. This is Washington. You know you don’t burn bridges in this town. Some of the women I’ve dated are some powerful women in their own right. What would it look like if I didn’t invite them?”
He smiled, but he looked like a cheap car salesman when he did it.
“Tell you what,” he said, dropping one arm and sliding the other across her to cradle her in a hug. “Go to Atlanta. Consider it a mini-vacation. If being with your friends is going to cheer you up then I’m all for it. But when you get back, I expect us to knuckle down on planning this wedding. I was thinking something like April 8th. What do you think?”
She didn’t say anything. She wanted him to release her.
“Good. Good,” Randall said, taking her silence as a yes. “Now why don’t you go home and get you some rest, uhm?” He looked down at her; his cheap car salesman’s smile still in place. Again, he took her silence as an agreement and he leaned down and planted a kiss in the center of her forehead.
When his arm finally fell from her shoulder, she headed toward the door.
“Wait. Wait.” Randall glanced around the floor and then rushed over to the other side of the room and retrieved her ring. “Don’t forget this.” He held up the diamond.
Isabella
