Patrick

Chapter 5

She was required to attend numerous functions! And she was not supposed to repeat an outfit or a gown. As the wife of Patrick Copeland, she was required to sit in on various functions and take up the role of hosting dinner parties to the company’s varied business associates from many different countries. It was approaching November, and they had already been married for one month when she had her first run in with Sophia McBride. The woman had flown to Europe soon after their engagement had been announced and had gotten back into the country a few days ago. It was a gala put on by the First Lady to raise funds for abused children, and the guest list read like a who’s who in society. She had started showing a little bit and the papers had started speculating about the fact that she had been pregnant before the wedding. She was wearing a beautiful deep blue lace dress that wrapped around her waist gently with a full skirt that came just above her knees. The bodice cupped her bosom lovingly, and she was wearing a thin platinum necklace with a sapphire pendant that was a part of her jewelry collection. Her hair had been done by the same stylist from the wedding and was twisted into an intricate chignon at the nape of her neck with several curls kissing her cheeks. They had just entered the large ballroom of the Royal Crown Hotel, and Patrick had left her to talk to some associates when she turned and was facing the woman. Sophia’s green eyes blazed with hatred before she smiled maliciously as she looked at the woman who had hedged her out of becoming Mrs. Patrick Copeland. She had on a slinky black gown that looked great with her skin and hair and the confidence of knowing that she was rich and pampered beyond her wildest dreams. There were two women with her, and it was rumored that they were hangers on because they enjoyed favors from her.

“If it isn’t the esteemed Mrs. Copeland,” she jeered. “Tell me, darling, how is the waitressing business these days? Oops!” She put a delicate hand to her rose colored lips and looked at Carrie innocently. “You are no longer a waitress, are you?”

“No, but I can see that you are still a bi*ch in couture,” Carrie told her mildly. She watched as the woman’s eyes flashed with anger and heard the collective gasps of the two women beside her.

“Do you know who you are dealing with?” she hissed.

“Of course I do,” Carrie told her scornfully. “You are the rich bi*ch who believes that her daddy’s money gives her the right to say or do anything she pleases. Am I right so far?”

She had no idea that they had attracted quite a good amount of attention or that Patrick was a little behind her.

“You are going to regret this.”

“I already regret breathing in the same air as you.” She turned and bumped into her husband. He reached out a hand to steady her, his eyes unreadable.

“Is there a problem here?” he asked the three women.

“You need to tell your wife how to behave at functions like these,” Sophia said in a freezing tone.

Carrie turned around to respond but felt the pressure of her husband’s hand on her arm. “My wife,” he responded, drawling the words, “has quite a mind of her own, and I am afraid I cannot tell her what to say. Why don’t you and your minions go and join your parents over there by the First Lady?”

Sophia stared at the man she still loved and was still pining for and felt the hatred burning deep inside her. Without a word, she wheeled away with the two women hurrying after her.

“You would do well to stay clear of her,” Patrick told her coolly, letting go of her arm.

Carrie felt her joy of him defending her dashed to pieces.

“I am not afraid of her,” she bristled.

“You should be,” he said, raking her with his blue eyes. “I will not be around to defend you all the time.”

“I don’t need you to defend me. I am not some helpless woman who needs a man to defend her,” she told him coldly and walked away.

He sighed in irritation as he watched her walk away admiring the s*xy way she moved. “Damned stubborn woman!” he muttered to himself, a slow smile lighting his face as he remembered what she had told Sophia. She had spunk! He had to give her that!

*****

Sophia seethed with rage as she watched Carrie for the rest of the evening. How dare that little nonentity talk to her like that and how could he defend her? With a faint sob, she scoured the room for someone to take her rage out on and her eyes lighted on his father. William Copeland had made a pass at her several years ago, and she had turned him down because she had been interested in his son, but this time she wanted revenge. Pasting a smile on her face, she made her way over to where he was talking to some businessmen and weighed in on the discussion. His wife was not around as she was one of the people chairing the event and was having a discussion with the First Lady. Very soon, the other men left and they were standing there by themselves.

“How are you, Sophia?” he asked her kindly.

“I am holding on. Thank you for asking, William.” She made her voice sound tremulous. “I need to talk to you for a minute in private.”

“Of course,” he said immediately and guided her to a private room off the hall. He told the concierge who doffed his cap at them that they were not to be disturbed.

“What’s on your mind, my dear?” He took her arm and led her to one of the sofas in the room.