Patrick

Chapter 10

He wanted to put off them going to the Valentine’s night gala, but she insisted. It was an annual event with the entire society of rich people there with the pretense that they were celebrating love in their lives even if their marriages were on the verge of disaster! The theme this year was: ‘Love in a radical way,’ and the dress code was black and red instead of the traditional red and white. Linda was on the planning committee as well as the First Lady and the mayor’s wife. It was being held at the Royal Palm Hotel in the huge ballroom.

“I fear that you are going to have the baby on the road one of these days,” Patrick told her wryly as she applied eye shadow that blended into her skin tone. Her dress had been especially designed for her and was a tinted red Victorian style dress that flowed over her belly smoothly and came to her ankles. Patrick was wearing black tuxedo.

“I am sure there will be a doctor in that crowd, so we have nothing to worry about,” she said with an impish smile. She was wearing rubies in her lobes and around her neck, and he had given them to her early this morning as he wished her a happy Valentine’s Day. It was a Saturday, so he did not have to go into the office. “I love my gifts,” she told him, placing her hand over the fiery stones around her neck as she caught his eyes with hers in the mirror.

“I am glad,” he told her softly. He had another gift for her but had decided to give it to her later. “Ready?”

She nodded and reached for her long black cashmere coat to ward off the cold. He held her hand as they made their way down the spiral staircase. Linda and William had already left for the evening, and Patrick had decided to drive them there. He made sure she was securely buckled in before going around and taking his seat. The snow was piled on the ground and glistened like beautiful icicles in the night air.

She settled back against the leather seat of the Mercedes Benz and closed her eyes in contentment. She had been contemplating telling him that she was in love with him and not caring about whether or not he said it back to her. Ever since he got back from Europe, he had been more tender and loving to her, and she had a feeling that if he was not in love with her then he was getting there.

“Tired?” he asked her, glancing at her briefly.

“I spent most of the day in bed, remember?” she asked, turning her head to look at him, admiring the way the suit fitted him. But then again all of his suits were custom made.

“And we did not get any sleep,” he reminded her with a smile. He took one hand off the wheel and placed it on her thigh.

“Don’t start,” she warned him, feeling the heat of his flesh searing through the lace of her dress.

“I have no idea what you mean,” he told her innocently, rubbing his hand up and down her thigh.

She took his hand off her and placed it back onto the steering wheel.

“Spoil sport,” he muttered just as they arrived at the hotel.

He handed the keys to the valet and came around to take her hand and placed it firmly on his arm as they walked in. A smiling girl took their coats and ushered them into the ballroom already filled with people even though it was a little after nine.

Heads turned as they made their way into the room. Carrie had heard the rumors and the speculations as to how long they would be married for and the reason they had gotten hitched and knew that most of them were hoping that the union would fail. Since she had become a part of the society, she had sat at enough brunches and dinners and heard how these people often hope in anticipation and pleasure to hear about the downfall of another of their kind. She remembered at a dinner a few weeks ago how one of the ladies there had gloated about another of her supposed friends finally getting dumped by her husband, and Carrie had gotten up in the middle of the discussion and left the table. She smiled and nodded at several of them and made her way over to where Linda was standing with First Lady Melore Hawkins, a stunning African American woman who was as regal as she was a lady.

“Darling, take a load off,” Linda said, beckoning for one of waiters to get her a chair. She was dressed in a beautiful black couture dress that went very well with her ash blonde hair and her pale skin. “Patrick, go and mingle, your wife is in safe hands.”

Patrick nodded and squeezed Carrie’s hand before smiling at the First Lady and taking off.

“My dear, are you sure you should even be here?” Melore asked her, looking at her in concern.

Carrie had been so intimidated by the woman whom she had previously seen in the papers and on television the first time she had met her, but the woman had quickly put her at her ease.

“My husband is asking the same question, but this is officially my last social event for a while.” She looked around a bit. “I see the president is having an avid discussion with William.”

“Talking about the future of politics,” Linda said, shaking her head. “How about some fruit punch?” she asked her daughter-in-law.

Patrick returned to the table and swooped Carrie up for a spin around the dance floor. They had just finished dancing when a tall statuesquely beautiful African American woman came over to them.

“Leesa! When did you get back?” Patrick asked, giving her a quick hug.

The woman laughed huskily, her teeth very white against her purple lips. She had short hair that curled around her scalp and sloe-like dark brown eyes and her face had been plastered in almost every fashion magazine in the world. “Just a few days ago, honey.”