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Chapter 69: Her Engaged Foe.
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Wild Beauty: A Tale Of Love and Lust. Chapter 70: Goosebumps And Discreet Wishes.
Andrew, Capucine, Quentin and I are doing the whole double-dating thing for the first time on New Year's Eve. Quentin made reservations for us at Gordon Ramsey, the posh, Michelin-starred restaurant at Sloane Square, which is the perfect venue for a special occasion. As we ate, we praised the New French cuisine. Quentin called it "sublime" and Capucine referred to it as a "symphony of flavors." I think both of them sounds a bit pretentious, although it is a fair description of my pot-roasted belly of West Country pork with aubergine caviar, and of Andrew's roast Scottish gray-legged partridge with braised red cabbage—which I tasted more than once.Unfortunately, the interpersonal dynamic didn't live up to the food. The measure of success of any double date is how well the women get along, and Capucine and I just do not jell. On the surface, everything looks pleasant enough. She is extremely nice to me and very easy to talk to, but she came across as condescending. It is almost as i
Wild Beauty: A Tale Of Love and Lust. Chapter 71: Last Pound.
As the winter in London dragged on and my due date neared, Quentin doted on me more and more. It is as if he normally consult every article ever written on how to treat a pregnant woman. He had taken me to fabulous restaurants: Planque, The Clove Club and Petrus. He buys me lavish gifts—Jo Malone bath oils, a Valentino clutch, lingerie from Agent Provocateur—which he normally leaves on the bed and pretend to be just as surprised as I when I'd emerge from the bathroom to discover them. He doesn't fail to reassure me that I am only becoming more beautiful with every passing day. He even insisted that he can't see the zits (or "spots" as he called them) that are frequenting my nose and chin. He always talks about our future and also promised to take me to see exotic places he had traveled to: Botswana, Budapest, Bora Bora. Quentin promised me a wonderful life and makes me feel like a lucky woman. A saved woman. But, as I lay next to him every night, I can't shake the feeling that someth
Wild Beauty: A Tale Of Love and Lust. Chapter 72: Pit in the Stomach.
As I sat with Orla and Meg over tea at Orla's flat, I can't help the pit in my stomach that had returned in full force few days after my conversation with Quentin about my financial situation and how he has taken responsibility for my expenses and I haven't had peace since then. We sat at Orla's small kitchen table, watching Sophie ignore her vast array of toys in favor of pots pans that she scattered all over the kitchen.I confessed my misgivings to Orla and Meg. "I just don't know what's wrong with me. Something is just plaguing me."Orla nodded. "You're just feeling general anxiety over child-birth and motherhood. The whole scary journey ahead. And it can't help watching this!" She pointed at Sophie, rolled her eyes, and laughed."That has to be it," Meg agreed. She had recently announced the wonderful news that she, too, is pregnant. But she is in her very early weeks, with her own set of worries about miscarrying. "There's always something to fret about," she said. "Hmmm," Orl
Wild Beauty: A Tale Of Love and Lust. Chapter 73: Red is Valentine.
I suggested another double date with Andrew and Capucine. Although our first effort wasn't an overwhelming success but I want to give it another try. Quentin protested a bit, saying that he prefers to be alone with me. I informed him that where I came from, Valentine's is a cheesy, amateur nonevent and therefore we have two options: blow it off altogether and order a pizza, or share the evening with another couple. I told him that I am not going to be one of those silly couples sitting alone at a table, all dressed up and eagerly ordering off a jacked-up, prix-fixe menu, and that going to dinner with another couple would temper the whole cheese factor. Quentin reluctantly saw my point and reluctantly made reservations for four at Daphne's, an Italian restaurant in South Kesington. ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***Quentin and I drove to the restaurant for our Valentine's double date. We arrived right on time and waited for Andrew and Capucine. They showed up thirty minutes lat
Wild Beauty: A Tale Of Love and Lust. Chapter 74: Just "We"
Quentin barged into the room in the middle of my transforming hug with Andrew. At least it seems as if he was barging, given my mind-set, but more likely it is his usual dignified entry. I feel guilty. I have not cheated and I'll not cheat. Although Quentin couldn't read my mind. Neither could Andrew for that matter. By all appearances, I was only hugging a friend. Yet inside I am reeling. Andrew stood and walked over to the window, as if to give Quentin and me privacy. I feel like yelling out, "No. You stay here. You belong next to me." But instead I looked at Quentin, standing at the foot of the hospital bed with his erect posture, in his starched white shirt and perfect suit and tie. Despite our ordeal, he remained composed, unruffled, and steadfast. It is now clear to me why I have been confused about loving him, why I had wanted so much to love him. On paper, he is perfect: handsome doctor, committed lover, seeming savior. "What happens now?" I asked Quentin as I fiddled nervo
Wild Beauty: A Tale Of Love and Lust. Chapter 75: Sprig of Parsley.
I woke up to the *"grrring grrring"* ringing of Andrew's phone. Firstly, I hope it's not Quentin. And secondly, I still love Andrew. So my feelings aren't just an illusion rooted in near tragedy. I felt the mattress jostle as Andrew reached down to grab the phone. I can hear Capucine's French accent on the other line. "Right here," Andrew said into the phone. I think Capucine must have asked where I'm sleeping. The controlling, jealous, break-of-dawn maneuver is something I would have pulled in my former life, and I silently vowed that no matter what the circumstances of my future relationships, I will never behave that way again. It is selfish and unattractive. I opened my eyes to take a peek at Andrew's face and his face showed restrained annoyance—a reaction that I have seen not more than once. I shut my eyes back and pretended to be sleeping as he got out of bed and whispered fiercely in the hall that she is being ridiculous. "Were you not there witnessing the same ordeal last n
Wild Beauty: A Tale Of Love and Lust. Chapter 76: Familiar Speech.
For some days now, I have been relishing my cozy existence with Andrew while tolerating the seemingly incessant interruptions from Quentin. He phoned every few hours and visited daily on his way home from work. Sometimes he'd bring dinner, and I would be forced to spend the evening with him instead of Andrew. And because of Quentin's presence, Andrew will have to depart for Capucine. Sometimes I will pretend to be asleep, and he would simply leave me a note on his personal stationery, which, incidentally, is adorned with his family's coat of arms. It is sort of the touch that would have been right up my alley in the Trevor-fantasizing days. But recently, I prefer Andrew's no-nonsense, ruled yellow notepads. Now, I prefer anything and everything Andrew . . .******* ******* ******* ******* ******I woke up from my afternoon nap to see Quentin perched oddly in a straight-backed dining chair pulled up next to the bed. I had fallen asleep reading the US Weekly that Dixie so thoughtfully
Wild Beauty: A Tale Of Love and Lust. Chapter 77: Blue Candles.
I have successfully stayed two weeks in bed, no cramps and no blood. My baby boys will be so healthy. Andrew surprised me with a homemade chocolate cake to celebrate the milestone. He brought it to the bedroom on his wooden tray. A cake decorated with about thirty-seven blue candles, one for each week of my pregnancy, which he lit while singing, off-key, "Happy, Baby A and B!"I laughed, made a wish, and blew out the candles in two tries. "Blowing your candles twice because of two babies!" Andrew squealed. I giggled. "Really?""Oh yeah, hot mama . . .It's like . . . baby A *whoosh!* and baby B *whoosh!*," Andrew said while making blowing sounds and making a funny face. He cut the cake and served us each a big slice. I went for seconds, it tasted really good and then had thirds. I praised his baking efforts, especially the icing. We finished eating and he cleared our plates and tray. Andrew returned with a big box wrapped in buttermilk and blue polka-dotted paper. "You shouldn't h
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