Fight for Love Page 11

  “You look beautiful.” The stylist’s encouraging smile appeared behind Rebekah in the full-length mirror. The younger woman smoothed her hands down the haute couture halter gown in printed silk organza. “How do you feel?”

  Rebekah took a deep, calming breath and released it through her lipsticked lips. “Nervous.”

  “There’s nothing to be nervous about. You look fabulous.”

  Easy for you to say.

  She wouldn’t be the one walking the red carpet at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre tonight. With butterflies running rampant in her stomach, Rebekah took another deep breath and assessed her reflection.

  She had to admit, the pastel colors were flattering against her dark skin, and since Rafael liked her in lighter colors, she knew he’d appreciate what he saw. The full, flowing skirt of the dress draped along the carpet and made her feel elegant and stylish.

  She and Rafael were on their way to the movie premiere of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson’s latest action flick. When Rafael started wrestling for the WWE, Dwayne had advised him on how to control his wrestling image, based on his own years of experience in the business. Even after Dwayne left wrestling for Hollywood, he and Rafael had remained friends.

  “This one is my favorite,” Rebekah said with finality.

  Thanks to a few phone calls from Lydia, since yesterday afternoon, dresses, undergarments, and shoes had been arriving at the house. Of all the dresses she’d received, Rebekah liked this one the best for comfort and style.

  “We should see what Mr. Lopez thinks.”

  Rebekah nodded her agreement, and after one last look at her reflection, she followed the stylist out the door to the living room.

  “…now is not a good time,” Rafael was saying as they entered.

  His eyebrows were drawn together in an angry frown, and the white-knuckled grip on his cell phone was so tight she wouldn’t have been surprised if it shattered in his grasp. When he noted their entrance, his face lightened immediately.

  “I have to go. I’ll call you later,” he said in a curt tone.

  Rebekah studied his features. Dressed in a classic tuxedo and bow tie, he epitomized raw sex appeal, but she noted the tension around his mouth and the emotion swirling in his eyes.

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  “Nothing for you to worry about,” he said with a crooked smile.

  Normally, his smile would have her swooning, but it didn’t work this time because she knew something was amiss, and he was keeping it from her.

  He took her hand and prompted her into a slow twirl. “Is this the one you’ve decided on?” he asked, his voice filled with male appreciation.

  He purposely changed the subject, and she allowed him to—for now. She didn’t want to spoil the evening, but she intended to question him further at a later time.

  “Yes. How do I look?” She placed one hand on her hip and posed sideways for him.

  “Caliente.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I. You’re going to steal the show.”

  “Now for the shoes, and you’ll be ready to go,” the stylist interjected, sounding pleased.

  Minutes later, they stood at the front door, saying their goodbyes to Ricardo, with promises to have The Rock’s autograph with them upon their return. He did his happy dance and then hurried off to his room.

  In the back of the hired limo, Rebekah threaded her fingers through Rafael’s and rested her head on his shoulder as she listened to the instructions from his male publicist. She marveled at how much Rafael’s life had changed, and she recognized the loyalty and professionalism of everyone he employed. They supported him and made him look good.

  When he had asked her to attend the premiere with him, her initial thought was to decline. Then she remembered all the wrestling bouts she’d missed in the early years of their marriage, and she changed her mind. Although this wasn’t his event, he wanted her by his side, and she would support him.

  When they pulled up outside Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, an intimidating crowd of thousands waited for the arrival of the celebrities. Her stomach tangled into knots, but she forced herself to calm down. Rafael gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before he slipped from the vehicle. She and his publicist followed soon after but hung back out of the line of the cameras while he posed for photographers. Some yelled out his name, some called him by his wrestling name, La Sombra. Others yelled out questions, which he didn’t answer, only smiled.

  He answered questions posed by a couple of the celebrity entertainment correspondents who interviewed him for a few minutes each. He then walked up to the barricade where the onlookers stood, signed a few autographs, and shook hands with the excited fans. As he stepped back onto the red carpet, the publicist prodded Rebekah forward. Rafael reached for her hand, making sure to use his body to protect her from the cameras. That didn’t stop the photographers from their rapid-fire camera snapping and from hurtling questions at them.

  “Rafael, Rafael, who’s the lovely lady?”

  “Is she the future Mrs. Lopez?”

  “Is your lady friend an actress? What’s her name?”

  Without stopping or answering questions, they entered the theatre.

  * * * *

  “Ricky, time for lunch, sweetie,” Rebekah called from the kitchen.

  Rafael and Lydia had gone to a ribbon-cutting ceremony for one of the new gyms that was opening. She and Ricardo were the only ones at the house since she sent the housekeeper home with pay for the day. Just as she set the two plates of food on the table by the window, the telephone rang. She recognized the number as her brother’s.

  “Hi, Adam.”

  “Bekah, it’s me!” Her sister’s excited voice came through on the line.

  “Samirah? What are you doing back in the country?”

  “When did you last check your email?” her sister countered. “I sent you guys a message letting you know I’d be back for a couple of weeks. I just got in yesterday, and I’m staying at Adam’s.”

  “I know you’re going up to Atlanta to see Mom and Dad, right?”

  “Of course. I’ll spend a few days there before I leave the country again.” Her younger sister could never stay put for too long. She spoke several languages fluently and flitted around the world from one exciting locale to another. “What are you up to?”

  “I just made lunch for me and Ricky—ham and cheese in corn tortillas.”

  “Sincronizadas? Oh, man, I love those things. The best ones I ever had were at this little roadside shack in Chiapas. Ooh, I can still taste them.”

  “Yeah, well, whatever they’re called, Ricky and I are hooked on them, thanks to Rafael’s housekeeper.” She walked toward the bedroom. “Ricky, lunch is ready.”

  “Coming, Mom.”

  Rebekah headed back toward the kitchen. “Samirah, you really need to stop eating just anywhere. You’re going to get sick one of these days.”

  “I have a cast iron stomach,” her sister said. “Anyway, how else do you expect me to get the true experience of a culture if I don’t eat what the locals eat?”

  Rebekah sighed. “I just want you to be careful. I don’t know where you got this sense of adventure from.”

  Samirah laughed. “I don’t either, but I guess someone has to have some fun in the family. Adam’s a square and you’re Miss Goody-Goody. Have you earned your halo and wings yet?”

  Rebekah picked up one of the toasted corn tortillas filled with ham and oozing with cheese. “Is that why you called—to give me a hard time?” she asked before taking a bite. She sat in a chair at the table.

  “No. I called because I wanted to ask you what you’re doing inside People magazine.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Don’t tell me you didn’t know?”

  “No, I didn’t know!”

  Samirah laughed. “Well, you’re going to love this—seeing as how you like being in the spotlight.” Rebekah groaned. “Don’t worry, it’s not bad. You
look amazing in that dress, by the way. So, I’m standing in line at the grocery store—because our dear brother has already put me to work because he’s letting me crash at his place for free—and I pick up the latest issue of People. I’m flipping through the magazine, and the next thing I know, I see a picture of you and Rafe. He’s holding your hand, and you’re just a step or two behind him. The caption reads, ‘Who’s the mystery woman with Rafael Lopez?’ You’re famous!”

  Samirah’s exuberance was not catching. “I don’t want to be famous.”

  “Well, it’s out of your hands now. Your photo’s in the magazine for millions of people to see. I bought a copy. Would you autograph mine for me?”

  “I’m going to choke you the next time I see you.”

  “Tsk, tsk, not very sisterly of you,” Samirah joked. “What’s going on with you and Rafe? Are you two officially back together?”

  “Well…”

  Samirah screamed so loud, Rebekah had to pull the phone away from her ear. “You are!”

  “We’re still working on it, okay? We’re starting over…dating. It’s been a long time, so we’re getting to know each other again.”

  “Aw. That’s so cute. Like Romeo and Juliet.”

  “Romeo and Juliet died.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  Ricardo came into the room and picked up his plate and juice. “Can I eat in my room?” he asked in a loud whisper.

  Rebekah nodded. “Don’t make a mess,” she mouthed to him before he nodded and walked away.

  “Name a romantic couple who lived happily ever after.”

  “Samirah, did you hear what I said? We’re still working it out.”

  “Are you working it out in the bedroom too?”

  “Samirah!”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll leave it alone, but I know that’s a yes.” Rebekah smiled faintly and shook her head. “I just remember how sad you were after the break up. It was really hard to watch.”

  “I know. I wasn’t myself for awhile.”

  In a quiet voice, Samirah asked, “So you’ve forgiven him?”

  “It was a long time ago, and he’s trying really hard. He still says nothing happened that night, and…I believe him. I really love him, Samirah, and I think we can work this out. We both want to.”

  She hadn’t yet spoken to Rafael about the middle of the night text and the phone call the day of the movie premiere a few days ago. She had delayed asking him about it long enough. She resolved to get answers when he came home.

  “Oh, Bekah, I’m so excited for you. Do what makes you happy.” She could hear the catch in her sister’s voice. “I hope I find my Prince Charming one day.”

  “You have to stay in one place long enough to do that.”

  “Forget it. I’ve got at least a few more years of travel left in me. After I leave Miami, I’m off to Morocco.”

  “See what I mean?”

  “Hey, what about that guy you were dating—Carl…Carl…?”

  “Carlton. What about him?”

  “What happened to him?”

  “He and I stopped seeing each other once I found out Rafe and I were still married. I spoke to him about a week ago and explained we’re working on our marriage. He wasn’t happy about it.”

  “I never met Carlton. What was he like?”

  The intercom buzzed. “Hold on, Samirah. Someone’s at the gate, and I’m expecting a package for Rafe.”

  “No, I’ll call you later when we have more time to chat. I need to make another phone call. Tell my brother-in-law he better not hurt you again, or he’ll have to deal with me.”

  “I will. Bye, hon.”

  Rebekah buzzed the deliveryman in the gate. She signed for the package and was on her way to drop it off in the bedroom when the doorbell rang.

  Did he forget something?

  She swung open the door, but it wasn’t the deliveryman. A woman stood on the other side. Right away, Rebekah noted the stylish sunglasses on the woman’s head, which kept her long dark hair out of her face, the expensive handbag, and flattering sundress.

  “Yes?” She must have slipped in behind the courier, which by itself was cause for alarm. She didn’t look like a crazed fan, but judging a book by its cover was always a bad idea.

  “Who are you?” the woman asked. Her eyes narrowed. “You’re in People magazine. Are you the wife?” A frown of irritation marred her forehead.

  “Who are you?” Rebekah demanded.

  “Is Rafe here?” She tried to peer around Rebekah.

  Rebekah didn’t like the familiar manner in which the other woman said her husband’s name. Then she had the audacity to try to brush past Rebekah, but she put up her hand to stop her from entering. The woman’s chest collided with Rebekah’s palm.

  “Excuse me, who are you?” she asked again in a firmer voice. Whoever this woman was, she obviously didn’t know her place.

  The other woman’s face became a flushed, angry scowl. “I’m Cynthia,” she said, holding up her left hand to show a diamond solitaire. “Didn’t Rafe tell you? I’m his fiancée.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Rebekah sat on the edge of the bed with her fingers curled into the mattress. Stunned didn’t adequately describe what she felt. Flabbergasted and dumbfounded better explained her state of mind. Cynthia had provided a lot of information about her relationship with Rafael before she left.

  She could hear him coming down the hall. Humming. As if everything was just fine. She wouldn’t cry. She would give him a chance to explain, because there had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation.

  A few steps into the room, he stopped short when he saw her glaring at him. The dimples disappeared from his smiling face.

  “What’s wrong, mi amor?”

  Rebekah hardened her heart against the words of affection. “Who is Cynthia?”

  When the color drained from his face, she got her answer. Her blood ran cold. “You bastard!” she screamed. She hopped to her feet and grabbed the nearest object—a pillow—and tossed it across the room at him.

  He deflected it with ease. “Wait a minute. I can explain.”

  “Explain? Explain this, you—you—” Rebekah pulled open the top drawer of the nightstand and started tossing objects at him—pens, a notepad, batteries. “’No other woman has ever come close,’” she said, mimicking his words from several weeks ago. “Do you remember that—liar!”

  “I never lied to you,” Rafael said, dodging an iPod and the connected ear buds. “Let’s talk.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” She tossed one of her shoes at him. “The time for talking is over, and I don’t want to hear any more lies. How long did you think you could continue to have sex with both of us at the same time?”

  “That never happened.”

  “That’s not what she said. Two women for Rafe. Just like old times, wasn’t it?”

  “Stop it, Rebekah.”

  “Stupid, naive Rebekah. You probably couldn’t believe your luck. You’d fooled me again. You’d convinced me I was the most important thing in your life, the only woman you wanted, when at the same time you had your fiancée visiting from New York.”

  “She had no right to come here and say what she did. I broke things off with her a long time ago.”

  “Really? Did you tell her it’s over, because when she came here, she had a different story to tell. Oh, wait, am I the other woman in this scenario?”

  “Enough! Everything you’re saying is incorrect.” He made a movement toward her, and she tossed the other shoe in her hand at him. It stopped him for second, bouncing off his chest and landing on the floor.

  She made a mad dash to scramble across the bed.

  “Oh no, you don’t.” Rafael grabbed onto her ankles and eased her backward across the mattress before she could make it to the other side. The hem of her dress rode up her thighs.

  Rebekah tried to kick at him, but he held her tight and flipped her over onto her back. “You’re going to listen to me whethe
r you want to or not.”

  To her chagrin, when she swung at him, he blocked the blow with his forearm. She grimaced, cradling her arm against her chest.

  “Maldito sea! When the hell did you get so violent?” he growled.

  “Get up!”

  “No.” He pinned her arms to the bed with one hand. Rebekah wiggled angrily, but he didn’t budge. “I can stay here all day,” he said calmly.

  Finally, she halted her movements. Her breath came in short, angry spurts. She knew she could wear herself out if she didn’t stop because she couldn’t match his strength. Refusing to look at him, she stared up at the ceiling.

  “Will you let me explain?”

  Rebekah lowered her lids. She wouldn’t cry. Wouldn’t. But the pain was so acute, tearing through her with the precision of a blade.

  “How could you?” she whispered brokenly. “You’re engaged—about to marry another woman—when I haven’t even…I’ve never…been with anyone but you.”

  His hold on her loosened, and she opened her eyes to see the look of shock on his face. “No one?”

  She pushed him away and sat up.

  She hadn’t meant to admit that, but in her emotional state, the words flew past her lips before she could stop them. “After we split, I was hurting, and I didn’t want to be with anyone until we got a divorce.” She shrugged. “I definitely didn’t want to get involved with anyone when I found out I was pregnant. When Ricky was born, I got busy with work, going to school full-time, and being a mother.” She pressed her lips together, thinking about how she’d relied on these excuses over the years so she wouldn’t have to deal with the pathetic truth—that she hadn’t wanted to sleep with anyone else. No other man had ever come close to making her feel the way he did. “By the time I started dating, I was back at my father’s church regularly and had pretty much decided I would go back to the way I was raised, and I would only date nice men.”

  They sat in silence for awhile, and then Rafael ran a weary hand over his face. “She was never my fiancée. We had a few dates, and that was it. There was something a little off about her, so I ended it right away.”