Adrianne Byrd - Wedding Chocolate

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Randall Jarrett was a happy man. Not only was his career on track, he had closed the deal on obtaining the perfect political wife. He smiled while he lathered up in the shower. Senator Kane was a force of nature on Capitol Hill and Randall wanted to be just like him. Who knows? Maybe he would be the next Obama.

Already the Kanes and his parents were spreading the news to their family and friends. His phone had been ringing off the hook from stunned ex-girlfriends and old fraternity brothers. Charles and Taariq thought he needed to get his head examined for turning in his single’s card so soon. Hylan and Stanley just couldn’t stop laughing.

The only call that was missing was from his ex-best friend and frat brother Derrick. Randall and Derrick hadn’t seen or talked to each other in years—ever since Randall caught Derrick in bed with Christina Faye, his girlfriend and first prospective wife. Derrick had fed him some cockamamy story about how nothing had happened, but Derrick’s reputation made the declaration impossible to believe.

Boys will be boys, especially when the object in college was to score with as many women as possible, but Christina had been different. Randall had issued a “hands off” alert, but Derrick just had to stab him in the back.

But everything had worked out. He had Isabella now—and she would be the perfect politician’s wife.

His mood only brightened as he whistled and enjoyed the bathroom’s acoustics. After he scoured every inch of his six-foot-three frame, he stepped out of the shower and began dancing in front of the steam-covered mirror.

“I see you’re in a good mood.”

Randall jumped but then smiled at his long-legged visitor. “I have every right to be in a good mood, sweetheart. You’re looking at the future president of the United States.”

“Oh. Are we having that dream again?”

“A dream that’s going to be reality. Mark my words. Give me 12-15 years, tops.” He removed the towel from his waist and then snapped it against her ample bottom.

Randall’s curvy guest just glared. “I can’t believe you did it.”

“C’mon.” Randall squeezed toothpaste onto his toothbrush and began scrubbing his extremely straight pearly-white teeth.

“If you’re going to marry her, then I can’t see you anymore,” she said.

Randall stopped scrubbing and turned his incredulous gaze toward her. “Why?” he asked, and then spat into the sink.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“But we talked about this,” he said. “I have to marry Isabella. She is the perfect choice for my career. She has the breeding, a good reputation and hell, I think the girl is still a virgin. It doesn’t get any better than that.”

“Well, thanks a lot!” His girlfriend turned on her heel, and stomped away.

“Aw, hell.” Randall turned on the water and quickly rinsed out his mouth before racing after her. When he had caught up with her, she had damn near reached the front door.

“Come on, baby.” He twirled her around to face him. “What’s gotten into you? We’ve been over all of this before.”

“You just don’t get it. Do you stop and think for one second about how all this makes me feel? What about me? I’m the one that should be your wife. I’m the one you’ve been screwing the last three years. I’m the one that puts up with your bull day after day.”

“Bull?”

“Yeah, bull.” She snatched her arm from his firm grip and then stabbed him in the chest with an acrylic nail. “Everything is about your career. The right school. The right job. The right wife. What am I, chopped liver?”

“No, baby.” Randall lifted the hand planted in the center of his chest and brought it up to his lips to kiss her fingers. “You’re my heart. You know, I can’t live without you. You’ll always be in my life.”

“What—as your mistress?”

“As my true love.” He pulled her stiff body into his arms. “You know how the game is played. I’m striving to be one of the most powerful men in Washington, and I can’t do that without you in my corner.”

“Then put a ring on my finger.”

“I can’t, baby. Not with your father’s criminal record, and that bit of shoplifting you did back in high school.”

“I was a teenager,” she protested.

“What about that concealed weapons charge when you were in college?”

“It wasn’t my gun. My ex-boyfriend—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’d be crucified in the media and my career would be over before it ever got started.”

“Jesus, Randall. What did you do, run a background check on me?” She tried to wiggle out of his arms, but he refused to let her go.

“Of course I did.” He laughed. “I’m not taking any chances, and I don’t like surprises.”

“Let me go.” She shoved at his chest while angry tears spilled over her thick lashes and raced down her cheeks. “Damn you. Let me go!”

Determined for her to see reason, Randall tightened his grip. “Baby, I’m doing this for the both of us,” he cooed and rained a few kisses against her turned cheek. “Trust me. I’m going to always take care of you. I promise.”

To his surprise, she began to sob.

“But I don’t want you to marry her,” she whined.

“I know, baby.” Randall kissed her again. Slowly the fight drained from her body and he held her as she slumped to the floor. He gently pushed her thick mane of curls and tilted her chin toward him, so that their eyes could meet. “I want you to remember that even though I’m marrying Isabella, it’s you that I love. Understand?”

A small whimper passed through her lips and Randall smiled and then proceeded to make love to her on the foyer’s hardwood floor.

Chapter 6

After a month, Isabella slowly warmed to the idea of marrying Randall. At the very least, she was enjoying the attention her diamond ring brought. Family members, friends and even strangers would stop her and gawk at the sparkling jewel. Most of the women would cast coveted glances over at Isabella. They took in her plain attire, her uninspired hairdo and her clean but makeup-less face. She knew the question dancing in their minds: How did a plain Jane like her land a prize like Randall?

Isabella basked in their jealousy—mainly because beautiful women had never been jealous of her before. The whole experience was rather...nice.

This night, however, Randall and her parents were hosting one incredible engagement party. All of her father’s big political movers and shakers on Capitol Hill put in an appearance and her fiancé looked as though he’d won the lottery.

She, however, endured an endless line of she-wolves. Randall’s legion of female admirers smiled in her face and congratulated her; but the moment they walked away, their constant buzzing behind their pretty manicures launched Isabella’s insecurities to an all-time high.

“She better keep a tight rein on Randy if she knows what’s good for her,” Felicia Ledford buzzed to her girlfriend as she sashayed past Isabella.

“Oh, just ignore them,” Keri said, taking her by the arm and leading her to the bar where her other sorors, Rayne and Sylvia Graham, were already nursing their drinks. “They’re just jealous.”

“I guessed that much,” Isabella mumbled.

Keri rolled her eyes and shook her head. “If you’re going to be a politician’s wife, you’re going to have to develop tougher skin.”

“You sound like my mother.”

“Well, your mother is right—for once.” Keri glanced around and drained the rest of her drink. “In this town when they sense weakness, they move in for the kill.”

Realizing the truth of her best friend’s words, Isabella stiffened her spine.

“That’s my girl,” Keri praised. “Now let’s see if we can get ourselves another drink. Bartender,” she called.