Janice Sims - Dance of Temptation

“I instinctively knew we belonged together,” said Belana, knowing she sounded unreasonable. “Why didn’t he?”

“Come on now, sis, you know how you’ve held men at arm’s length for years because you were the one afraid of settling down. And no wonder. You were abandoned by your mother when you were barely two and she hasn’t made any effort to be in your life ever since. Yes, you would wonder if you’d inherited her lack of commitment. Now, though, you know you’re not like our mother. You have the capacity for long-term commitment. You just need to find the right guy. And you cry at the mention of Nicolas Reed because you think you might have missed your chance due to a case of miscommunication. Sounds to me as if he was hoping you wanted to be exclusive, but you weren’t honest with him.” Erik paused, waiting for Belana’s response to his accusation. All he got from his sister was more silent tears.

She rose. “Excuse me.”

Erik rose too, his hand on her elbow. “Are you all right? Should we go?”

Belana shook her head and picked up her bag. “I just need to wash my face. If the waiter comes before I get back, order for me. You know what I want.”

Erik sat down, feeling helpless. Why hadn’t he kept his big mouth shut this time? He and Belana had always been close. Their parents divorced when Belana was two and he was seven. He remembered the fights between his parents as vividly as if they had occurred yesterday. Their mother, Mari Elizabeth Whitaker, known as Mari Tautou today, accused their father, John, of hindering her career, of trying to keep her barefoot and pregnant. Mari was a dancer. Belana had inherited that much from Mari. That’s where the comparisons ended. Mari had never wanted to be a mother. The housekeeper, Mrs. Kent, got Erik up for school every morning, made his breakfast, saw him off to school. When he returned, she was there to give him an afternoon snack, make sure he did his homework, give him dinner and put him to bed at night. Belana was too young to remember the neglect by their mother, but he hadn’t been. Mari couldn’t even fake affection. He had felt loved by their father, but he had felt like an inconvenience to his mother. Those were not warm memories. He thanked God he had Mrs. Kent and his grandmother, Drusilla, as mother figures. Drusilla was kind enough not to deride his mother in his presence, even though he was quite sure Drusilla didn’t like her. Now that he was an adult, Drusilla no longer held her tongue on the subject of Mari. She’d told him he had better not marry a woman simply because she was beautiful. His choice had better have something wonderful going for her other than her looks. “Your father was blinded by your mother’s looks,” Drusilla said of Mari. “If he had bothered to look deeper he wouldn’t have had anything to do with her.” Then she had smiled and gently rubbed his cheek. “He did get two good things out of his marriage, you and Belana.”

Erik sighed deeply. The reason he had made Belana face her feelings for Nicolas Reed was because if she had dropped him because she feared commitment, and the misunderstanding that broke them up was not as monumental as Belana had described it, then she was allowing her mother to win. Allowing Mari to have an adverse affect on her life, when Mari never wanted to be a part of her life made no sense to Erik. By no means should Mari have that much influence. He would do everything in his power to prevent it.

The waiter arrived. He cleared his throat because Erik was still deep in his own thoughts. “Good evening, sir. Would you like to hear the specials?”

“No,” said Erik. “Just bring me two cheeseburgers, fries and vanilla milk shakes.”

Belana liked comfort food after a show closed. Something in her was in mourning whenever a show ran its course. Carbohydrates gave her an emotional boost. Plus, she only splurged a few times a year; every other day of the year she stuck to a healthy diet.

“Right away, sir,” said the waiter, a thin, middle-aged black man with a thin, graying mustache and absolutely no hair on his head. He wore the customary uniform consisting of a white shirt, black slacks and black comfortable shoes.

When Belana returned, looking refreshed, she sat down to a meal that had just been brought to their table. She smiled at her brother. “You’re an angel.”

Erik smiled knowingly. “Running an extra five miles is worth it.” He, too, liked to stay in shape.

They both said silent prayers before beginning to eat. Erik watched Belana attack her burger and smiled. “So what did you decide in the bathroom? To continue our conversation or ignore it altogether?”

Belana swallowed. She wiped some burger juices away from the corner of her mouth with the cloth napkin. “I’m not going to ignore it. But what can I do? It’s been eight months, he’s probably moved on. He was dating someone else when I ran into them, remember?”

“That doesn’t mean he’s dating her now,” Erik said around a mouthful of burger. Belana frowned at his poor table manners. When they were kids he used to gross her out by showing her the food in his mouth while he was eating. At least he’d stopped doing that.

Seeing her expression, Erik swallowed and took a sip of his milk shake while he awaited her response. When she still didn’t say anything, he said, “Chicken?”

“I would be humiliated if I phoned him to try to get back together with him and he’s involved with someone else,” she admitted. She took a big bite of burger and chewed slowly, very slowly, letting her brother know that she would not be replying to any antagonistic questions any time soon.

Erik knew her, though, and decided to eat in silence. When her plate was clean, she would have no excuse not to answer his questions.

Halfway through their meal, Julie sauntered over to their table. “Is everything to your satisfaction?” she asked, smiling at Erik.

Erik was pleased to be interrupted. His sister wasn’t making an effort to be a pleasant dinner companion. “Hi, Julie,” he said, giving her the benefit of his sexiest smile. “Yes, thank you, everything’s great.”

Julie sighed and tossed her long, wavy red tresses over her shoulder. “Okay,” she said, drawing out the word as if she were reluctant to have to go. “Let me know if you need anything, and I mean anything.”

Belana noticed the stress she’d put on the word “anything” and had nearly choked on a fry. Her brother, charming devil, smiled suggestively at Julie, and said, “I surely will.”

Belana kicked him underneath the table.

When Julie had gone, Erik frowned at his sister. “That hurt.”

“I meant it to hurt,” Belana told him. Finished eating, she pushed her plate aside and pulled her milk shake forward to concentrate on it. “If you’re serious about Ana, you can’t go around flirting with waitresses. You see? That’s what I mean about men. I thought you loved Ana, and yet you can’t resist toying with the affections of an innocent bystander.”

Erik laughed shortly. “Who said I was in love with Ana? I am in fantasy-love with Ana. There’s a difference. And there’s no harm in a little flirting.”

“Until you take it to the next step, and believe me, Julie wants to take it to the next step. If you’re serious about Ana, I’ll help you. But I’m not going to help you get a date with Ana if you insist on behaving like a hound. She’s been hurt enough by men who didn’t know how to be faithful to one woman.”

“She has?” Erik asked.

“Don’t you know it’s the bane of the beautiful woman’s existence? Men want to be with beautiful women because they look good on their arms and make them the envy of other men. But beautiful women have a very hard time finding that one special guy who’ll love them for what’s inside, not for how they look.”