Joshua Wilkins: Arranged Marriage

Chapter 12: Joshua

We made our way further around and found Christian and Benjamin standing together, immersed in conversation. However, when they saw us approaching, they stopped talking and both tried to smile politely at

Lydia.

“Lydia,” I started, “let me introduce you to Christian Howard and Benjamin Kempball.”

“Nice to meet you,” she shook both of their hands and nodded politely back. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“As have we about you,” Christian grinned back at her, making her look at me in confusion.

I felt the heat creeping up my neck, and the embarrassment starting to take hold of me. “I think she meant business-wise,” Benjamin grinned next to him.

Lydia nodded in confirmation. I stared at Christian, who only shrugged his shoulders. After what seemed like a very long and painfully awkward time, Lydia finally broke the silence.

“Tell me, Mr. Howard, what are you going to do when you have bought all of New York?” Her comment made Christian smile wider. Benjamin looked amazed at Lydia.

Christian started explaining his business, how he had built it up, and Lydia listened intently. A waiter came by with some champagne glasses, and I took two, handing her one. I put my hand on the small of her back as my gaze traveled around the greenhouse.

Everyone who was anyone was there. Board members of Wilkins Co., important players from Techins and Conner Books, and of course, the elite. The Haydens were there too, along with the Kimms, the Jacksons, and many more. My grandmother, being the eternal hostess, floated from group to group, conversing with them all, making everyone feel welcome and special.

I spotted the Conners. Julie stood talking with some of the other ladies—the ones whose job had been to bear children, turn them into perfect little dolls to fit into our society, marry them off, and now that that had happened, they could finally start living their lives. Brian stood in a group of men, the same group that formed at every event or party, where important men discussed laws and stocks, and how to make their business easier.

“I don’t think your market is even halfway through,” Lydia’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Elaborate,” Christian looked curious as he gestured toward her.

“There is a big part of New York that is almost run down, not fancy buildings but the buildings for people who don’t have as much as we do.” She explained, her brows furrowed. “Those buildings would be obvious to obtain.”

“Why?” Benjamin chimed in.

“Because they might need some work, yes, but then you could raise the rent just a little, making their homes better and more luxurious. Replace the kitchens, update the bathrooms, perhaps some outer work too. Then you would have tenants who are happy to pay a little more, and slowly you could be the man to clean up New York, and that way truly make an inheritance for your kids to take over.” She used her hands as she explained, looking from Benjamin to Christian.

Benjamin looked excited about the idea, but Christian looked more puzzled. It was a great idea, and he had the money to do it. However, it hurt him that the idea wasn’t his own.

Then suddenly he started laughing. Christian Howard started laughing, which made Lydia look to me, and I gave her an I-don’t-know look back.

“Olympus should hire you,” he then stuttered between his laughter, “by God, how many failed business transactions you would have saved.” He put his hand on my shoulder before his laughter died altogether. “If you ever get tired of her, just send her my way.” With that, he winked at her.

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” I shrugged my shoulders. “Telling her what to do is like trying to move the Empire State Building by pushing it—a waste of time.”

I felt her body press into mine, and when I looked down at her, I saw her smiling up at me. That smile. The smile that pulled all of the air from my lungs. The smile that made my body both freeze and heat up at the same time.

“You’re finally starting to get it.” I was about to say something back when she noticed something behind me. “I’m sorry,” she smiled between us all, “I just saw someone I have to say hello to.”

She left my side, and I saw her go over to the big mountain of a man. Daniel Garrett. Dressed in an all-black suit, he looked like death himself, but when he embraced Lydia and kissed her cheek, he seemed almost human.

“Your fiancée is embracing Daniel Garrett,” Benjamin deadpanned.

“There’s nothing ordinary about her, is there?” Christian asked me.

But there wasn’t. Even just after a week, I knew that Lydia wasn’t ordinary at all. Everything she did and was, was extraordinary. She kept surprising me.

“It’s just business,” I mumbled, mostly to myself, but they could hear it, or at least it seemed like they did, based on the look they shared afterward.

**

I tried laughing at a joke Tobias Hayden made, but it was hard to make it believable. I had been pulled into one of the groups, one of those groups of men. Then I felt a hand on my arm and saw my grandmother looking annoyed with me.

She pulled me out of the group—or at least tried to—and after a few "excuse me"s, I followed her.

“See that?” She asked, pointing towards Lydia, who was in another group with Daniel and some of his business associates. “Your fiancée is talking with other men, Joshua. What have I taught you?”

But before I could open my mouth, she continued to scold me. “You need to dance with her. Everyone else is waiting for you to open up the floor.”

“But Gran—”

“Go! And put in effort.” She pushed me towards Lydia and her group.

After clearing my throat, I continued towards her. Dancing was not my best skill, and I had never particularly enjoyed the act of swaying to music. However, I could do it; I had attended some of my lessons back then, but it was a long time ago.

I crossed the dance floor to get to her faster. The quicker it was done, the quicker I could go back to talking and doing business—that was what I was good at.

The men noticed me, and Lydia must have noticed them noticing me because she turned around and looked at me. I held out my hand to her. “We should open the dance floor.”

“Of course,” she grinned at me. “Excuse me,” she added over her shoulder. Her hand found mine, and I led her to the middle of the dance floor. “Why do you look white as a ghost?”

“I hate dancing,” I answered honestly.

We stopped, and I turned towards her. I saw something new in her eyes, something that was not mockery and not pity either. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. “That’s only because you haven’t danced with me before.” Her tone was gentle and encouraging.

She put her hand on my shoulder and held up the other for me to take. I took it and put my other hand on her waist. “Just follow me,” she whispered.

The music heightened in volume, and as a beat formed, she started moving. Somehow she made it feel like I was leading, although I knew I wasn’t. We swirled around the dance floor, and not for a second did she take her eyes off mine, almost as if they could tell me what I was supposed to do and when.

And she was right. Dancing with her was different. You support me, and I support you back. It was embarrassing to admit, but she had helped me a lot more this week than anybody had in ten years. Perhaps this was what it felt like to have a partner. Someone you could count on—depend on—and it felt good.

I could feel everybody’s eyes on us as we moved in time with the music. She hummed along to the tune as we continued to twirl around, which only made me more comfortable.

Slowly the music ebbed out, bringing our dance to an end. Somehow we ended right in the middle. I leaned down towards her, never taking my eyes off hers.

“You know I have to kiss you now, right?” And that was true. I had to kiss her, both for the act, for the people around us, and for the cameras.

“Right,” she answered, almost breathlessly.

I leaned all the way down to her, placing my lips on hers. Her eyes closed as we met. Her lips were just as soft as I had thought they would be. Just as perfect as I thought.

Right there, I knew I didn’t want to pull back. I wanted to keep going, I wanted to grab her and deepen the kiss. f**k me. I reluctantly pulled back from her, and she opened her amazing green pools of emotion. The green, shiny windows into her soul, into her thoughts, into her being.

“That wasn’t that bad,” she whispered to me, before her eyes fell to my lips.

I didn’t mistake the double meaning. “No, it really wasn’t.” My voice was nothing but a whisper back.

Then the clapping began. The sound surrounded us and brought me out of my trance. I looked away from her and saw everybody smiling warmly at us—or maybe not all but most.

Music then began, and more people came onto the dance floor. “Let’s get you out of here,” she mocked me—there it was.

As we left the dance floor, Julie came up to us and smiled so brightly the sun couldn’t even match it. “You two look absolutely adorable.” She clapped her hands together and put them towards her chest, almost looking dreamily at us.

“I could not agree more,” the low and authoritative rumble of my grandfather cut right through everything. He stepped towards us, with my grandmother right next to him. “You look good on her arm, grandson.”

On her arm. Of course, my grandfather would know that; he would have seen how much she just helped me on the dance floor, how much she made sure I didn’t embarrass myself or my family.

“We look good on each other’s arms,” she smiled towards him, making me look back at her. “We suit each other, don’t you think so?”

How are you here by my side? How did she need this? How could she not just pick between the men in this world? Do an eenie meenie miney moe, and just find someone of her own choosing?

“Of course, dear,” I smiled back at her. The first time I didn’t use the nickname as an insult, but as an actual term of endearment.

My grandfather smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile. He knew something. What did he know?

I was about to ask him if he wanted to say something when someone cleared their throat behind us. When I turned around, I saw Mathèo standing there with an apologetic look on his face.

“Miss Conner,” he extended his hand to her, “do you want to show them how it’s done?” He winked at her.

Five pairs were on the dance floor, dancing to the slow classical music, but it looked boring. If there was something Mathèo was good at, it was getting a party started.

“Sure,” she smiled and accepted his hand.

Quickly, her eyes landed on mine, and just for a second—a split second—I thought I saw her asking for permission. Then she was gone.

Just as Mathèo’s foot hit the dance floor, the music stopped, and a wide grin formed on his face. They walked to the middle of the room and stood just as we had a few minutes ago. The musicians smiled amongst themselves before a more upbeat sound emanated from them.

Suddenly, they started moving on the dance floor in a completely different way than we did. It shone from Mathèo’s eyes that he was in control, that he decided what they did and when. Did it look that way when she danced with me? Probably not.

Lydia’s body moved against his. Her hips swayed and her feet moved in a way that made her body twirl around, making her move in ways I hadn’t thought she could.

He turned her around, swirled her across the dance floor. The five pairs were pushed off it because of the way Mathèo and Lydia took over the dance floor. They took up all the space, and you just couldn’t look away from it. It was hypnotizing to watch.

It looked like a Latin dance, maybe something like salsa, but still not completely that. He just kept making Lydia move around the dance floor, making her body move in a dominating and possessive way. She looked like a lioness, and she was on the hunt. The power emanating from their dance made the greenhouse almost foggy.

The smile on her face was different; it wasn’t fake, it wasn’t because of happiness either. It looked almost malicious. Like she would crush anyone coming too close to her. Like you would get burned if you touched her. And like she wanted you to burn.

“What a woman.” The voice came from behind me, a voice I didn’t really recognize but still knew from somewhere. But he was right. What a woman.

A new feeling started burning inside of me. It started at my feet, making me want to step out of my shoes because the leather couldn’t possibly hold the heat emanating from me. It tracked further up my legs and started at my fingers. The heat spread further and met at my shoulders before coming up my neck and to my face.

My fists clenched. My jaw set. My vision got blurred. The burning sensation made me see red.

Jealousy. Pure, unfiltered jealousy.