"You look beautiful, Gwen. Ethan will only have eyes for you tonight,
honey. How could any man in his right mind tear his eyes from this work of
art?" Rebecca smiled smugly, taking her daughter's hand and twirling her
around, admiring her masterpiece. Gwen's smooth brow furrowed, as she
scrutinized her reflection in the full-length mirror that graced the
entrance to the lavish mansion.
"If he's madly in love with Theresa, I don't see a problem," Gwen lamented, a trace of spite lingering in her voice. But despite her downcast tone of voice, Gwen was a vision of beauty. Her chin-length pale blonde hair glistened underneath the bright lights, and the rustling of her silky ivory-coloured dress silently shouted "Nordstrom's best".
"Oh, Gwennie, really! As soon as you mosey into that door, that man will be head over heels for you. Not even a sightless lad could resist you, looking as delectably scrumptious as you do. Now you go ahead and wipe that grim scowl off of your face. You look too delicious to be seen glowering over insignificant details like little Theresa over there. You'll see that your dear mother will take care of that piece of trailer trash, and dump her right back where she belongs. Into the sewer filled with other good-for- nothing pigs like her," Rebecca asserted, ice blue eyes blazing.
"Okay mother. I'll stop worrying. But it's so hard. Any person could see that Ethan is deeply in love with her, even though he's engaged to me," Gwen mourned, expressive dark eyes glittering with a trace of tears. She glanced at the slender band that adorned her smooth finger, crowned with a glistening diamond, only to swallow the lump in her throat that was growing larger by the second.
"You listen here, Gwen, and you listen good. Ethan might be deeply in love with Theresa, but she's not the one wearing his engagement ring, is she. When faced with the decision, he chose you to be his future wife. He realized that his relationship with Theresa was just a fling, nothing special at all. He chose you to be his partner, he chose you to make a lifelong commitment. When it came down to it, you're the one with the pretty little ring on your pretty little finger. Not Theresa. So don't you go sulking around the whole time. You have a wedding to look forward to," Rebecca soothed, voice dripping with honey. "Now you run along and have a good time with your fiancé," Rebecca insisted, shooing her away. "And don't let petty thoughts of Theresa worry your pretty head," Rebecca spat out Theresa's name as if she were a disease.
Gwen nodded submissively and started towards the ornate double doors.
**************************************************************************** *****
"You look stunning," Whitney proclaimed, smiling playfully as her best friend attempted to strike a pose, only to stumble on her tipsy high heels and grasp at a chair for support. "I guess I'll still look beautiful, even if I'm hobbling on crutches, huh?" Theresa teased, wincing as she adjusted the strap of her narrow heeled shoes.
Suddenly, as if a cloud had blocked the brilliant rays of sunshine on a clear day, her bright features darkened. "What's wrong, Theresa?" Whitney inquired, concerned. Theresa bit on her lower lip, and silently shook her head. "It's nothing really," she insisted. "I just thought I'd be over Ethan by now. But I keep replaying that moment in my head when he told me that it couldn't be. Right then, all of my dreams shattered like a crystal vase. In every dream I've had of the future, Ethan was always there beside me, holding my hand. And now, like a record screeching to a halt, everything's changed," Theresa sighed, arranged her mocha-coloured tresses.
"Hey, look here. Love never came easy. It'll take you a while to move on Theresa, no one told you it won't. It might take days, months, maybe even years. But there's one thing that you can be sure of, Theresa. Through it all, I'll be there for you, right by your side, holding your hand. In fact, I guarantee it," Whitney smiled through her tears, reaching out to embrace her closest friend in the world. It hurt to see her like this. It was always Theresa who was the one who said that 'Love will find a way' and 'Fate always comes out for the better,' and yet here she was, crying on the shoulder of the friend that she had always comforted.
Whitney cracked a tiny smile. "Lay off with the tears, will you? Designer gown here. And I here that nose fluids are a pain to wash off of 100% silk dress, even if you send it to the dry cleaners," she teased, grin turning into a full fledged smile at the murderous look portrayed on her best friends face.
"I do NOT drip, Whitney. Let's just remember that, shall we. Now what are we doing here, moping and getting all teary. There's a party there waiting for us, and they're waiting for their guests of honour," Theresa threw a haughty glare over her shoulder, only to wince as she staggered once again over her heeled shoes. Whitney shook her head and helped her friend up. "Yeah, all this sniffling reminds me of a bad rerun of 'The Young and the Restless'."
**************************************************************************** *****
Smoothing out the glittering material of her revealing wine-coloured velvet dress, Theresa spun around in front of the mirror, admiring as the fabric fanned out, swirling around her toned calves and slender ankles. "Ethan won't be able to tear his eyes away from me," she assured herself, readjusting the position of the side mirror on her car.
"Admiring yourself, as I can see," Whitney teased, running her smooth fingers through her curly mane. "And you're right. Ethan will fall in love with you right then and there, no doubt about it at all. You look absolutely dazzling," Whitney claimed, dragging her best friend by the arm and lugging her up the drive. "If you don't turn away from your reflection, something bad will happen to you. Like you'll be too busy admiring yourself that Ethan doesn't see you at all."
Theresa attempted to suppress a small smile, but failed miserably. Twirling a silken mocha-tinted ringlet around her index finger, she flashed a dazzling, white-toothed grin. "Just so you know," she drawled, "I happen to be going to this party for the sole reason of celebrating a long-lost Crane's return. I have no ulterior motives whatsoever," she proclaimed, with a toss of her lustre-glossed curls.
Theresa stopped dead in her tracks, when her expressive chocolate-coloured eyes caught a glimpse of a toned, sweat-glistening body disappearing underneath the hood of sleek car. "So much for ulterior motives," Theresa muttered under her breath as she felt her heart beat like a drum.
The well-built stranger wiped his filthy hands on the front of his low- slung jeans, and snatched a grimy wrench from the patterned drive, fiddling with the expensive car's complicated wires and pipes. "What I don't understand is why dear Mother and Father just won't hire a mechanic. Heaven forbid Julian Crane would ever climb underneath his Benz, or he might dirty his custom-tailored suit," he mocked, spitting out a curse word with the wrench slammed down on his thumb.
Gnawing on his bottom lip until he could taste the salty bitterness of his blood, Fox strained to keep his eyes wide open, to blink away the sting that had caused his eyes to water. Catching a glimpse of tiny slippered feet planted only inches in front of his face; he slid out from under the luxurious vehicle. "Are you alright?" Theresa inquired, concern evident on her heart-shaped face. Her dark eyes, which were outlined in thick black eyeliner, were peering out from lacy black lashes.
Fox felt his head get dizzy at the sight of the beautiful creature in front of him. Her skin was olive, perhaps from an exotic background, and radiated with a soft glow. Her small body was encased in a striking dark red dress, which left little to the imagination, and her thick waves of coffee coloured hair was tousled over her left eye, almost daring anyone to look at her in a less than honourable way. "I heard cursing," she continued, tucking a strand of wayward hair behind her ear, "And I wanted to make sure no one was hurt." Stop babbling, she ordered herself, but nonetheless, she felt her knees go weak and turn to jelly at the seductive glance that the blonde stranger was giving her, eyeing her appreciably up and down her curved figure. His dishevelled, spiked blonde hair gave him the look of a rebel, so different from the well-kept dark hair that Ethan sported. His face was angular and attractive, his dark eyes mysterious and deep, so unlike the soft blue eyes that graced Ethan's oval face.
He was tall and handsome; muscles rippling against a well muscled back, his washboard abs glistening with perspiration. His faded jeans clung to his hips, revealing a swirl of light brown curls that disappeared under the waistband of his pants. Theresa resisted the urge to lick her parched lips, and instead gazed up into his eyes. "You're new here, aren't you? I would have remembered you if you were here before," she whispered, blushing hotly under his intense gaze.
"Keen eyes, and beautiful. Why didn't I come to small-town Harmony before?" He licked the bead of sweat on his upper lip, raising his eyebrow suggestively. He offered a smooth hand, introducing himself, "Name's Nicholas Foxworth Crane, but you can call me Fox. I can't help but think that my stay here might be a little more exciting than I expected."
"If he's madly in love with Theresa, I don't see a problem," Gwen lamented, a trace of spite lingering in her voice. But despite her downcast tone of voice, Gwen was a vision of beauty. Her chin-length pale blonde hair glistened underneath the bright lights, and the rustling of her silky ivory-coloured dress silently shouted "Nordstrom's best".
"Oh, Gwennie, really! As soon as you mosey into that door, that man will be head over heels for you. Not even a sightless lad could resist you, looking as delectably scrumptious as you do. Now you go ahead and wipe that grim scowl off of your face. You look too delicious to be seen glowering over insignificant details like little Theresa over there. You'll see that your dear mother will take care of that piece of trailer trash, and dump her right back where she belongs. Into the sewer filled with other good-for- nothing pigs like her," Rebecca asserted, ice blue eyes blazing.
"Okay mother. I'll stop worrying. But it's so hard. Any person could see that Ethan is deeply in love with her, even though he's engaged to me," Gwen mourned, expressive dark eyes glittering with a trace of tears. She glanced at the slender band that adorned her smooth finger, crowned with a glistening diamond, only to swallow the lump in her throat that was growing larger by the second.
"You listen here, Gwen, and you listen good. Ethan might be deeply in love with Theresa, but she's not the one wearing his engagement ring, is she. When faced with the decision, he chose you to be his future wife. He realized that his relationship with Theresa was just a fling, nothing special at all. He chose you to be his partner, he chose you to make a lifelong commitment. When it came down to it, you're the one with the pretty little ring on your pretty little finger. Not Theresa. So don't you go sulking around the whole time. You have a wedding to look forward to," Rebecca soothed, voice dripping with honey. "Now you run along and have a good time with your fiancé," Rebecca insisted, shooing her away. "And don't let petty thoughts of Theresa worry your pretty head," Rebecca spat out Theresa's name as if she were a disease.
Gwen nodded submissively and started towards the ornate double doors.
**************************************************************************** *****
"You look stunning," Whitney proclaimed, smiling playfully as her best friend attempted to strike a pose, only to stumble on her tipsy high heels and grasp at a chair for support. "I guess I'll still look beautiful, even if I'm hobbling on crutches, huh?" Theresa teased, wincing as she adjusted the strap of her narrow heeled shoes.
Suddenly, as if a cloud had blocked the brilliant rays of sunshine on a clear day, her bright features darkened. "What's wrong, Theresa?" Whitney inquired, concerned. Theresa bit on her lower lip, and silently shook her head. "It's nothing really," she insisted. "I just thought I'd be over Ethan by now. But I keep replaying that moment in my head when he told me that it couldn't be. Right then, all of my dreams shattered like a crystal vase. In every dream I've had of the future, Ethan was always there beside me, holding my hand. And now, like a record screeching to a halt, everything's changed," Theresa sighed, arranged her mocha-coloured tresses.
"Hey, look here. Love never came easy. It'll take you a while to move on Theresa, no one told you it won't. It might take days, months, maybe even years. But there's one thing that you can be sure of, Theresa. Through it all, I'll be there for you, right by your side, holding your hand. In fact, I guarantee it," Whitney smiled through her tears, reaching out to embrace her closest friend in the world. It hurt to see her like this. It was always Theresa who was the one who said that 'Love will find a way' and 'Fate always comes out for the better,' and yet here she was, crying on the shoulder of the friend that she had always comforted.
Whitney cracked a tiny smile. "Lay off with the tears, will you? Designer gown here. And I here that nose fluids are a pain to wash off of 100% silk dress, even if you send it to the dry cleaners," she teased, grin turning into a full fledged smile at the murderous look portrayed on her best friends face.
"I do NOT drip, Whitney. Let's just remember that, shall we. Now what are we doing here, moping and getting all teary. There's a party there waiting for us, and they're waiting for their guests of honour," Theresa threw a haughty glare over her shoulder, only to wince as she staggered once again over her heeled shoes. Whitney shook her head and helped her friend up. "Yeah, all this sniffling reminds me of a bad rerun of 'The Young and the Restless'."
**************************************************************************** *****
Smoothing out the glittering material of her revealing wine-coloured velvet dress, Theresa spun around in front of the mirror, admiring as the fabric fanned out, swirling around her toned calves and slender ankles. "Ethan won't be able to tear his eyes away from me," she assured herself, readjusting the position of the side mirror on her car.
"Admiring yourself, as I can see," Whitney teased, running her smooth fingers through her curly mane. "And you're right. Ethan will fall in love with you right then and there, no doubt about it at all. You look absolutely dazzling," Whitney claimed, dragging her best friend by the arm and lugging her up the drive. "If you don't turn away from your reflection, something bad will happen to you. Like you'll be too busy admiring yourself that Ethan doesn't see you at all."
Theresa attempted to suppress a small smile, but failed miserably. Twirling a silken mocha-tinted ringlet around her index finger, she flashed a dazzling, white-toothed grin. "Just so you know," she drawled, "I happen to be going to this party for the sole reason of celebrating a long-lost Crane's return. I have no ulterior motives whatsoever," she proclaimed, with a toss of her lustre-glossed curls.
Theresa stopped dead in her tracks, when her expressive chocolate-coloured eyes caught a glimpse of a toned, sweat-glistening body disappearing underneath the hood of sleek car. "So much for ulterior motives," Theresa muttered under her breath as she felt her heart beat like a drum.
The well-built stranger wiped his filthy hands on the front of his low- slung jeans, and snatched a grimy wrench from the patterned drive, fiddling with the expensive car's complicated wires and pipes. "What I don't understand is why dear Mother and Father just won't hire a mechanic. Heaven forbid Julian Crane would ever climb underneath his Benz, or he might dirty his custom-tailored suit," he mocked, spitting out a curse word with the wrench slammed down on his thumb.
Gnawing on his bottom lip until he could taste the salty bitterness of his blood, Fox strained to keep his eyes wide open, to blink away the sting that had caused his eyes to water. Catching a glimpse of tiny slippered feet planted only inches in front of his face; he slid out from under the luxurious vehicle. "Are you alright?" Theresa inquired, concern evident on her heart-shaped face. Her dark eyes, which were outlined in thick black eyeliner, were peering out from lacy black lashes.
Fox felt his head get dizzy at the sight of the beautiful creature in front of him. Her skin was olive, perhaps from an exotic background, and radiated with a soft glow. Her small body was encased in a striking dark red dress, which left little to the imagination, and her thick waves of coffee coloured hair was tousled over her left eye, almost daring anyone to look at her in a less than honourable way. "I heard cursing," she continued, tucking a strand of wayward hair behind her ear, "And I wanted to make sure no one was hurt." Stop babbling, she ordered herself, but nonetheless, she felt her knees go weak and turn to jelly at the seductive glance that the blonde stranger was giving her, eyeing her appreciably up and down her curved figure. His dishevelled, spiked blonde hair gave him the look of a rebel, so different from the well-kept dark hair that Ethan sported. His face was angular and attractive, his dark eyes mysterious and deep, so unlike the soft blue eyes that graced Ethan's oval face.
He was tall and handsome; muscles rippling against a well muscled back, his washboard abs glistening with perspiration. His faded jeans clung to his hips, revealing a swirl of light brown curls that disappeared under the waistband of his pants. Theresa resisted the urge to lick her parched lips, and instead gazed up into his eyes. "You're new here, aren't you? I would have remembered you if you were here before," she whispered, blushing hotly under his intense gaze.
"Keen eyes, and beautiful. Why didn't I come to small-town Harmony before?" He licked the bead of sweat on his upper lip, raising his eyebrow suggestively. He offered a smooth hand, introducing himself, "Name's Nicholas Foxworth Crane, but you can call me Fox. I can't help but think that my stay here might be a little more exciting than I expected."