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It was not until Eliza was invited to another dinner at Martin and Laure’s house that she thought about Margaux—because she was still there. Eliza thought that she had returned to Paris, so she was really startled to see Margaux at the house.

“Hello,” Margaux said, embracing her and kissing her on both of her cheeks.

Eliza returned her kisses, and smiled at her. Margaux stepped in closer so she could hug Rafe, and Eliza held his hand tighter while they kissed.

At the table, they ended up sitting next to Margaux—well Rafe sat next to her. The theme for this dinner was not as sensual as the last one, but heavy on the elegance with waitstaff with slicked back hair and waistcoats. Dinner was beef again with a decadent wine gravy, that Eliza wished to dab the excess on her plate up with her fingers. She turned to looked over at Rafe, when she heard a loud crash.

“I am so sorry,” Rafe said to Margaux, who slowly rose from her seat to reveal the savory gravy all over her bare legs. She wiped her legs with napkins that were handed to her.

“I am so sorry,” Rafe repeated, covering his mouth and staring at her as she wiped up.

“It is not a big deal cheri,” she smiled, dabbing him with a gravy-soiled napkin. “Not a big deal at all, it is so savory…I could lick it off…” She dabbed some off of her leg, and licked it in Rafe’s face.

Eliza coughed, and stood up to attend Margaux—and to get between her and Rafe.

“Do you need any help?” Eliza questioned her softly.

Margaux licked more gravy off of her shapely legs, and licked it. Rafe stared at her, and Eliza was not sure he was breathing.

“Non,” Margaux said to her. “I will be right back…”

*****

Hours later, most of the dinner guests had left, but Eliza and Rafe were still there.

“I am so sorry about the gravy,” Rafe said to Margaux again, and Eliza could smell the wine on his breath.

“Oh, I have definitely had worse on me!” Margaux grinned sheepishly.

“You really have!” Laure said, looking at her sister with a knowing look.

“What, you sisters are keeping secrets? You have to share everything with your guests!” Rafe demanded, and Eliza downed her wine and reached for the bottle before someone could pour it for her.

“Well in Paris, and now here in New York,” Margaux looked at Laure, before she continued. “I work as a fetish model.”

“Like Bettie Page?” Rafe asked.

“Yes, exactly,” Margaux nodded, smiled and added shyly. “And since people are always saying I resemble Myrna Loy…”

“You do,” Eliza said, taking another sip of wine and not wanting to be forgotten. Not wanting anyone to forget that she was sitting next to her fiancé.

“Yes, so I get a lot of vintage and retro jobs…” Margaux continued. “But I did do some tentacle porny stuff. I was in vintage underwear, and this realistic looking tentacle thing was placed on me. It was creepy! But at least it was a photo still, and none of it went inside me, you know?”

“She is like Bettie Page to us?” Laure announced. “In our family, she is like our French Bettie Page. She does a lot of fetish stuff that looks like stuff Bettie Page would do. And some of the older pulp stuff too. She’s beautiful so…” Laure ran her hands through her sister’s hair. “But we tease her about it, I ask Martin how it feels have married the not-so sexy sister!”

“And I do not answer!” Martin burst out laughing.

“Smart man!” Rafe laughed, and the men looked at each other conspiratorially.

Eliza laughed, but she did not find anything funny really.

“We should have taken pictures of you with gravy on you!” Laure declared. “You even managed to make a gravy spill sexy—licking it off! It must be someone’s fetish after all!”

“I really am sorry,” Eliza heard Rafe whisper to Margaux again.

“I told you cheri, it was nothing. It was not tentacles after all…It was nothing…”

“Okay,” Rafe said, looking at her nodding.

But Eliza wondered if it was really nothing, as she put her wine glass down.

More tentacle porn here:

Bettie Page via wikimedia commons

Eliza felt as vulnerable as she had felt when she was freshly sleeping with Rafe. She was more vulnerable than when she had been a virgin, because they shared things that she had never shared with anyone else. And when they were new lovers, Sandrine had had an episode like this. When he told her that he was going to be exclusive with her, Sandrine had thrown a fit like this.

Because she did not want to let go.

Eliza was unmoved by the deja vu of the situation. She knew that Rafe would not have called her there to have a scene with Sandrine.

A small smile filled her face. In her heart of hearts, Eliza believed that she and Rafe were solid this time.

At least she really wanted to believe they were and even though her stomach churned, she wanted to believe it.

She went over to him.

“Sandrine, I promise I know it hurts, but you have to let him go. You have to let him go…he is mine,” Eliza remembered saying to Sandrine so many years ago, when she was the one that was chosen.

Sandrine turned to stare at her at that time, and they mirrored each other’s youth and being in love with Rafe .

Now, Sandrine turned as if she felt her standing close to her. She stared at Eliza as if she was seeing her for the first time. They had not been near each other since the affair started, since she had broken the engagement…since they had reunited…

Sandrine stared through her, and Eliza did not blink.

Rafe had been hers forever, their  marriage was a formality. He was hers. Sandrine had to understand that. This time Eliza was okay if they were not friends, because Sandrine needed to know he was hers.

Sandrine dug her nails into Rafe’s bare skin before she walked away. Eliza watched her, and noticed a pressed rose on the stairs leading to the restaurant.

Rafe stared at Eliza, shoved his hands in his pockets.

Eliza grabbed his upper arms, pressed her cheek to his chest and clung to him the way that Sandrine had. The desperation she felt was like that of a young virgin about to be taken for the first time. She needed him close, she did not want to know what had just happened.

She looked up at him, and he stared down at her. He pulled her close with one arm, and Eliza pressed her face to the warmth of his chest.

Because there did not need to be words. She did not want to talk about it anymore, she wanted to trust him. They were not going to be able to exist without trust and it was hard as hell for her, but she was going to trust him.

He kissed her throbbing temple, and she looked down fixing her gaze on the pressed rose.

There did not need to be words in his arms.

More Wicked Wednesday here:

pressed rose photo by f dot leonora

He and Eliza were in a happy place, Rafe could still smell her on his skin. He had just held her face, and kissed her thoroughly before he left her. This time, he did not make a mistake, and let her know that he was going to see Severine.

“That was the reason why I left before,” Eliza had said, holding onto his collar as she kissed his neck and throat. “Not because you were with Sandrine, because we opened us…but because you did not tell me…”

Rafe closed his eyes, and kissed Eliza’s forehead in his memory again. Severine was in New York, and if nothing else she was still a friend, and he wanted to see her. He was going to tell her that things were going well with Eliza.

He had not been with another woman recently, except for Fiona. It was the three of them a lot. Fiona told him that she was very happy that he and Eliza had made amends.

“You seem stronger than ever, more in love than ever,” Fiona said to him, when Eliza was out of earshot. “Don’t forget what shit you looked like without her.”

Tugging on his coat, Rafe noted he was blocks away from the cafe where he was meeting Severine.

When he saw her.

Sandrine looked at him like he had stabbed her in the heart. Her eyes were cold, nothing like the warm brown he had known of them. The warm brown that burned like a dark flame when they made love. The abyss that he looked at now froze him in place.

She walked toward him, and then away.

“Sandrine…”

He reached for her, but her arm flailed out at him. Her manicured nails snagged on his jacket, and broke his skin where it was bare. Rafe did not even register the bite of her nails into his flesh. It was the look on her face.

“I know everything that is going on Rafe. I know that you and Eliza are very happy, and that everything else was just a big joke for you!”

“Sandrine…”

He grabbed her forearm, as she went to hit him again. In her fury, she broke free from his light hold and she set on him like a wildcat. She clawed at him wherever she could, Rafe was so startled that he remained still until she retreated. Her eyes were red, she looked like a monster. But the anguish on her face, the way that her eyes had softened with her pain…she pounded her fists on his chest exhaustedly, until he held her to him.

He pressed his chin on top of her head, and held her close to him. Her body heaved with tears, that he had not seen or felt from her since she was younger and they were together.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I love you, Sandrine.”

She heaved all the more, and all he could do was hold her. He was scared and guilty, as he rocked her softly. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, he saw Severine’s face pressed to the window of the cafe. He could not read her face, but he could read Eliza’s.

Rafe had told Eliza where he was meeting Severine, and now she looked at him with Sandrine in his arms.

Even with Sandrine’s bloodied fingers, the look in Eliza’s eyes made Sandrine’s earlier look warm.

Severine walked out of the cafe, and stood next to Eliza.

Rafe was still, except for Sandrine heaving like a heartbeat.

More Wicked Wednesday here:

bloodied fingers via wikipedia

It was the two of them in the bathroom. Eliza sat on the toilet with her panties up, and Rafe sat on the floor at her knees. His head was on her thigh, and she clutched his hair, and closed her eyes looking at the unopened pregnancy test.
She was nervous about telling him that she could be pregnant. They had always talked lightly and happily about having kids someday, but not that day. She was nervous would he be ready— she was not ready! Would he wonder if the baby was his since they had opened their relationship? It was open, but the only man that she had actually had sex with was him after she thought they were not going to be together anymore.
But it was Rafe at her feet, caressing her and letting her know he was there for her. Rafe was there when as she went to go open the pregnancy kit, and felt the unmistakable rush of her period start between her legs.
She was not pregnant, and right now she was very relieved because she was not ready to be a mother. Eliza thought of all of the things her mother had done for her, and knew she was not ready for that commitment just yet. Especially not when she had just spent her entire brunch first being afraid she was pregnant, and trying to act like she was not affected at all by seeing Oscar and Polly. She had dreaded encountering them at the auction house, but knew that she had to show face in front of Rafe and Fiona.
That was probably what made her sick.
Everything with Oscar was so intense, the way they met, falling in love with each other, him letting her go and almost making love with him despite it all after…She wandered around Paris after Shanghai to get over him. After everything it was Rafe who came to Paris for her. It was Rafe again when she was staying in the hotel after she ended it with him, and had believed that if she had left that she would not be back.
But he always came back for her, he always came looking for her. In the very beginning when they were first together and she wanted to run from him, she literally ran from him into the woods. Feeling like Sylvia Plath’s poem for her poet husband, Ted Hughes entitled “Pursuit,” she ran breathing hoarsely away from him deep into the woods.
He caught her.
“I got you, I will never let you go gypsy,” he kissed her forehead.
He used to call her a gypsy when they first got together.
Getting on his knees, he kissed her knees, and then her stomach.
“I love you,” she breathed heavily. Rafe continued to kiss her belly, her empty belly and for a moment she wished she was pregnant.
“It is still the two of us gypsy, the two of us like I always promised it would be…if it is meant to be more it will be someday…”
Eliza was breathless when he said that to her because he had not called her that in a long time, it was if they were having the same memories. She looked down at his head as he continued to kiss her now trembling knees, trembling with the depth of her emotions for him.
The two of them were real.

woman dressed in gypsy costume via wikipedia

More Wicked Wednesday here:

Nichy stared behind Tyler’s head. She had avoided him and Renee all day, with their knowing looks at work and now in their corner of the bar. She came in that morning with Gavin, and Renee smirked at her. They went to the bar afterward because they all wandered out of the office at the same time. Gavin was on her heels, and Nichy remembered the loveliness that was waking up with him that morning even though they had not come anywhere near making love.
The memory of Graham scalded her when she remembered him, and what they had done together the night before. Gavin’s hand on her back felt like fire until she remembered where they were. Now sitting close to him their thighs touching, Tyler and Renee looking expectantly at them yet her mind was somewhere else.
She studied a woman who sat at the bar, and looked like a librarian with her tortoiseshell frames. The edge of those frames were between her lips, when she was not sipping her red wine. Nichy wondered if the woman was waiting for someone, or if she was waiting for someone to come to her…
Gavin’s hand squeezed her thigh, high up enough that it felt like his finger flicked her labia. The more he kneaded, the more aroused she felt. Renee’s hand was on her other thigh. Nichy stared at Tyler, but he became out of focus as she closed her eyes and at the sensation of the two of them touching her. She was afraid to move, until she realized that both of their hands might touch high on her thighs.
“Excuse me,” she said suddenly, getting up from her seat.
She had only had a few glasses of wine, but they had gone to her head more than they usually would have and she wobbled a bit. She actually bumped into the woman with the tortoiseshell eyeglasses.
“Excuse me,” she breathed in a softer voice, than she had to her friends.
“No problem honey,” Tortoiseshell Glasses said to her.
Nichy walked into the bathroom, and looked at her face. She looked worn out, thoroughly used. Graham had been hard on her, but he had not left any marks on her. He usually did like to mark her, but even he realized that she would not be able to explain that to Gavin.
If she had not gotten out of bed, if she had just stayed in the bed maybe she and Gavin would have…
The bathroom door opened on her as a smack on her backside, like a playful spank.
In the mirror, she could see Renee.
“He is so lucky Gavin,” Renee said. “You are such a bombshell.”
“Please,” Nichy answered, wincing at her friend’s reflection.
“You know, Tyler likes you…
Nichy did not have anything to fiddle with, so she fiddled with her hair nervously. Renee fiddled with the same strand, and their fingers mingled in her hair. Nichy stared at Renee, whose breath she could feel warm against face.
“He likes you, and he knows that I like you…he was hoping that things did not work out with you and Gavin. He was hoping, I was hoping…”
Nichy turned around, and Renee swept her hair to the side and kissed her neck.
“Renee—”
Renee caressed Nichy’s side breast, and touched what she had only hinted at under the table then.
Nichy closed her eyes.
When she opened them, Renee was gone.
As if in a dream, she walked out of the bathroom looking cautiously for Renee. Renee was talking to Tortoiseshell Glasses with Tyler.
Nichy rubbed her eyes. Had she imagined in the bathroom with Renee? She sat down next to Gavin.
“Do you want to wake up together tomorrow morning?” he whispered in her ear, his lips on her cheek and neck, were layered with the memory of the feeling of Renee’s there.
She nodded, looking down into her glass of wine and putting her hand over Gavin’s on her thigh.

More Masturbation Monday here:

bar photo by f dot leonora

“So this is the end of the tug and pull between you and my brother?”
Fiona asked Eliza this after Rafe had been called into the office unexpectedly, over her scrambled eggs on a rooftop. Picking up her mimosa, Fiona eyed her expectantly.
Eliza wanted to question Fiona on her sudden devotion to Rafe, being that she had declared that she was in love with her when they were in Shanghai.
At the same time, that Eliza realized she was in love with Oscar.
Oscar…
Seeing him earlier at the auction house had brought on a headache. She had wandered through the entire exhibition of impressionist and modern art without seeing a thing of beauty. She saw Oscar with Polly who he had abandoned her for, and at the same time she remembered him in the hotel when they almost made love…She felt that he wanted her, but they ended up not making love. Eliza knew it was because of Polly. Well Polly was beautiful, but still Oscar had been with her shortly after she left Rafe.
Marcus had been there too, but it was Rafe who came and conquered her. She could not forget that he did that every time she thought that it was the end. It was not. Rafe always possessed her again.
“You don’t know what happened between us Fi,” Eliza said filling her mouth with scrambled eggs.
“I do know, Rafe told me what happened with Sandrine, and I told him he was wrong. He always treats you like that, and it is tiring,” Fiona said, filling her mouth with more scrambled eggs with brown sauce and a bit of beans. The place where they were having brunch was very English. “I just hope that this time you both realize that you need to make up your minds, and be serious about being together. Mom and Dad are even worn out.”
“You really have no right to access this Fi, you really don’t!”
Eliza put her fork down. Suddenly the scrambled eggs made her feel nauseous, even though they were perfect. Tears came to her eyes nonetheless, and she ran to the bathroom.
She needed to be alone.
Her period was way overdue, and the nausea she had. She was going to have to take an emergency trip to the drug store. Pulling all of her hair to one side, she tugged on it anxiously as she vomited. Her eyes filled with tears from the act, and then after because she was scared. She had never been pregnant before. As long as she and Rafe had been together, she had never missed a period.
Eliza let het hair fall loose and looked in the mirror, knowing he must know that her period was late.
“Are you okay?”
Eliza looked at Fiona who had come into the bathroom.
Fiona looked between her and the sink.
“It smells like sick in here,” Fiona said opening the small window in the corner.
“I was sick,” Eliza said shrugging.
Fiona stared at her for a long time.
“Are you pregnant Eliza?”
Eliza stared at Fiona without blinking.

More Wicked Wednesday here:

scrambled eggs with brown sauce photo by f dot leonora

Polly was too refined to have a full out argument with Oscar that morning. Colin teased her that she looked like a flapper when she walked over to him, to avoid having that argument and especially when Eliza walked in with Rafe.Polly smiled softly at Colin, who remembered her from her goth days and when she had dressed up like little Bo Peep. Colin was the reason why she did not make a fuss about Eliza. There was always going to be a connection between her and Colin, they had imbibed each other’s blood as cocktails–how was it not going to be intense between them? Sometimes she felt like she could feel Colon’s heart beat inside his chest, and she wondered if he could feel hers as well.

But to be fair, Colin was pushing things. There had always been an open door for him usually when she was in a relationship, but with Oscar was the first time that she was trying to just be with him. Colin was giving away art that she had never thought he would give away and acquiring art she could not refuse to be in her life. The preview this morning was some of the most exquisite artwork she had ever acquired. And he would only give it to her so it moved up her status at the auction house.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Oscar look at Eliza. She had to admit that Eliza was gorgeous. The story Oscar told of picking her up in a bar, when she was engaged to the devastatingly attractive man next to her seemed a bit preposterous. Eliza and Rafe were an it couple, Polly had read about them for years in the gossip columns or seen pictures of them attending events. 

Or seen them with Rafe’s sister Fiona, during previews. She never would have guessed in a million years that she and Oscar–that she had been trying to deny her feelings for–would end up in the middle of them. Even her assistant Alice was involved, it seemed incestuous.

But then Oscar’s eyes were on hers. Dark and overpowering.

“You better go to him, no one wants an extra bloody Mary this morning,” Colin said.

Polly stuck out her tongue at him, and he licked his lips.

She turned quickly on her impossibly high heel, and walked over to Oscar.

“I need to be alone with you,” Oscar said, when she walked over to him.

“And pretend I am Eliza?” Polly asked, her arms folded across her sheer blouse and she pulled at her pearl necklace.

“Does it matter?”

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. She hated herself, because it turned her on like hell that he would be with her and think of Eliza. 

“Go to your office, don’t let Alice follow you, and I will be there shortly.”

Oscar had a rough side, and she liked it when he played rough with her.

Polly felt desire tremor through her body, even though she looked completely composed. She almost lost it when she got to her desk. But she did not want to be in a disarray, well not before Oscar put her in one.

She was at her desk, facing the huge windows behind it looking out at the morning that had started so tumultuously and now was calming down. She felt Oscar come down the hall, and her hips shifted as she felt him walk into the room.

He closed the door behind him, before he walked to her and placed his hands on her hips. She closed her eyes and looked out at New York City spread out before her, holding onto her desk like it was New York’s hips.

She did not mind if he was thinking of Eliza because he was with her, and she knew he wanted to be. The same way she did not put her foot down about Colin, even as she knew it pissed Oscar off. Colin was her Eliza. But now she and Oscar chose to be together, they wanted to be together.

When she opened her eyes, the morning sun was high in the sky.

 More morning here:

  
morning by f dot leonora

Oscar stood across from Polly, she looked beautiful but severe. Alice had stared between them, so he knew it was tense enough that she felt it as well. But Alice had gone to get coffee for them. They had not opened the viewing for the public, but Colin was there. Colin lingered by a DuBuffet, one of the several pieces that he had in the sale and he also lingered around Polly.
So Oscar stood across from Polly, and wanted to be angry. Wanted to show he was angry that Colin was there, that he was always there. He was convinced Colin acquired the pieces so that he could sell them to her.
Yet he could not say a word, and he knew that she knew it. Colin was her Eliza basically. Polly let him go see Eliza, without questioning him because he explained the nature of their relationship. Even though the last time that he saw Eliza, he wanted to sleep with her. He didn’t though, and came home to Polly. Right after that, there was Colin like a shadow all the time. Polly had not planned it to be vindictive, half of the sale was his pieces. Including the star Modigliani that Colin now circulated around.
“Here is your coffee,” Alice said.
Polly smiled, and took a sip.
“This is Oscar’s,” Polly smiled at him, and licked a bit of foam from her lip.
Oscar took the cup, continuing to stare at Polly as he sipped.
“Thank you,” he said with a delay, monitoring Polly’s eyes.
And then the energy in the room changed like lightning.
Alice moved like lightning when she saw Fiona. Oscar smiled, thinking about the ease with which Fiona and Alice connected. But seeing Fiona put him on alert. First he saw Rafe, and then he saw Eliza.
Eliza’s eyes were filled with hunting for him as well. Her dark hair was pulled up messily in a bun that still looked elegant nonetheless.
But when she put her hand to her face, he was startled to see the familiar diamond on her finger. When he met her at the bar, the ring was prominent to him but he did not let it deter him from getting closer to her. Her eyes fell on him as he revisited that night in his head. The not knowing if she was going to go with him, the first time he touched her…
They looked at each other for a long moment, before he caught himself. When he turned to look at 
Polly, she was staring at Eliza. Polly looked at him briefly, then looked at Colin.
“Go say hello to your Eliza,” Polly said coolly, not looking at him.
“Polly…”
Polly cocked her head to the side, and Colin walked over to her.
“You are covering one of my best paintings Polly,” he said, his hands on her hips to move her out of the way.
Oscar went to tap him on the shoulder, but the look on Polly’s face made him think otherwise. So he leaned there, and watched Colin. Colin moved his hands from her hips, and talked about Dubuffet.
It was not until the cocktail party that night, that he actually spoke to Eliza. She stood by the bar, staring at her fiancé.
“Waiting again like if for Godot?” Oscar asked, his tongue swirling around a cocktail onion.
“Where is your girlfriend?” Eliza said.
“Further away than your fiancé…” Oscar’s voice trailed, and he realized the unintentional double entendre in what he said.
He did not know where his fiancée was, but he knew where Eliza was…

More revisiting here:

cocktail onion via google images