THE COST OF BEING RICH
Chapter Two
My first glimpse of her was at the wedding of
my business partner, Hiber Bukater, and her mother. She was only a girl of
thirteen at the time, but she radiated enough beauty to light up the entire
wedding hall even at such a tender age.
As most readers would, I assume you would
like a description of this magnificent creature. And oh! How difficult it would
be to give you an accurate one. A beauty such as she cannot be described
through any words in the English language--nor Italian or German or French for
that matter--but I will do my best. Imagine, if you will, a slim body with
creamy pale skin that just may be softer than the silk dress flowing delicately
along the newly-forming curves. Now imagine the utterly perfect, oval head with
long hair as straight as a preacher and the most magnificent red you can
imagine, flowing down the shoulders and back. And it wasn’t just red. It had
golden streaks that took the beauty from the streaming-in sun and made it look
like shadow. But that’s not the best of it. Oh, gosh no. Now onto the face.
Big, blue eyes that will trap you in their gaze if you stare too long. And
long, curving lashes that brush against your lips when you dance with her. And
if you venture to look at her nose you will be able to see an elegant nose that
the most famous of sculptors could never recreate. Then, the bravest of the
brave will look at her mouth. She was pouting all day, which made her more
irresistible than ever for her lips were full and pink and inviting. And, while
you were dancing with her you would always feel an indescribable urge to pull
her closer. And finally, when you did so, you would fall into complete bliss as
the smooth skin struck against yours and all your muscles tightened. Just as
you couldn’t imagine things any better, she would look up at you with those
bewitching eyes. But all signs of the brooding anger would be gone. You would
see the innocence and wonder at the fact that you aren’t a soppy puddle on the
floor by now. Then the music would end and you would force yourself to let her
go and thank her for the dance.
For the next three years, I wouldn’t see her.
I thought about her much the first months, but I was like a trained pup by
then. The coldness in my heart kicked in, and I rarely thought of the darling
Rose.