HIS FIRST LADY(SANDRO MARCOS)

Chapter 6: Which Of Them Is Your Wife?

I duck back around the corner before Sandro can notice me. When I heard the Marcos name, I thought it was a coincidence. Even now, having seen with my own eyes. I couldn't quite believe my eyes.

How can a Representative be a DJ? Or... is this all some kind of horrible misunderstanding.

God, no wonder he was so upset about the check!

Pressing my hands against the side of my head, I half hope that the world might blink out of existence and take me with it. Anything to get me out of the utter embarrassment that I'm sure to face the moment I step out from behind this tent and have to face Sandro again.

I can't hide forever though. Even with the embarrassment, taking care of the event and it's attendees is my job, a job that I'm proud to have and damn good at.

Gathering my courage, I suck in a deep inhale. Hold. One, two, three, and release.

Okay. I can face this. I'm not ashamed.

I take step out from behind the refreshment tent and then I see Samuel standing in the line to speak with Senator Marcos. On Samuel's arm is Kaylee.

Confusion wracks my brain again. Samuel said we didn't need to come to this event, so why is he here with my sister? Unless, of course, that was just one more lie in a series of Samuel lies.

Unlike with Sandro, though, I feel no compulsion to hide my face. Rather, I'm ready to make my presence known, just so I can see the look on Samuel's.

Lifting my head high, I cross the grassy field until I reach the stone concourse and many, my husband and my apparent rival.

"Hello Samuel. Kaylee."

Kaylee's eyes go wide, taking me in. "Rafha," she says lightly as she slowly unwinds her arm from my husband's.

"What the he'll are you doing here?" Samuel snaps so loudly, it draws the attention of those nearby.
"I told you not to come."

"Please keep your voice down," I say calmly and with the authority of my position here at the country club. "You don't need to startle other guests."

"You are stalking me, aren't you? You can't stand the thought of me leaving without you. You've come here to embarrass me."

The only person embarrassing Samuel in this moment is Samuel himself.

"I'm not here for you,"! I tell him.

His eyes borrow. "Bullshit."

"Please don't use such language," I say.

"Look at you. Look at that dammed dress."

My dress is entirely tasteful. It is cut above the knee but not so far to cause any scandal certainly not as short as my dress from last night.

"You've been trying to dress younger than you are," Samuel snaps. " You are a thirty year old mother of two, Rafha. Accept that and dress the part."

My sister, meanwhile, is wearing a skirt much shorter than mine and a blouse with plunging neckline. But, as she is 8 years my junior, he must see the acceptable.

I procure one of my business cards from my pocket and hand it to them.

"What's this?" he asks and snatches it from my hand. "Event planner? What bullshit is this?!"

"I'm working this event," I say. "I helped plan it."

Samuel suddenly grabs my wrist. He's not holding it tightly enough to hurt, but the suddenness of his movement startles me. It frightens me.

"Let me go," I keep my voice light, not wanting to cause a scene.

"You are my wife," he hisses in return, as if that gives him any right to touch me however he pleases.

"Mr. Samuel! There you are!" A friendly older voice calls for Samuel, and he immediately swivel's away from me. Like a light switch flipped, his demeanor shifts to bright sunshine in two seconds flat.

"Mr. Franco," Samuel says. Franco shakes Samuel hand.

Mr. Franco is the 70 year old owner of the Rockview Elite Country Club. He is a kind older man, but stern, with a shock of white hair, and a distant sort of smile that makes me think he always has one foot in the past somewhere, reliving a happy memory.

"Allow me a moment to praise your wife." Franco holds his arm out towards me. "She has done some amazing work with this event. Celest was worried sick, but Rafha swooped in and took care of everything. She's truly a blessing to the country club."

"Yes," Samuel says, his smile growing tight.
"Thank you. She is....something. Certainly."

Behind his back, Kaylee glares at me so much ferocity, I'm surprised I don't burst into flame.

Franco soon gets called away, and I start to excuse myself. I have plenty of other work to do, and one of the last things in the world I want to hear right now is another one of Samuel's lectures.

He doesn't let me get far before he's gripping me again at the arm.

"Not here," I tell him.

His eyes reveal his fury, but glancing around, he seems to come to his senses and releases me. "At home."

I nod. Later, I'll deal with his drama. For now, I have to handle this event.

I turn around quickly and nearly run straight into a strong, all too familiar chest. Albeit, one that is now covered in a striking blue suit.

Swallowing thickly, I'm suddenly face to face with Sandro Marcos once again.

Do I say hello? Do I apologize? Does he even recognize me? His eyes reveal nothing.

A thousand questions run through my head. Before I can find any answers, he glances away from me and looks at Samuel instead.

"Did I hear Mr.Franco introduce you as Mr.Samuel?" Sandro said. He sidesteps me to approach my husband. "Mr.Samuel from the North-burgh Technology Company?"

"That's right." Samuel puffs out his chest and holds out his hand. "I've recently been promoted to regional CEO."

Sandro ignores Samuel's hand. "How nice. Thought I admittedly am confused."

Samuel's smile wavers. He holds his hand outward for only a moment more before letting it drop.
"What would be confusing?"

"Earlier, I heard you introduce Miss...Kaylee, was it? As your date," Sandro says.

Kaylee blushes as Sandro acknowledges her. This time, I really can't blame her. The man has that effect on everyone.

"You must be mistaken," Samuel says, but he's fumbling.

"I don't think so." Sandro glances back at me. "I never forget a face."

Oh, God. So he definitely didn't forget! My heart picks up speed,pounding at fast cadence in my chest.

Sandro look back to Samuel. "But Mr. Franco just introduced this woman, Rafha, as your wife. Surely Mr. Franco is not in error. After all, he would know one of his own employees, especially one as talented as Rafha, for having arranged such a lovely party."

The compliment sends ride surging through me, even as embarrassment is takin root. Is Sandro seeking to punish me by exposing me as a woman being cheated on in her own place of employment? Or is the trick to make Samuel the one uncomfortable, as punishment for being a cheater?

I don't know Sandro well enough to surmise. I can certainly hope though l, and I'm hoping pretty hard.

"So, Mr. Samuel. Which is it?" Sandro asks.
"Which of these women is actually your wife?"