Diggs decided against going back to his apartment, knowing that that was not a good idea. The bruises on his body would be a dead giveaway. Someone may think of calling his parole officer, and then shit would hit the fan, that was for sure.
It was then that he spotted the buildings a block away. He gathered whatever strength he had and hobbled his way down the sidewalk. He passed a dump, spotted the crowbar and the bandages, and picked both items from the trash.
It took a few attempts before he found this particular structure. The door gave way instantly, indicating that hobos used the place for shelter. It didn’t matter. He would burrow his broken body here in this dump and wait until he felt better.
He had all the time in the world. A bottle of whiskey lay discarded on its side and he picked it up and savored the few drops that remained. A half-smoked cigarette was among the treasures he also found and yesterday’s tabloid that was rolled and stuck into the side of the chesterfield.
Diggs slowly unrolled the newspaper, not really intent on reading. He was never that kind of dude. But the front page immediately grabbed his attention. He lifted the sheet closer to the window.
It was her, Diggs was certain. She looked different, sure. And the photograph was a bit grainy.
But he recognized at once that it was Noelle’s face on the newspaper with some guy he didn’t recognize. Despite the gloom, he managed to read the short article. He put the paper down slowly. He was perplexed and baffled by what he had just read.
Noelle was seeing some fancy guy named Hunter Blackwell. The write-up called him a billionaire businessman.
“Holy fuck…”
An idea began to form in his head. Despite the pain, he couldn’t help the malevolent leer that appeared on his face. His life had just taken a turn for the better, despite all the beating that he had just taken. But he had to think things through and plan his next move.
Folding the tabloid carefully into a square, he pocketed it and stretched his body down onto the dirty sofa.
Noelle was his meal ticket now. If he played his cards right, he need not worry about getting a job. Money would never pose a problem again. Fuck. He deserved a better life anyway.
Chapter Eleven
For the second time since Hunter arrived in her life, Noelle Mancini once again stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was tempted to ask her glam squad how they managed to pull this magical creature out of the hat.
Getting to a significant day like her wedding was like going through a meat grinder. Noelle recognized the fact that Hunter was wealthy. She would soon find out exactly how affluent the man was as he would shortly be walking down the aisle by her side.
If a man’s bank account was measured by the prominent names that made it to the guest list, Hunter was certainly at the top of the heap. Noelle was blown away by the names on the guest list that composed of the crème dela crème and top elite figures in New York City. Political figures from the Mayor, Lieutenant Governor, and Attorney General, down to the comptroller were invited. The state senate and the state assembly alone composed nearly a hundred members. Then there were names that Noelle only read about in Forbes Magazine. Movie stars, models and other members of the performing arts composed the rest of the inventory in their wedding guest list.
Noelle doubted that she needed both hands to count the number of people she actually knew.
The cast and crew that needed to make the wedding happen were staggering as well. There were wedding planners who had to set their egos aside to work together to come up with a lavish single idea. Wedding music was to be provided by a string quartet at the cathedral and a 24-piece orchestra at the party venue.
The Plaza Hotel, as the venue, was chosen for a sentimental reason. It was where they had their first dance.
Then there were the flowers that would adorn both the church and The Met ballroom. They had to be flown in from Amsterdam by cargo plane. The caterers outdid themselves in presenting various menu lists with food items and names that Noelle could hardly pronounce.
Oftentimes, she felt like running for the hills screaming. Hunter had the good sense of sending over Lisa, his personal secretary, who arrived with her own retinue of minions. When Noelle was swamped with requests for approval, she would look at Lisa with panic-stricken eyes. Lisa would shoo everyone away, talk to her about what she wanted, and take over the mob.
What Noelle wanted and what Hunter needed were two different things. If Noelle had her way, it would have been a simple private affair with just her, Nikko and Miranda. But Hunter was not just anybody. He was trying to win in public office. That meant that this wedding had to be as well-publicized as a Broadway play.
Noelle understood the need.
All these were the consequences of agreeing to marry him that night at the beach. What began as recognition of her true feelings for him resulted in the bedlam that followed after the announcement came out.
The betrothal was featured in the society pages of The New York Times. The announcement stirred media interest about the unknown girl who managed to capture the heart of one of America’s most eligible billionaire bachelors, and would-be senator. The date of the wedding was eagerly anticipated.
James Powell was true to his word. All the obstacles that Hunter initially faced simply faded away. The upcoming wedding announcement even bolstered media mileage for the political party that once told him that he wasn’t a suitable candidate.
Noelle, however, was not ready for how the paparazzi hounded her like a rabbit in a Fox Hunt. They were everywhere. She feared for her own safety and that of Nikko as well. She couldn’t bring him to the park or even shop at the nearby fish market without her picture appearing in the tabloids. Noelle desperately hoped all the attention would eventually die down after the wedding. So she squared her shoulders and plunged headlong on her wedding preparations.
Under Lisa’s expert hands, the wedding finally took shape. The only hitch to her happiness was Hunter himself. He became a man obsessed with his own preparation. His eyes were focused on the starting line that was the day when the campaign period officially began. They hardly saw each other. She had to be content with the occasional phone calls. That glitch in their relationship was something that she accepted and understood.
But she couldn’t get over the reality that her ex-boyfriend, Diggs Romero made another appearance at the café. This time, Miranda was adamant that he stayed outside the premises until opening time. She knew all about him now and threatened to call 9-11 if he insisted. Diggs tried to sweet talk her but Miranda was having none of it. She answered only his most basic questions about her name and nationality before closing the door on his face.
Diggs accosted Noelle the moment she showed up. Noelle noted the bruises on his face and arms and concluded he was back to his old ways. But when he had the gall to ask for money, Noelle was ready.
“Go to hell.”
Diggs reacted like a wounded viper, cussing, and threatening, reminding her who he was.
“He’s my son and fuck you if you think I won’t fight for him,” he threatened.
“You’re nothing but a glorified sperm donor, asshole.” She retorted.
“You talk like you got it all. I happen to know you lied about the immigration problem.”
Alarm bells rang in her ear.
“How-how did you even know about that?”
“I ain’t stupid, Noelle. I called up the Immigrations’ office pretending to be family. I asked when you could come and get your documents. Imagine my surprise. They said they had nothing on a Noelle Mancini. You lied.”
Noelle decided to confront him with the truth.
“That may be so but I’m getting married soon. That should solve the matter,” she answered airily, a confidence she really didn’t feel.
“I’ve always wondered about that. But I’m not really surprised you managed to hook a big fish. That cunt of yours was always the best part of you.”
Noelle gasped in anger. She ra
ised a hand and gave him a resounding slap.
“You’re a filthy ex-convict who deserves to rot in jail. If you ever come near me again, I swear I’ll have you locked up even if I have to use all my fiancée’s resources.”
Fear crossed his face. He backed away mumbling as he rubbed the palm print on his face.
“This is not the last you’ll hear from me,”
Noelle decided against mentioning the encounter to Hunter. He had a lot of things on his mind and he was seldom around so whenever he actually was there with her, Noelle just wanted to spend time with him.
Noelle eventually got so caught up in the frenzy for her wedding preparations that she managed to put Diggs out of her mind.
***
The day finally arrived. Today was her wedding day. Hunter hired the penthouse suite of a five-star hotel for her and that was where she now stood, breathlessly gazing at her reflection.
As she gazed at her image in the mirror, she thought her wedding gown was the most enchanting creation she had ever seen. The couturier was selected from a French atelier. Noelle insisted on merging simplicity and classic styles. The couturier delivered.
The dress was made of hand-cut English and Chantilly lace that included surprise detailing like images of various flowers embroidered on the bodice and skirt. Silk organza-covered buttons ran the entire length of her back. It hugged her body because of the narrowed waistline, giving her an hourglass figure. Her veil was ivory lace and displayed similar flower patterns as the skirt. The train was ten feet long.
When her makeup was being done, she insisted on a natural look, not realizing the “no make-up look” took hours to achieve. Her hair was pulled away from her face and lay in soft waves against her shoulder.
“You look stunning,” said Lisa, who entered the room silently and whispered in awe, “Hunter would approve,” she remarked, wiping a tear from her eye.
Noelle saw Lisa then for the first time without her outrageous hair color. As a concession to the boss she adored, it was now silver, colored with streaks of gray. It suited her. But a gown was still a no-no. Instead, she opted for a silk pantsuit.
“Lisa… you look beautiful,” Noelle gushed.
“Bah! Today is not about me. It’s about you and Hunter.”
She herded Noelle's glam squad out of the room, informing them that coasters waited at the lobby to ferry them to the church. When they were alone once more, Lisa clasped her hands together in happiness looking at Noelle.
“I’m nervous,” Noelle confessed/confided.
“Nothing to be nervous about. You’re just marrying one of the richest men in the world. Women are probably cursing you right now,” she laughed.
Distress fleeted across Noelle’s face.
“Now now, I was just trying to make you smile.” Lisa took her hands and said, “He chose you. That’s all that matters. Hunter is a keeper. Look at me. I’m still in his life.”
Noelle wondered if Lisa knew the terms of their marriage. Hunter wasn’t marrying her for love. He was marrying her out of need - just as she was. The only difference: she knew that she loved him but was clueless about the state of his heart.
Hunter liked her, she was certain. But as she prepared to meet him at the altar, that wasn’t enough anymore. It could be the dress, the make-up, the fairytale setting, or the reality that the whole wedding was more of a show to get him closer to his ambition.
But Noelle wished for nothing more than to someday hear him say “I love you”.
Church bells rang as the white limousine ferrying her entered the driveway of the cathedral. The clanging of the bells was in perfect harmony with the wild beating of her heart. A flock of white doves suddenly filled the air, released on cue, from the belfry.
The church was packed, evidenced by the sheer volume of expensive cars lining the boulevard. Policemen on horseback were patrolling the streets, keeping the curious onlookers and media frenzy that broke out occasionally, restricted to the other side of the road.
A cacophony of camera shutter sounds filled the air as Noelle stepped out of the limo. Paparazzi called her name even as wedding planners and her personal glam squad surrounded her, fixing the creases on her dress and retouching her still perfect make-up.
Noelle entered into a Zen state, allowing them to do their job. Mr. Brain commanded Mrs. Heart to get lost, and took over. A serene calmness filled Noelle’s being. She raised her chin and relaxed her shoulders. A deacon led her to the closed door of the basilica as strains of the Wedding March, played by the string quartet, emanated from the inside. Then the doors were dramatically pulled open, giving the audience, who all turned towards her direction, a view of her silhouette with the sunlight streaming behind her.
An audible gasp filled the air.
Noelle stepped into the darkened interior entrance of the church and saw Nikko standing there. He was marching with his mom to the altar. The sight of the little boy, looking so dapper in his white three-piece suit, almost brought her to tears. But Nikko grinned happily as he took his Mommy’s hand.
The red carpet was lengthy as Noelle navigated the aisle leading to the altar. Seeing the familiar face of Miranda who gave her a thumbs-up of approval was comforting. There was also Lisa who dabbed a hanky to her eyes. Noelle recognized some of the guests from the Governor’s Ball including James Powell who grinned from ear to ear.
Then… there was her groom looking so devastatingly attractive, so self-assured, waiting to meet her at the foot of the altar. Her son’s suit was the perfect replica of Hunter’s own. Nikko shook hands solemnly with Hunter before he took his place in the front pew.
Noelle felt Hunter’s hand on her elbow squeezing her reassuringly. He smiled even as his eyes gleamed in triumph. He mouthed three simple words.
You look perfect.
They weren’t the words Noelle longed to hear. But she had to be content…for now. Then Hunter guided her tenderly up the altar to the minister who was tasked to seal their vows as husband and wife.
***
The wedding reception at the Met was just as extravagant as the church ceremony. Champagne and caviar were overflowing. Gold-plated silverware gleamed against the thousands upon thousands of fairy lights that dropped from the ceiling. Similar lights adorned the flowers, turning the Met into a veritable Garden of Eden.
Noelle’s head was spinning from the number of well-wishes offered to her and Hunter.
Uniformed waiters kept champagne and wine glasses constantly filled as the orchestra set the mood for the extravagant dinner and the dancing that followed.
When the orchestra played the song “At Last,” Hunter took the cue and led his wife to the middle of the dance floor where they had their first dance as a couple. Noelle was initially conscious about the eyes that were trained on them alone. But Hunter’s confidence and his arm around her waist was enough. She followed his expert moves easily. When the song came to an end, he kissed her in front of the entire assembly. It was a kiss that was just as passionate as their first kiss in the patio, with just the moon and the sea as their witness.
It was a wedding reception that lasted till the wee hours of the morning and landed on the front pages of the newspapers the very next day.
Chapter Twelve
True to his character, Hunter took off from his hectic schedule and announced that he was taking his new bride to Paris for a week-long honeymoon.
Noelle was introduced to a city famous for being a global fashion mecca. Hunter lavished her with designer clothes that she had only dreamt about in the past.
“Enough already. I have three suitcases full of clothes.”
Hunter smiled as he sweet-talked her on taking another one.
“You’ll need clothes once I am elected into office. I won’t have my wife looking like a frump. What would people think of me?”
It was always about what people would think or say. But that was the very essence of their marriage. Noelle shrugged the gloomy thought aside.
; “Have you heard the results of the latest survey?” She asked curiously
The survey was a poll conducted by a private corporation to gauge the likeability of the senatorial aspirants. It gave the candidates an idea about the pulse of the masses.
“Yup. Guess who’s topping the list?” he answered smugly.
Noelle squealed in delight. So she didn’t fuss when Hunter indicated to the sales lady that they were taking two more designer dresses along with them. She was just so happy for him.
He brought her to famous restaurants like Ducasse’s whose three-star Michelin rating became Noelle’s secret envy. He wasn’t averse to bringing her to quaint out-of-the-way places, too, where Noelle learned about authentic Parisian cuisine.
The Boss's Fiance Box Set Page 8