by Maryann Reid
“What happened?” Suki leaned forward, her eyes studying every detail of Blake’s face. Watching for any sign I might be lying, Blake realized.
“It was wonderful,” Blake said, and it was the truth. “He treated me to a fancy dinner and a Broadway play. We talked about his career as an actor, and he was so sad about his fading popularity. I told him I was planning to get out of modeling, and start investing in real estate like my dad did for a few years. He was really interested, and he encouraged me. He said he needed to find something else to do, too, and joked that maybe he’d be begging me for a job soon.”
Suki shot a glance at Matt and Antonio. “Uh-oh.” The two men nodded agreement.
“I don’t understand.” Blake frowned. She was usually so quick-witted. Either the lingering effects of flu or the Jack and Coke were messing with her head.
“That was a red flag, if you’d only known it,” Antonio said, still looking terribly sad. “Most men don’t like the idea of a woman telling them what to do. He wasn’t making a joke or respecting your business ability, he was seeing how you’d react to the idea of being his boss.”
“How did you react?” asked Matt.
Blake struggled to remember. “Lang is…quite a few years older than me.” She wanted to glance at Matt, see what he thought of this revelation, since he was dating an older woman. With all her willpower, she forced herself to keep looking at Suki instead. “Being with him felt more like being with an older brother than a young stud in a rush to get laid.”
“Older brother,” Suki said, her voice gentle and quiet, “or father?”
Her chest hurt when she thought about it. “God…”
Antonio reached across the table and laid a comforting hand on her arm. “Keep going. You can do this, and it’s helping us help you.”
She nodded and hurried on. “I wasn’t really attracted to him, but I kept seeing him because he was just so good to me. Then he found out I was still dating other guys, and he slapped my face so hard I had a bruise for almost a week.” Blake grimaced. “I had to reschedule one photo shoot and wear heavy makeup for another. He tried to apologize, but I wouldn’t talk to him anymore. And I told him so.”
“That decision didn’t stick, though,” Matt said. “Why?”
“Because a few months after I broke things off with Lang, I was raped.” She drank the rest of her Jack and Coke, needing a few seconds to brace herself to talk about that. “I worked late, and when I got home my apartment was completely dark. Someone was there…waiting for me. It was dark. I couldn’t see him. He grabbed me from behind, and uh…” Blake paused with a flash of the brutal moment he raped her before her eyes. “And I got pregnant. I thought about getting an abortion, but I couldn’t help thinking I’d be executing a baby for its father’s crime. But I couldn’t be the baby’s mother, either, because I was afraid I’d hate it for the way it came into my life. So I booked several months at an expensive spa in Switzerland that guarantees total privacy.”
Antonio nodded. “You told the world you had a bad case of mono, but really you were giving birth in secret.”
“Yeah.” Blake suddenly realized she was touching the scar on her forehead, and tucked her hand inside her bathrobe pocket. “When I’d arranged the adoption and got myself back in the same physical shape I had before I got pregnant, I came back to the United States. Lang hired some guy to visit me dressed as a teddy bear and read me a letter that Lang had written to me. He said he was a changed man, that when he heard about my illness he realized he needed to get help for his anger and drug problems. The teddy bear had copies of Lang’s payments to the rehab place he went to. He said he’d never cared about anyone as much as he cared about me, and begged me for another chance.”
“So you gave him one?” Matt sounded stunned, even though Blake’s ten-year marriage proved she’d given Lang another chance eventually. Blake smiled. It’s not hard to see what Miranda must see in him. He’s such a sweet kid.
“Not at first. I told him I’d try being friends with him, and maybe, if I really believed he’d changed, just maybe we’d try dating each other again. I also told him I planned to see other men, unless I became convinced Lang is the love of my life. He said he looked forward to winning me over.” Blake handed her empty glass to Suki, who had motioned for her to pass it over for a refill.
“Well, we know he succeeded, because you ended up marrying him,” said Antonio. “How long did it take for him to start beating you up?”
“That started as soon as we came home from our honeymoon. We’d bought a house before our wedding, and after our honeymoon we moved in. When we finished unpacking, Lang told me he wanted me to clean the house naked except for a pair of high-heeled shoes.” She paused for a sip of her Jack and Coke refill, then said, feeling heat rise in her cheeks, “I thought it was a sex thing. He followed me around, watching me, and I thought he was just waiting until he was turned on and ready to fuck. I wasn’t really trying to do a great job of cleaning, because I thought we’d hire a maid. We could afford one without any problem. But then he asked me if I really thought the master bathroom was clean, and he punched me in the stomach. In high heels, I never had a chance of staying on my feet. I fell and hit my head on the corner of the sink counter…and got this scar.”
“You asked about Brett, Boss, and we said we want to talk about him too,” said Suki. “We were going to ask you about the high heels you keep by your bed, because Brett has been asking about them.”
Blake felt like someone had knocked her on the head with a sledgehammer. “Who has he been asking?”
Matt tapped a few keys on his smartphone and turned the display so that Blake could see it. He was showing her a picture he’d taken with the phone’s camera, and the picture was of a phone’s list of made calls. She recognized numbers: Vickie’s, Edith’s, Charles’s, even the house phone of her mother’s island condo.
“Everyone he thought might know the answers to his questions, and whose phone number he could get from your phone while you were sick, Boss,” said Suki. “He could have grabbed it when I was in the shower. It’s the only time that phone would be out of my sight.”
“To be fair,” Antonio said quietly, “we don’t know why he’s been asking personal questions about you. But with his history, we’re worried his intentions may not be good.”
“I want to go back to bed.” Blake wished she hadn’t woken up yet. She felt weary in her bones and torn up in her heart.
“One more question, Boss.” Suki laid a hand on Blake’s shoulder. Even though Suki seemed to be barely touching her, Blake found she couldn’t stand up. “Is there anyone else who might have a grudge against you?”
Blake searched her memory for a few seconds. “The publicist I had before I hired Vickie. Remember we found out she’s been talking crap about me to other publicists, Antonio?”
He nodded. “We’ll do a background check on her, try to find out if she’s someone who’d do even worse.”
“Thanks for trusting us, Ms. Bertrand.” Matt stood up and helped Blake to her feet. “I’ll help you back to bed, and Suki will help you out of your bathrobe if you want her to.”
“Never mind the robe.” Blake leaned against Matt, and thought again that it wasn’t any wonder Miranda was crazy about this younger man. “I just want to get under the covers and sleep for another week.”
Chapter Fourteen
April 6
New York, New York
When Blake next woke up, it was to the familiar tune of “Message in a Bottle” coming from her BlackBerry. She picked it up and found that she’d just received a text message from Vickie:
Am I feeling that much better yet? Blake lay in bed for a few minutes, contemplating that question. Her throat felt fine, she no longer hurt all over, and her sinuses were mostly clear. She felt worn out, but another day or two of rest would probably solve that problem.
Two shopping bags sat next to B
rett’s luggage; he’d stayed a few more nights at the hotel to give her space. Evidently he’d come and gone again while she slept. She wondered what he’d been buying, and whose money he had used to do it.
Blake crawled out of bed, still in her bathrobe, and stepped into her slippers. Her stomach grumbled for more food as she shuffled into the kitchen, and she pressed the speed-dial number for Vickie as she tried to decide what kind of cereal she wanted.
“Hi there, Blake,” Vickie said after only one ring. “Your assistant called and told me you got hit by the flu. I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to call me back, though, because I’ve got good news for you.”
“What’s that?”
Honey Smacks would be yummy.
“Remember the new reality TV show I told you about, and the producers wanted to talk to you about being the host of the show?”
“Yeah.” She moved the BlackBerry to her other ear, freeing her dominant hand to pour Honey Smacks into a bowl. Even so, her arm trembled with exhaustion, and she spilled some.
“Well, they phoned me again and said they still think you’re perfect for the job. Mind you, I’m sure that means they talked to some other business tycoons and decided nobody else has as much charisma as you do. But what’s important is that you still have the opportunity.”
“That’s nice.” Blake wrestled with the milk, trying to hold her arm steadier than she’d managed with the cereal. She only dribbled a little onto the table when she lifted the carton away from the bowl.
“How soon do you think you’d be able to meet with them? They’d really like to talk to you as soon as possible.”
“I’m still sort of weak, but otherwise okay. Maybe Wednesday. Or Thursday, if they think the meeting will take longer than an hour.” She cleaned up her spills with a paper towel and realized she still hadn’t gotten out a spoon.
“I’ll ask them how long they anticipate the meeting lasting, and schedule it accordingly. But…Blake?”
“Mmmm-hmmm?” Blake spooned Honey Smacks into her mouth without even sitting down yet. They were as delicious as she remembered, the flavors of honey and milk all swirling around her tongue.
“Don’t blow them off again. Not even if you relapse. If anything goes wrong this time, they’ll probably settle for someone with less personality and more greed for their money.”
She dropped her spoon into the bowl and resisted the urge to cuss out her publicist. “I’ll meet with them, Vickie, but you need to understand something. I’m good at making money, but I don’t love money for its own sake. Money is only as valuable as the good uses it’s put to.”
“Well, you need to understand something, too, Blake. You’ve got a right to your opinion, and maybe that opinion serves you well in real estate. But now you’re getting into other projects, and you need your face in the public view to build support for your goals. Everyone you need to help you with that—reporters, celebrities, marketers, everyone—does love money for its own sake. You’d better learn to help them get what they want, if you want them to help you get the things you want.”
Vickie clicked the call off, and Blake sat brooding over her cereal. “It’s just like the late great Gilda Radner used to say,” she told the frog on the cereal box. “It’s always something—if it isn’t one thing, it’s another.”
The frog on the box grinned, confident that by the time she finished eating his cereal she’d feel much better. “Frogs aren’t exactly known for their brain power,” she told him. “Why would frogs have anything to do with honey, anyway?”
She didn’t know, and the frog fortunately didn’t answer her question. But the cereal did cheer her up some.
Chapter Fifteen
April 9
New York, New York
Thursday was the day Vickie scheduled the meeting between Blake and the television producers who wanted to hire her to host their new reality show. Late Wednesday afternoon, however, script problems with a show they were already producing forced them to reschedule. Blake was secretly relieved. She still didn’t have her normal high energy back, and she welcomed the chance to stay in her apartment and rest.
Brett, on the contrary, had other ideas. He pranced through her apartment door Thursday afternoon with a pair of tickets in hand.
“Pack your bags, babe. I have a surprise for you. We’re going to Las Vegas for a long weekend!” He leaned over Blake, sitting on the sofa and watching Cold Case with Antonio, and planted a noisy kiss on her cheek.
She winced. “Can you get a refund or change the travel dates? I really don’t feel like traveling.”
“And even if she did, you’d need to buy three tickets, genius,” said Antonio. “At least one of her bodyguards has to go with her wherever she goes.”
“No you don’t.” Brett glared at Antonio. “I can keep Blake safe, myself.”
Antonio’s lips twitched, and then he broke into gut-busting laughter. Brett threw a punch at him, and Antonio swatted his fist away, all without ceasing to cackle.
For her part, Blake was disgusted. “Brett, I’m not going to Vegas. And I think you should grab your bags and go back to your family.”
“What, why?” Brett shifted his attention from Antonio to Blake. “I don’t understand. I’ve been taking care of business for you while you were sick, and—”
“Really? Edith and Charles handled most of my business. I see from the bags that your business is shopping lately?”
“I got a few new clothes. I’ve got to look good for you when I’m representing your business.”
“Yeah. I suppose the assistant to Blake Bertrand does need to be a sharp-dressed man, as ZZ Top would say.” Blake stared at Brett until he hung his head.
She had let Brett do a couple of light errands for her but she would have loved it if he could prove he was capable of more. She thought the shopping—with what looked like his own money—was a good effort to look the part.
“Okay, so I stretched the truth a little when I talked to a couple of people. But if I told them I’m just the guy you’re fucking, they wouldn’t take me seriously. It’s hard to do business that way.”
That’s actually a good point. Blake studied Brett’s face, wondering if her bodyguards were wrong about him and if she was wrong to let them influence her. “Why do you want to go to Vegas, anyway?”
“I still feel bad about how I acted while you were in Florida.” Brett laid a hand on Blake’s hair and stroked it as he continued, “I just want to take you away for the weekend and spoil you. We already spent several days apart. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”
“I guess not.” She smiled at him in spite of herself, and ignored the sudden sound of Antonio clearing his throat. “I tell you what—if there’s one more seat available on the departure and return flights, I’ll pay for it. I do need to bring one of the bodyguards, but after feeling like death for a week I’d really enjoy some spoiling.”
Brett leaned down and kissed her again, this time on the lips. He ran the tip of his tongue between her lips before he pulled away, grinning. “Thanks, babe. I’m going to show you a great time, I promise.”
He showed Antonio his middle finger as he stepped into Blake’s bedroom to phone the airline. Blake glanced an apology at Antonio, who shrugged and muttered, “Little punk.”
#
April 10
Las Vegas, Nevada
Brett had booked them into the five-star Red Rock Casino, Resort & Spa, located near the base of Red Rock Canyon. They had a spectacular view of the canyon, and after sleeping until noon they ordered room service and had a generous lunch of grilled T-bone steaks, baked potatoes, steamed asparagus, and buttered yeast rolls with a rich red wine to wash it all down. After lunch they soaked in a hot tub for a while, got massages, and finally went swimming in the pool before showering and getting dressed to go out for dinner.
Throughout it all, Suki watched over them, blank-faced and silent. Blake had a hunch that Suki would like to corner Brett alone somewhere and ask
him some pointed questions.
Much to Blake’s surprise, Brett dressed for dinner in a tuxedo. He looked so handsome and sexy that she couldn’t complain.
Brett could complain about Blake’s choice of clothing, however. She was slipping into a skirt and blouse when he looked her over and said, “I wish you’d wear something fancier. This is a special occasion. Our first weekend getaway together. Let’s make it something we’ll never forget.”
She fought the urge to sigh. He’s going to a lot of trouble to spoil me. If he wants me to dress more formal for dinner tonight, that’s the least I can do to thank him. “Any ideas?”
He considered the clothes she’d packed, and chose a mid-thigh-length white lace cutout dress, and a pair of white ballet flats. “This would look magnificent on you.”
“Okay.” She got changed while he watched, and felt herself blush when he approved the final result with an admiring whistle. He’s not a bad guy, really. Maybe I should introduce him to Mom and Uncle Thorne sometime soon…see what they think.
She expected a taxi to be waiting to take them into the city for dinner, but instead Brett ushered Blake into a waiting limousine. Suki arched an eyebrow at Blake as she climbed inside with them, but still said nothing.
Blake, by contrast, had plenty to say when the limo parked at the Little White Wedding Chapel. “This had better be a joke, Brett.”