by Mia Caldwell
“I would say I don’t understand what this means, but a lot of things are abundantly clear. I finally understood on an emotional level how my mom took my dad back after his indiscretions, and that it wasn’t just because she wanted to hold on to the lifestyle. She truly loved him, and though she always said it, I never got it viscerally until now.”
He turned fully toward her, opening his body language in preparation for what he knew was to come.
“I love you too, Mari. And yes, I still want to be with you.”
Mari practically flew toward him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she grabbed him in a hug.
He held her thin frame to him tightly, his body celebrating at holding her close again.
When they finally pulled away, she said, “Aren’t you afraid your dad will cut you off?”
He shook his head.
“Even if he did, I’m pretty much set. I mean, I’ve worked in finances practically all my adult life. I picked up a thing or two.”
Mari’s eyes didn’t leave his face, and they seemed larger than normal, shimmering with unshed tears.
“Will you come home with me tonight?”
She didn’t say it in any lewd way, but he grinned wickedly at her.
“Why, Mari, I’m exactly that kind of guy.”
He pulled her into a brief kiss.
“After tonight, though, as cozy and warm as your apartment is, I’m going back to the penthouse. It’s got quite a view and too many bedrooms for just me, so you’re welcome to come too. If you like it, maybe we can work something out.”
He winked at her.
“I really do love you, Jim,” she said far too seriously.
He held her face in his hands.
“I really do love you too, Maribel Gibson. Oh—remind me to tell you more about this dream I had.”
“The one where you were marrying someone who wasn’t Lucy?”
“How did you know I meant that one?”
“Just a guess. Especially since it’s the only one you ever mentioned.”
“Well, I told you the details were all fuzzy, but recently, the face of my dream bride became clear.”
Chapter 14
Maribel
Maribel knew her mouth was hanging open and didn’t care.
She looked around the suite, wondering how long it would take to actually visually take it all in.
She felt like she’d already spent a few minutes checking out just a quarter of Jim’s place.
The penthouse was easily larger than the home she’d grown up in, and the view from it took her breath away.
“This doesn’t even make sense,” she said, trying to process the striking evidence of his wealth before her.
The furniture, the flooring, the furnishings—everything was a testament to the handsome man’s fortune.
She felt like she should take off her shoes and leave them outside so they didn’t spoil the look of the place.
“How…?”
“Just over four thousand square feet. See, I told you—I need some company so it’s not such a waste.”
“How the heck did you stay in my place for days when you have all of this here? My god, my apartment must have felt like a bathroom to you. And just the toilet part.”
He chuckled.
“It’s easy once you’re there. Once I met you, I had a longing to be wherever you were. Home is where the heart is, right? Besides, I had the whole avoiding-the-public-and-the-press thing going on—well, so I thought. Speaking of which, I would have never pegged you for a sleazy reporter, Mari; you really surprised me there.”
She felt offended at first but realized that’s exactly the road she’d been about to embark.
“I never planned to be. I wanted to be more like...Erin Brockovich. Or Michael Moore. Investigative journalists with public health—physical and otherwise—in mind.”
“So how did you go from Erin Brockovich to TMZ?”
She shrugged.
“You don’t understand—I don’t fail anything. I’ve been on the honor roll my whole school life, never got anything less than a B, graduated high school salutatorian, graduated magna cum laude from college with a double major in Journalism and Communication Studies. I’m used to things going pretty smoothly, so when I got here and didn’t get the job that seemed promised to me, I panicked.”
“My god, you’re hard on yourself. And I thought my dad was bad. You didn’t even give yourself time…”
“But I have a five-year plan! And it includes winning a Pulitzer by the age of twenty-five, thank you very much.”
He chuckled again.
“Wow. You do dream big. Well, I hate to break it to you, but celebrity gossip won’t get you there.”
“I just thought it would get my foot in the door. I thought somehow it would buy me a way in, and soon, I’d be able to dictate my own stories and terms. The sooner I got hired, the sooner I could flex my article-writing muscles. I thought how I started wouldn’t matter so much—it was all about getting to a particular end.
“Anyway, the longer I stayed here, jobless, the more panicked I got as I realized what and who I was up against. Sure, I have some savings for living expenses, but as you know—well, you might not—it’s super expensive here, and I had sort of nightmarish visions of having to take up something—anything else—just to pay bills, spending valuable energy doing something I didn’t want to do. Even if gossip wasn’t exactly what I wanted to do, at least it was in the general vicinity of my intended job—unlike admin or something. I could at least tell people I work for so-and-so magazine or newspaper. All most people back home know is that I wanted to be a reporter—not specifically what kind—and I wanted to, you know, look like an instant success. Everyone expects it, including me.”
“Well, it looks to me like you were in such a hurry to get out, you didn’t give yourself time to figure out a structured path. Not to knock the entertainment industry, but you don’t have to wallow in that muck to get your name out there—it might even be detrimental if you want to be taken seriously. Believe me, I know—rushing into something just as a means to some end is not always the best idea. Essentially, by throwing me under the bus for your trashy exposé, it would have been like you committing to marrying Lucy; while some sort of immediate benefit might come of it, think of what it could prevent you from having instead. For example, you could be fulfilling some silly request for your boss and not have the time to pursue some other worthwhile story.”
He grabbed her hands.
“I waited for you, Mari. You can wait for the right opportunity. Like I said, I do have friends and friends of friends in high places. I can pull some strings, possibly even get you a job as a news assistant—a reporter in business news, perhaps. But eventually.”
He hesitated, and she wondered about the wary look in his eyes.
“Sounds to me like you could have built up a portfolio where you’re from—it seems you had plenty of material to work with there.”
“Top three racist states in the country? No doubt it’s fertile ground, but good luck getting anyone to pay attention. I might as well type water is wet. Maybe eventually, after establishing myself.”
“So you’re sure you want to stay here?”
She looked at him quizzically.
“Of course.”
“Great. I have a proposition for you. Listen—don’t get offended, but I’ve been doing some thinking and that led to a bit of digging, and I think you should get your master’s degree from Columbia’s School of Journalism. Depending on if you’re getting the M.S. or M.A., you’ll be done in nine or ten months, and it’s a hell of a thing to add to your resumé. Hell, it was founded by Joseph Pulitzer himself—it’s where they hand out the awards. You don’t even have to go full-time; you can attend part-time while working if you want. Either way, you’ll be rubbing shoulders with past, present, and future greats in the field. Maybe the real reason you were led here was to get you in that school. Heck, you live just, what, thi
rty minutes from it?”
“You’re saying, despite my plans, the actual reason I was drawn here was to run into some millionaire to encourage me to continue my schooling.”
“And pay for it, of course.”
It took Maribel a few seconds to form her words.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. It’s only about a hundred grand, and I’m sure we can find some way both you and my company can benefit from it. Now, from what I read, you’ll want to start with the Master of Science since it’s for aspiring journalists, possibly the concentration in Investigative Journalism.”
“Wow, you sure did your homework. You know, I had considered graduate school, but not everyone gets scholarships, and if I didn’t get a job that could cover it…”
“Well, that’s no longer a concern, is it? So let’s tuck that baggage away.”
She smiled, feeling as if a weight had been lifted.
“So you’ve figured things out for me—what about you?”
“I want to be wherever you are, Mari. If you agree with me about furthering your education, I’m happy to keep working at the company. I love it here in New York, and with you here, I have no reason to leave. I realized the problem wasn’t the job itself—it was that that’s all there was. Staying with the company and having an arranged wife did not appeal to me; it felt too much like getting to choose nothing important in my own life. But with you around, I no longer feel as if something’s missing. I have no problem showing up to work, doing whatever I have to do as long as I get to come home to you. You made me appreciate what I have, and I’m quite content with everything I’ve got going on now, everything I’ve been given. Your presence makes all the difference, Mari. Which brings me to my next proposition.”
It was her turn to look at him warily.
“Traveling around the world, perhaps getting experience interning at various international media places could make a hell of an application essay.”
She burst into laughter.
“I’m dead serious, Mari. Maybe not the world, and we don’t have to go for months—perhaps just one month—but the application deadline for Columbia is December 15th. We’ll, of course, get it in long before then.”
He grabbed her hands again.
“I’ve been over-prepared for something I wasn’t sure I wanted, and you’ve been underprepared for something you’re sure you want. We both need to get out of our comfort zones, look at things from another angle. Reward ourselves for being so good so far about whatever—however you want to look at it. Just come away with me, Mari; I want to spend some time truly away from everything with you. ”
She didn’t have to think about it for long—no money or job woes for a month? Actually taking a vacation? Count her in!
She nodded with an inviting smile.
He smiled back then bent to kiss her, sending warmth traveling through her core as he pulled her close.
“I’ll even make sure you keep your little apartment. The whole time we’re gone, the whole time we’re back…however long you want. Until you’re sure of me.”
She was pretty sure of him now, but she didn’t bother to say it.
“You better be prepared, Jim. People are going to say some weird things now that you’re with me.”
He shrugged. “It’s not like I only dated white girls before.”
“Yeah, but am I just some lay? Or am I the girl you’d rather be with than Lucy? Once people realize you’re serious…”
“Fuck ‘em. I really don’t want you to worry about any of that stuff, Mari; I won’t let anyone bother you or harass us. Don’t think I won’t dip into my funds to protect you by any means necessary. Now what about your family? How do you think they’ll respond to some white guy visiting on holidays?”
“They won’t care. My best friend Annie will be stoked because she’s all for love however it comes. My parents…well, they might think I took leaving them behind to the extreme.”
“We can’t let them think that. Let’s fly them here for Christmas!”
“They’d love that, I think.”
“Great. But first things first—you, me, Europe.”
Epilogue
Maribel had traveled with Jim all over—from Spain to Prague.
She had knocked off a few places on her bucket list just like that: Italy, Greece, and France among them.
Jim even surprised her with places she never imagined she’d want to go, like Dubai.
With so many places to see, so many types of food to try, so many cultures to taste, one month away from the U.S. was not nearly enough time, and they were soon reentering Jim’s ridiculously huge penthouse, a bellhop dragging their luggage in behind them.
“It feels weird to be back, doesn’t it?” Jim said. “And have to do mundane things, like go through mail? To be honest, I’m curious to see if you’ve gotten a response yet.”
“From Columbia? So quickly, you think? The deadline hasn’t even arrived!”
“Well, I want to see and I’m glad you agreed forwarding your mail here was a good idea.”
Jim retrieved a stack and they went through the envelopes.
Nothing.
“Okay. So I was a bit over-excited. Damn it—I was hoping to do this after your acceptance arrived, but I just can’t wait anymore.”
Maribel’s heart seized.
“What are talking about, Jim?”
“Give me a sec.”
He headed back toward his bedroom then returned with his hands behind his back, his green eyes twinkling.
“Mari, I think you might just be the woman of my dreams,” he said.
“Say what, now?”
“That dream the night before the whole Lucy debacle—I’ve told you about it before—I’m pretty sure it was you, Mari, that you’re literally the woman from my dream.”
“But you hadn’t even met me yet.”
“That’s just it—I was being warned, I think. I was being fed a clue. Either way, I did the right thing and waited for you.”
He dropped to his knees.
“I feel like we went on a honeymoon without the wedding, and I’d like to correct that. You’re the woman I want to marry, Mari.” He made a slight face at the repeated syllables.
Then he pulled out a ring box, kissing her hand before popping it open and holding up the almost-blinding diamond to her.
“Maribel Ann Gibson, will you marry me?”
Maribel had been rendered silent by her tightened throat, so all she could do was nod as tears blurred her vision.
He slipped the ring on her then rose, wrapping her tightly in his strong arms, gripping her against his warm, hard chest.
“I love you so much, Mari. I can’t wait to have you walk up the aisle toward me, then spend my life with you. We’ll figure all the wedding details later…although I’m thinking maybe we can have a small wedding around Christmas—when your parents are here. That’s less than a month away, though, so maybe we should wait a bit, and after you get your acceptance letter, throw a summer wedding. Either way, I prefer small but, of course, it’s up to you. In the meantime, I guess you get to start at that internship you were offered…”
“Shut up, Jim,” Maribel said affectionately, a tear making its way down her face, but she was smiling brightly at him.
Then she brought their faces together and kissed him long and hard.
* * *
“That’s frickin’ hilarious. I can’t believe she’s your stepmother now,” Mari said as they lay naked on his king-sized bed.
Jim had finally caught up on all his emails and broke the news as soon as he saw the notice.
“Apparently, that was the best way to spin it according to PR. Paradoxical, but I guess with the threat of them having their ‘relations’ coming out, they turned it into this great love story—about how Lucy had settled for me while pining for my dad, and how my dad was trying to do the right thing by me, sacrificing his own desires blah blah blah. I can see why they pay Madison the
big bucks. Even I was fanning my face, my heart fluttering, once I read the bulletin.”
She shoved him lightly.
“But seriously, it’s no big deal—business as usual. I’m obviously doing my own thing with you, and no one really blinks at young women marrying men twenty years their senior. Plus, we’re talking about a crowd that’s seen a widow marrying her dead husband’s brother, even steps getting together. Some people just like to keep it all in the family.”
“Speaking of family, when do I get to meet Judy?”
“Whenever you want. Possibly tomorrow, when this vacation is officially over.”
“I’m so glad your dad wasn’t a total dick about this whole thing; I’m glad he didn’t banish you.”
“And mess with that wonderful tale they spun? My banishment would only lead to more scrutiny. This way, with you and me together, it works even better for the narrative they went with. It’s clear Lucy and I were never in love, and I’m sure once everyone sees me with you, they’ll get why I couldn’t settle.”
“Either way, he had threatened to harm you.”
Jim quickly leaned up one elbow, and she was momentarily distracted by his bulging bicep.
“In what way? And when was this?”
“Somehow he got my number and he called me the day you found those letters and took off. I didn’t have time to entertain him since I was off to find you, but he ‘suggested’ I encourage you to do the right thing then leave you alone. ‘How kind of you to entertain my son despite his disability,’ he said, and I asked him what he meant. Then he said, ‘Always needs crutches, that one.’” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, once he stated his case and started to go on and on as you tend to do sometimes, I just hung up on him.”
Jim’s eyebrows raised, and laughter slowly took over him.
“Nice,” he said when he caught his breath. “I ended up doing the same thing when he called me, which was probably right after he called you. He did sound a bit more desperate now that I think about it. Anyway, you’re brave for ignoring him like that. And you have nothing to worry about—he’s mostly bark—no bite—so I wouldn’t be concerned about any lasting consequences. Maybe for me since Lucy will probably get half his estate now instead, but either way, the most she ends up with is half—Judy would get the other half, of course.”