“It’s so much more. You know it . . . I know it.”
She leaned into his palm and he kissed her. Gabi softened, parted her lips, and let him pull her closer.
He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. “I don’t deserve you.”
Gabi tugged on his hand. “C’mon. I have more to show you.”
The master suite was complete. Bedside tables, a plush chaise for two by the fireplace. Potted plants filled empty space. Gabi pulled him into several rooms, all of them completely furnished. She muttered about art for the walls, suggested a trip to Italy to find the right pieces. The last stop, however, was the best. The smell of fresh paint told him more had been done to the last room than the others.
A fresh white coat of paint wrapped around the wainscoting with a light blue topping. The ceiling had fluffy clouds. A crib sat center with a dangling moon and star mobile just waiting for tiny, eager eyes. A changing table, a dresser, and a gliding chair with a large stuffed bear sat to the side.
Not only had Gabi embraced the idea of Hayden being a part of their life . . . she’d taken it to a very real level.
“Say something,” she told him.
“I don’t know what to say.”
She came up from behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Every child should reach for the sky.”
He glanced up, felt emotion threatening his dry eyes. “This morning,” he started. “This house was real estate. Tonight it’s a home.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Meg sat at her computer and waited for the Internet video feed to go through.
Sam answered with a practiced smile. “Hello, Meg.”
There was a sense of relief when Meg noticed a lack of circles under her friend’s eyes. “You look good.”
“We’re doing all right.”
They talked briefly about the kids, about some of the aftermath of Jordan’s passing. News of Meg’s pregnancy had spread quickly. “I’m happy for you both.”
“You should see my mother-in-law . . . she’s going crazy already.”
Sam pulled at her mop of red hair and flicked something on her right. “So what’s this about a potential client?”
It was good getting back into business and away from personal drama. “She’s thirty-four, owns a big chunk of Manhattan, and wants to piss off her ex with a hot younger man.”
Sam’s smile grew into a full-blown laugh. They exchanged information, made notes, and a plan to help “rich in the city” find a spouse.
“This is exactly what I need right now,” Sam said when they finished. “A challenge.”
“I thought so, too.” Meg leaned back in her chair. “Do you have another minute?”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“It’s about Hunter.”
Sam groaned. “I feel like I dropped the ball on that one.”
“I saw the notes in the file. It didn’t sound like you approved him as a client at all.”
“I didn’t. I was wrapped up when he came to us, told Gabi to take the interview and make a final decision. I never thought she’d approve him, let alone marry the man.”
That’s what Meg thought. “If it’s any consolation, I haven’t seen Gabi this happy since I met her.”
Sam looked at her through squinted eyes. “Really?”
Meg nodded. “The man has an edge, but I like him. Even Val is coming around.”
“Blake said he’s unpredictable and savage when it comes to getting what he wants.”
“Criminal?”
“I didn’t find anything to put him behind bars.”
“He’s too rich to leave a trace,” Meg mused.
“True. He does seem to have Gabi’s safety at heart. Neil has set up quite the system at their new place, two personal bodyguards.”
“What?” Bodyguards? This was news.
Sam snapped her lips shut. “I thought you knew.”
“Knew what? Why does Gabi need a bodyguard?”
Sam placed both hands in the air. “I hate gossip.”
“Well you can’t stop now.” Meg sat forward, watched for any telling signs on Sam’s face.
“Apparently her late husband set up two very large accounts in the name of Mrs. Gabriella Picano. One was actively being used, the other mildly dormant. I’m not sure how she found out about them, but she changed the passwords and locked out whoever was using them. According to Neil, Hunter thinks she’s painted a target on her back. And before you ask, no, there hasn’t been a threat.”
“Why would Alonzo do that?”
“Who knows? Maybe he thought if there was big money in her name, she was a part of the smuggling . . . keep her silent if he’d survived.”
“So who is behind the money going in and out?”
“No idea. Neil told us that Hunter has investigators on it.”
New worry for her sister-in-law surfaced. “If it’s drug money, she could be set up, end up in jail.”
“Someone would have to know about it and want to hold that over her.”
“Blackmail.”
The two of them were lost in their own thoughts for a minute . . . then caught each other’s eyes through the monitor.
“Blackmail her into let’s say . . . marriage?”
“You don’t think—” Sam cut her own words off. “Oh, no.”
Meg hated where her thoughts went. “It makes sense. Damn it. I really want to like the man.”
Sam was twisting her hair now. “But why? What was the big friggin’ hurry for Hunter to marry? Why would he blackmail a stranger into marriage in the first place?”
“The baby. Which is the most unselfish thing I’ve heard of.”
It was Sam’s turn to stare. “Baby? What baby?”
Shit, the cat was out of the crib and crawling up the walls now.
Shopping . . . nothing like a little retail therapy to pass the time. Gabi walked through the department store, felt the eyes of Solomon on her back. He kept his distance but was always close by. She probably wouldn’t notice if she were shopping with a friend, but Gwen was watching over her sick toddler and Judy was at work. Bugging Sam wasn’t an option.
She’d always found her brother difficult to buy for, but with a baby on the way, the daddy door was open and filling her head with ideas for Christmas gifts.
Unable to stop herself, Gabi wandered into the baby department and found a tiny pair of socks and a plush rattle for her unborn niece or nephew. Her gaze traveled to a pair of denim overalls. She turned away. Clothes shopping for Hayden would have to wait. A teddy bear, however, was in order.
She shifted the bags in her hands as she exited the store in search of a tie with baby bottles or some such nonsense on it.
Gabi glanced over her shoulder, saw Solomon close by. When she turned around, she stopped short.
Dark eyes bored into her as the woman slowly approached. Sheila Watson was much more beautiful in person than in her pictures. A little shorter than Gabi, more curves, but nothing remotely close to overweight.
The other woman let her eyes draw a slow line up and down Gabi’s frame. Instead of shying away, she held her ground and waited to see what the other woman was going to do.
Gabi skirted her eyes around Sheila and landed on the chubby cheeks and sleeping frame tucked into a stroller. Gabi’s breath caught in her throat, and her hands ached to touch Hunter’s nephew. Sheila’s words snapped Gabi’s attention back to the woman. “You know who I am?”
Gabi kept silent and waited.
“He promised to marry me, you know.”
“Is that right?”
Sheila lifted her chin, or maybe it was her nose. “He’ll use you, like he did me . . . then throw you away.”
That was the original plan.
“My question is . . . are you as cold as he is?”
Gabi attempted to keep all emotion from her face and forced her eyes from returning to the baby.
Sheila’s jaw tightened. “He owes me. He owes our son.
” The anger in Sheila’s eyes dimmed quicker than a light switch. “If you have one decent bone in your body, you’ll convince him to take care of his son.”
A thousand different retorts died on Gabi’s lips. She bit her lip. Anything she said could tip the woman off to Hunter’s intentions.
Gabi noted Sheila’s hand gripping the strap of her purse, the baby at her side all but forgotten as the other woman stepped toward her. Shoppers funneled around them, annoyed with their stationary presence in the middle of the mall.
Sheila’s hard stare returned and she inched away from Hayden, moved closer to Gabi.
Too close.
“You look like the perfect cold bitch to his bastard.”
There it was . . . the unstable part that Hunter talked about.
Gabi pivoted but didn’t turn her back on the other woman. “If you’ll excuse me.”
The welcome voice of Solomon interrupted them. “Mrs. Blackwell?”
Sheila placed a smile on her face that hadn’t been there before. “Already have a toy?”
Gabi moved to Solomon’s side. “I’m ready to leave.”
He placed himself between the two women and nudged her toward the door.
“We’re not done,” Sheila called after her.
Gabi didn’t respond but felt the woman’s anger as they walked away.
“Who was that?” Solomon asked as they walked into the parking lot.
“Someone who can’t be trusted. If she approaches me again, please step in.”
He ran his hands through his hair, looked behind them, and walked faster.
Once they were in the car, Gabi sucked in a deep breath. “Take me to Hunter’s office.”
“You got it, Mrs. B.”
Half a mile away from the mall, Solomon said, “I should have jumped in sooner. I failed you.”
“She could have been a friend. I doubt many assailants are pushing around babies. You had no way of knowing.”
“It won’t happen again.”
Gabi tried to put the man at ease. “Don’t worry about it.”
Tiffany ushered Gabi into Hunter’s office without an announcement. Solomon stayed behind by Tiffany’s desk.
Hunter’s face lit up when she walked into the office. He kept the phone to his ear but waved her over to his side. “That’s right. I really don’t care how you deal with it, just deal.”
Hunter stood as she approached and wedged herself between his desk and his chair. His hand found her waist and squeezed.
“I don’t have time right now,” Hunter said to whomever he was talking to. “Something important just showed up on my desk.”
Gabi felt the tension placed by Sheila drift away.
“Right . . . do it.” Hunter reached around her and hung up the phone before nuzzling her neck. “If it isn’t Mrs. Claus. What did I do right to have you visiting me here?”
Gabi leaned her head back, liked the feel of his lips on her neck . . . distracting as it was. “It’s not for pleasure, I’m sorry to say.”
He stopped kissing her neck and looked into her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Was she so transparent?
“I met Sheila.”
The hand holding her waist tightened, his face darkened. “When? Where?”
“The mall, thirty minutes ago.”
Hunter set her up on his desk and gripped her knees as she told him about the encounter. “Where the hell was Solomon?”
“Right there. I didn’t call out to him . . . he had no way of knowing she was a threat.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
“Yes it is. Having a bodyguard glued to my side is unnecessary and uncomfortable. She was sizing me up, not assaulting me.”
“Once we have Hayden, that might change.”
The memory of Hayden’s tiny face, pouty lips parted in his sleep, placed a soft smile on her face. “I saw him.”
Hunter paused. “Hayden?”
She nodded. “He’s beautiful, Hunter. He was sleeping in the stroller. I didn’t get more than a glimpse before Sheila started in on the ugly.”
“It’s the ugly I’m worried about,” Hunter said.
Gabi agreed. “Which is why we need to be slow and methodical about this. The woman wasn’t right. Pulling Hayden away if she can still manage partial custody would be tragic.”
“She isn’t expecting me to petition for custody. She’s expecting a payoff.”
“Makes me wonder what kind of crazy is going to happen when Hayden is removed as a bargaining chip.”
“The kind of crazy that requires a bodyguard . . . or two . . . or three.” He looked worried.
The phone on his desk buzzed.
He dropped his hand on the intercom. “Yes, Tiffany.”
“Sorry to interrupt, but there’s an Officer Delgado on the phone.”
“Did he say what this was regarding?”
“Something about a missing person report.”
Gabi shifted as Hunter brought the call to the speaker on his phone. “This is Hunter Blackwell.”
“Mr. Blackwell . . . thank you for taking a minute to talk to me.”
Hunter shrugged and looked at her. “I find when the police call, not talking to them isn’t an option.”
Delgado offered a short laugh. “True. I’m an investigator with LAPD. We had a missing persons report filed this afternoon on an electrician that was at your residence yesterday and wanted to ask you a few questions.”
Gabi sat taller. “Who?” she asked.
“I’m sorry?”
“My wife coordinated the staff at the house yesterday. She’s here in my office with me now and I have you on speaker.”
“OK . . . good. Mrs. Blackwell?”
“This is her . . . who is missing?”
“Name is Mark Collins.”
The name sounded familiar. “There were over thirty people at the house yesterday, officer . . . you’ll have to forgive me.”
“He wired your televisions—”
“Oh, yes! Right. Nice boy . . . he’s missing?”
“He phoned in to his employer that he’d completed your job and was returning the work truck but never showed up.”
“I’m not sure how I can help. He left in the rush with many others. I couldn’t even tell you exactly what time.”
“Anything you can tell us will help. I’d like the names of those at your house yesterday, too.”
Gabi didn’t know where to begin.
Hunter laid a hand on her thigh. “We will come up with a list and get back to you.”
“Time is our enemy, Mr. Blackwell.”
“My decorator will have a list of the kids, and the name of the tree lot . . . the men who set up the lights outside. All those numbers are at home, Officer.”
“As soon as you can get them, Mrs. Blackwell . . . the better.”
“Of course.”
Hunter took Delgado’s number and hung up.
“What do you think that’s all about?” Gabi asked.
“Couldn’t tell you. What do you remember about him?”
“Kid . . . twenty-three, maybe. Some of the college girls were flirting with him. Felicia kept snapping her fingers, telling them to get on with their work and hook up later.” She felt a little smile. “You think that’s what he did? Skipped out on work, hooked up with someone?”
“Possible. What do you want me to do?”
She waved him off, stepped around his desk, and grabbed her purse. “Nothing. I’ll gather the numbers and call Officer Delgado back.”
“I can be home in twenty minutes if you need me.”
She paused at the door with a smile.
Andrew met her at the house, phone numbers in hand. Hunter was, above all things, efficient. Once she contacted Delgado and gave him the numbers he needed, she glanced at the other messages Andrew had taken for her for the day.
Meg called. Call her back.
Meg picked up on the second ring. “Hey, Mama,” Gabi teased.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Hunter clicked out of the video conference call with a huge sigh of relief. Travis had found the man embezzling his funds and was working with a team of undercover detectives to catch the man in the act. Hunter was about to give in and ask his wife for her savant help on his accounts, see if Gabi could narrow down the location of the missing funds tighter than his team had managed. Looked like now all he had to do was deliver the good news.
He was turning off his computer when Tiffany stacked yet one more unexpected interruption in his day, fifteen minutes before she was due to leave the office. “Sorry for—”
“Save it.”
Tiffany stepped to a paneled wall and opened a hidden door that housed a flat-screen television. “PR called, asked what you wanted to do about this.”
Hunter stood and waited for Tiffany to turn on the set and bring up the recorded feed someone on their team had captured.
The image of Gabi standing beside Sheila in what looked like a sworn enemy stance filled the top right of the screen. The reporter captioned the image with one statement. “The mistress and wife meet.”
The media had been a thorn for years. Now Gabi was feeling their claws.
The reporter went on . . . “Join us at seven for the exclusive interview with the day care worker who claims to be caring for Hunter Blackwell’s illegitimate son. Mr. Blackwell recently and quite unexpectedly married a Florida socialite . . .” The reporter continued to spew his tease for the evening segment.
Tiffany clicked off the set and waited.
“I need Ben Lipton on the phone. Tell PR no comment until I say otherwise.”
Tiffany hesitated, then put her feet in motion.
By the time he was off the phone with his private lawyer, Remington had left a message on his cell and his secretary in the New York office asked for his instructions.
On his way home, he stopped by the florist.
Gabi met him at the door with a smirk. “Flowers? How cliché.”
“You saw the news.”
She took the red and white roses from his hands and led a path to the kitchen. “Everyone saw the news. The phone hasn’t stopped ringing since I returned from your office.”
Treasured by Thursday (Weekday Brides Series Book 7) Page 23