Forever Your Concierge

by Jessica Ingro

"Does this mean you don't want to marry me tomorrow?" I voiced my greatest fear at Travis finding out about Ashton.

  He sighed and looked down at his feet, pinching the bridge of his nose like he always did whenever he was frustrated. He looked up suddenly and I braced for what he would say next. "I'm still going to marry you tomorrow, Maya. Just because I'm so mad right now that I could seriously spit nails, doesn't mean I don't love you. One of the things I love most about you is your independent streak, but the days of you keeping stuff from me need to end. You have to trust me to take care of you. But most importantly, you need to trust me with everything about you—the good, the bad and the ugly. I'll always handle you with care. You just need to give me the chance to do it."

  "I'm sorry," I choked out and a fresh stream of tears fell down my face. "I don't like to think about Ashton or what happened back then. It says nothing about you that I hid it."

  "It says everything about me. About us. I thought we didn't have any secrets." He sighed again and it sounded weary. "Look. I don't know what happened between you two other than what came out here tonight. The fact that he comes across as a complete douche tells me it wasn't good. I won't push the issue, but I will say I wish you would trust me to hear it. If you're legally bound to keep it quiet, you know I would never share that information."

  "I know that. Maybe someday," I conceded.

  "Fair enough. Now come here and kiss me before your mother drags you away and gives you the third degree about what just happened," he semi-joked. Leave it to Travis to just let it go and not hold a grudge. I wasn't sure how I ever got so lucky.

  I walked into his open arms, but instead of kissing him I rested my head on his chest and held him tightly. His heart beat steady and strong beneath my ear. Those were Travis' best qualities—steady and strong.

  "Thank you for forgiving me," I murmured into his shirt.

  "I love you."

  "I love you too."

  After kissing me tenderly, Travis finally left me in the coat closet to compose myself and panic set in. I really made a mess of things, and I had a feeling the repercussions weren't done coming.

  * * *

  "Spill the beans sister," Elizabeth demanded as we stood in my suite later that night.

  I had been able to successfully put my nosy mother off, telling her it was all a misunderstanding. I could tell she didn't believe me, but that was the least of my problems.

  Barb was off with Kayla, trying to calm her down. When I had tried to talk to Kayla after the altercation, Barb assured me through a crack in the door that even though Kayla was hurt and angry with how I handled the situation, she was still going to be in the wedding tomorrow. That was something I supposed.

  Ashton was on his way back to the city, probably laughing the whole way about the fact that my sister was still with him, and I ended up looking like the jerk instead of him. Why couldn't he just slink away like I wanted? Oh that's right because the bad guy never dies.

  Travis was with his best man and Elizabeth's husband, Grant Morgan. Grant swore to me that he would keep an eye on Travis. I didn't know how he would react to the scene I caused earlier once I was no longer with him. I was afraid he would either drink too much or that he would ultimately come to his senses and realize I was seriously damaged goods that he didn't want to waste his time on.

  Grant was the one person I trusted to be with Travis tonight. Him and I had forged a bond during his early relationship dramas with Elizabeth. I loved him like an older brother, and I knew he approved of Travis’ and my relationship. He wouldn't want to see either of us suffer without the other.

  "I don't know where to start," I admitted as I heaved myself on the couch in the sitting area.

  "How about at the beginning?" She suggested, settling next to me.

  "Remember when I was in the play Chicago?" She nodded so I continued, "Ashton was the director. I..." I swallowed the bile rising in my throat at the admission that was about to come. "I slept with him to get the part. I thought that if I could just get into the show, people would see I really did have the talent."

  "Oh sweetie," she whispered.

  I took in a labored breath and continued, "He took a liking to me. We started going at it everywhere—my dressing room, his house, wherever. I really thought he liked me. The things he said when we were alone." I shook my head and let out a mirthless laugh. "I was so stupid. I even moved in with him. He was just using me. I finally realized it when he took up with my understudy, Stephanie. I caught her riding him in our bed. I was so humiliated. Instead of stopping, he just looked at me with cold eyes and told me he was replacing me with her. That's why I never went back to the show. That's why I quit acting."

  Tears began to fall in earnest when Elizabeth scooted across the seat and wrapped her arms around me. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  Wasn't that just the million dollar question tonight?

  "I couldn't. I signed papers that I would never talk about what happened during our relationship."

  "That seems awfully extreme for a case of him sleeping with you to get the part and then dumping you. I mean sure it could ruin his reputation if that got out, especially if there were others, but he could just deny it."

  "There's more to it than that, but I really can't say. I've already said too much. If I say any more and he ever found out." I shuddered at the thought. Ashton was not a nice person, and he would stop at nothing to make my life a living hell if I ever said anything.

  "Jesus. How bad are we talking?"

  "Bad enough that I have close to a million dollars sitting in an overseas account accruing interest daily. I haven't touched it. Not once. I wasn't lying all those times I assured you I had money in the bank if you needed it." I failed to mention that I considered it blood money. That memory was a little too much for me to relive right then or ever really. Especially not without a bottle of tequila on standby.

  "Holy fucking shit!" She yelled. "What the fuck happened?"

  "I can't say."

  "Does Travis know?"

  I shook my head, and she gave me a disapproving look. "That isn't any way to start a marriage, Maya. With secrets."

  "Don't talk to me about secrets! You hid the fact that you were pregnant with Vivi from Grant." I immediately regretted throwing that in her face when her bottom lip trembled.

  Elizabeth had hid her pregnancy from Grant after a misunderstanding caused him to accuse her of being a money hungry bitch. She was afraid that he would think she got pregnant on purpose. When Grant finally found out, he immediately stepped into the role of father and forgave her without question. Even though things worked out for them, she was still ashamed of her behavior. I knew it was a sore spot and I exploited it. I wasn't proud of my behavior.

  "You're right. I did. And I regret it every day. Every time I see him with her. I'd go back and change it if I could. He missed out on a lot because I was stupid. And that's why I know that what I'm saying is true. And you do too. Otherwise you wouldn't be stooping so low right now."

  "I'm sorry. I don't know why I get so defensive all the time. I know what you're saying is right. I just can't talk about it. It was bad, E. So bad that my soul is permanently scarred with the memory. I don't want Travis to know about that part of me. He won't like it and I couldn't stand him not looking at me with love in his eyes."

  "How would he look at you?"

  "With disgust."

  "That can't be true, sweetie. When you love someone, you love everything about them. Even when it's bad."

  I shook my head and ignored her words. I knew in my heart this would be a game changer. I wasn't taking my chances.

  "You need to think long and hard about what you're doing, shutting him out. He's going to be your husband. He deserves better than that and so do you. I have to get going. My mom is watching Vivi in our room and is probably wondering where I am. Are you going to be okay?"

  "Yeah." I glanced at the clock and saw it was close to midnight. I was in for a night of tossing an
d turning, which wasn't a good thing the night before your wedding.

  "I love you and I'll see you in the morning," Elizabeth said at the door. "Please think about what I said."

  "I will. Kiss my goddaughter for me."

  When the door shut behind E, the silence was deafening. I hoped it wasn't a sign of what was to come.

  Chapter Four

  The waves lapping against the beach lulled me into a state of semi-consciousness. I knew that if I opened my eyes, I'd be looking out onto clear blue waters as far as the eye could see. Birds chirped as they dove in and out of the dense outline of trees surrounding the edge of the island and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The rays beating down on my body only served to further relax me. I was like a hot, limp noodle lying on the lounge chair by the ocean.

  Travis' surprise honeymoon locale was Necker Island—located in the British Virgin Islands—the island retreat of Sir Richard Branson.

  We weren't isolated to one of the six bali houses on the island. We weren't even isolated to the main house. No, my over the top man booked the entire island to ensure our privacy. Other than the attendants there to serve us, there wasn't a soul around for miles and miles. The whole place was magical and a welcome reprieve from New York and all its craziness. Two weeks here wasn't going to be long enough, that was for sure. I liked being together in our little cocoon with no one to intrude. No work nonsense. No Ashton Moore looking to use and abuse my sister. No sister refusing to speak to me. No mother to lecture me about fighting with my sister.

  When I wasn't making love to my husband—I loved calling him that—I spent my time daydreaming about the amazing wedding we had just over one short week ago. It was the best wedding I had been to in years, and I wasn't just saying that because I was partial. I smiled every time I thought about it, which meant I had been perpetually walking around the island with a goofy grin on my face.

  The weather had been picture perfect. The food was scrumptious, the top shelf booze flowed freely and the whole evening was filled with laughing and dancing. Everyone had a genuinely good time and I couldn't have been more pleased with the way it turned out. It was my fairytale come to life, and I was so very grateful to have been able to experience what I considered my dream wedding. Not every girl was so lucky.

  A dreamy sigh left my lips as I remembered how wonderful it felt to be wrapped up in Travis' arms as we circled the dance floor. How fun it was when we shoved a piece of the ten-layer chocolate cake in each other's faces. How we laughed every time someone clinked their silverware on their glass as a signal that we should kiss. Most of all, I loved remembering all the little alone moments we managed to find throughout the night, when we would show our love and appreciation for each other without words.

  The only thing about that night I wish I could change was the fact that Kayla wouldn't speak to me—like at all. She smiled and played the dutiful sister, but the closeness that we usually shared wasn't there. It caused a pang in my heart every time I remembered how cold and aloof she had been whenever she didn't need to put her game face on. I understood why she had been upset at the way I handled the situation with Ashton, but I only had her best interest at heart. The last thing I wanted for my little sister was for her to be left a broken shell of a woman, one who didn't trust anyone and felt disgusted with herself more often than not.

  Been there, done that, got this lousy shirt to prove it.

  The sound of feet padding on the wooden boardwalk behind the lounge chairs had me cracking an eye open and watching as my husband came towards me wearing blue and white checkered swim trunks, sunglasses and nothing else. He was mouthwateringly delicious. The way his suntan enhanced the lean cut of his muscles. The way his washboard abs bunched and moved with each step he took. Steps that were made by powerful, runner's legs.

  Some days it was hard for me to believe that he was mine. I wanted to pinch myself to ensure that all this was real. One thing I knew, from past experience, was that if something seemed too good to be true, it probably was. And Travis was the best thing that had ever happened to me. It had to go wrong somewhere... didn't it? I decided to push that thought aside. It was far too negative a thought to be having on our honeymoon.

  "You're going to burn, wife," Travis warned me in a low, raspy voice, after kissing my shoulder and settling into the lounge chair next to mine.

  "Maybe you should put more sunscreen on me then, husband," I suggested with a wink.

  He gave me a lascivious grin. "Mmm... It has been an hour or so since the last time I had my hands on you," he noted and my blood instantly heated another ten degrees. It certainly was warm out here and the more I imagined Travis with his hands on me, the hotter it felt. Especially with the way his shaded eyes stayed locked on my face, silently communicating he was thinking the same thing.

  "Keep it in your pants, Hamilton," I joked with him, my voice sounding a little breathless.

  "Only if you keep your hands in my pants, Hamilton."

  "I sure do like the sound of that," I said referring to both my new last name and the idea of my hand in Travis' pants. It was a toss-up really as to which I liked better, although a cursory glance at his now visibly tighter swim trunks made me go with the latter.

  "Me too." He grinned and laid back on the lounger looking peaceful and content as he soaked in the sun's rays. I loved that I could have that effect on him. I enjoyed pleasing Travis in any way that I could. My love for him ran deeper than I thought possible.

  My phone pinged with a message, so I picked it up and swiped the screen. Upon reading the text, I groaned out loud and slammed the phone against my leg in frustration.

  "What is it?" Travis turned his head my way, concern lacing his voice.

  "Fiona Mortenson," I said the name as if it tasted foul, which it sort of did. Fiona was an older, rich, entitled snob that I could stand not to have as a client. She spent every single day of her sixty plus years on this earth getting what she wanted, when she wanted it. It took everything I had not to throw something at her or just storm out of her house and never look back.

  "What does that old bag want?" I giggled at his apt description of her. After forwarding the message to Elizabeth, I set my phone down and chose to ignore the text. "She's in Abu Dhabi and wants me to find her a camel ride."

  "Camel ride? Really? Why doesn't she ask the concierge at the resort she's staying at?"

  "Ever the level headed thinker you are, husband. Too bad she is not. First of all, she knows I'm on vacation and should go to E. Second of all, even if I wasn't, I would tell her to find someone local to organize the outing for her. What sane person thinks that is an acceptable task to ask of someone in the United States, not Abu Dhabi? I swear she gets my blood pressure rising without even really trying." I rubbed at my chest where I could feel a slight pressure building. Damn Fiona and her damn camel ride requests. Ugh, and damn my penchant to getting worked up unnecessarily.

  "I hope you're going to ignore her."

  "Already done." I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths. Travis reached over and his hand enveloped mine. We laid in the sun, holding hands for a long while. It was sickeningly sweet and I loved every second of it.

  My phone pinged again shaking me from my little paradise. Against my better judgment I lifted the offending device to see who it was. As soon as I read the message, I was glad I did. I squealed and scrambled upright in my seat. "The photographer just tagged me on Facebook." I quickly navigated to the app and clicked on the pictures, scrolling through each one multiple times before finally handing it over to Travis.

  I moved to Travis' lounger and rested my head on his shoulder as he thumbed through the images. "This one's my favorite." I pointed to the picture of our feet—Travis' pants rolled up and me holding my dress up—as we walked across a wooden bridge hand in hand.

  "It's great," he concurred. "I like how Susan took shots that you don't usually see. She has quite an eye. I'm glad we went with her. This one here is my favorite." He stopped
at a picture of the two of us. My back was to the camera, the deep v in the lace of my dress showing the bare skin on my back. Travis stood next to me, also facing away from the camera, his hand resting just above my ass as he tenderly kissed me.

  "Yeah," I whispered with emotion clogging my throat. It was a really stunning picture that showcased how in love we were. "Wait until you see the next one."

  We both laughed when he flipped to the next picture. In the background, we were kissing, while in the foreground my four year old niece, Lacey, and Elizabeth's two year old daughter, Vivi, dressed in their matching white lace dresses with green sashes, had their heads in their hands like they couldn't believe we were making out. It was adorable and hysterical at the same time.

  "That was a good one."

  "Yeah, but this one is about to become my profile pic," I stated as he flipped to a picture of us holding out our ring fingers like we were flipping someone off. Travis had a mafia gangster looking face going on, while I wore a sassy little pout on mine. It was a kick ass picture for sure.

  "I'm glad Matt and Callie were able to make it," I said as we flipped through more shots of the wedding. Matt was an old friend from NYU, who had always been in love with Elizabeth. Or at least he was until finding Callie. I had truly thought he and Elizabeth belonged together, but that she was just too afraid to look past his friends with benefits status. I even tried to push them together a bit. That was until I saw her with Grant. It was then I knew Elizabeth never loved Matt as anything more than a friend.

  "She's a pretty girl. Smart too. A good replacement for Elizabeth," Travis noted.

  "Replacement?" I asked, wondering why he used that odd choice of words.

  He gave me a disbelieving look. "Didn't you notice that she looks a lot like Lizzie?"

  "Huh... I guess I didn't, but now that you say something I'd have to agree." Callie was a pretty blonde with brown eyes. I could see where someone might think that she and Elizabeth looked similar, but she was girl next door cute, not bombshell beautiful like Elizabeth.