Scent of Desire : A Parisian Exotica: An Ultra Luxury Billionaire Romance

by Amanda Horton

  Hunter looked frozen.

  "Maybe this is all there is?" She muttered weakly. "It's just a tabloid. People don't usually believe stories of this kind."

  “Normally I wouldn’t care. But there’s no way of knowing if this would get picked up by the local paper. Shit like this is likely to derail all my plans.” He said coldly.

  “What are we gonna do?” Fear was written all over her face.

  He said nothing, gave a drawn out sigh and shook his head. Then he entered the bedroom and left her standing by the door.

  Noelle felt confused…and so guilty. If the repercussions from the broadsheet affected her husband in any way, she was to blame. He had worked so hard for everything, just to fall apart this early in the race.

  She followed him inside and noticed that he headed straight for the bed. His clothes lay in a pile near the foot of the bed. She gathered them and placed everything in the hamper before she approached the bed and climbed in. His back was turned towards her side. Noelle knew he was still upset.

  She reached out and caressed the muscle on his back. It was then she realized how tense and stiff he was. She inched closer and kissed the side of his face.

  “Hunter, talk to me, please.” She begged.

  She wrapped her arms around his chest and snuggled closer. She felt him stiffen and draw away from her.

  “I’m tired. I have a long day tomorrow. Good night, Noelle.” He retorted coldly.

  He could have slapped her and it still wouldn’t be as painful as the rebuff. For the first time in their marriage, Noelle felt like an interloper, an unwanted guest who should have just stayed out of his life.

  ***

  After spending a sleepless night beside Hunter who managed to doze off despite the bad news, Noelle rose to find him gone. She knew that he was angry and upset. Reason said it wasn’t her fault. But she couldn’t help feeling that Hunter blamed her somehow.

  She was wary about calling him and asking if there were any other development. She decided to call Lisa. She would know.

  “Yes, it’s on page six of today’s paper, I’m afraid.”

  Noelle’s heart sunk. “What do they intend to do?”

  “Hunter’s advisers think it would be best to fund an anonymous survey. See what people think about this whole shitty situation.”

  “Oh God, Lisa. This is all my fault.”

  “Hush child. This is not your fault at all. It’s only on page six. It will probably have a small effect but not enough to derail him completely. Keep your fingers crossed, okay?”

  The days that followed were like torture as she waited for word from Lisa. When it finally came, she was light-headed with relief. The good news was the survey Hunter’s group conducted only indicated a slight dip in his popularity rating. All wasn’t lost. But the rift between them felt wider somehow.

  Two weeks before the start of campaign season, the bombshell dropped.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Noelle still hadn’t gotten used to the constant presence of reporters and photographers outside Eats Well café. Like hounds on the trail of blood, paparazzi made it their business to know her daily activity.

  When anyone closely resembling the press came in on the pretext of ordering food, she made herself scarce and exited through the back door. She felt like a specimen under a microscope.

  Since the initial frenzy of her wedding preparation, as well as Hunter’s ensuing campaign, Noelle hired additional crew to help Miranda on a daily basis. The girl insisted that she could manage, but Noelle felt guilty about leaving her alone. Noelle’s constant absences brought out Miranda’s creative spirit in the café operations, leading to a confidence to manage efficiently without her. Noelle owed her a lot. She would have closed shop a long time ago if it weren’t for her friend.

  Miranda sensed there was something more to Noelle’s revulsion for the press. Miranda took it upon herself to relieve the added pressure of dealing with the paparazzi’s unceasing attention. Regular exchanges of heated words, expletives spewing, plus the threat of thwacking them with her cast-iron pan kept the nosy reporters at bay.

  They moved to the other side of the road. The street became the invisible barrier that gave Noelle a false sense of security, but it was hardly enough for the privacy she wanted. Long-range camera zoom lenses recorded every move they made.

  She cursed Diggs for all this unwarranted attention. It had his signature all over it. The bastard must have made a deal with an equally sleazy reporter and gotten money for it. The fact that the story was picked up by a legitimate local paper was unexpected.

  “Must have been a slow day at the office,” she mumbled bitterly, not realizing that everything concerning Hunter Blackwell always fed the media’s interest.

  The paparazzi’s presence wasn’t all she had to bear.

  Her being pregnant was still a secret. She desperately wanted to share the news with her husband but didn’t know how. There was a wall between them that was difficult to explain. It resembled a silent accusation that she was to blame somehow as he doubled his efforts to regain lost ground. Even inside their bedroom, she felt the distance. Hunter was like a cliffhanger, always taking the farthest side of the bed away from her.

  That hurt her intensely. But she put on a brave front, for his sake.

  All of this will blow away soon. Optimism kept her going. Things will change once he got elected.

  Noelle and Miranda stared warily when a nondescript white van made a sudden stop in front of the café. Two burly men in black jackets stepped out and headed straight for their entrance. The arrival caused a sudden stir in the horde across the street. Noelle soon realized why. The word POLICE was emblazoned on the backs of the jackets.

  “Miranda Okafor!” One of the men inquired in a loud voice.

  Noelle was on her feet and went to meet them. She happened to glance at Miranda. The girl had turned ashen.

  “How can I help you, Officers?”

  “We’re looking for Miranda Okafor. Please identify her for us.”

  Noelle sensed they already knew who Miranda was. Both officers had their eyes locked on her. What alarmed her was the way the officers had their hands on the holster of their guns like they were expecting trouble.

  “Miranda?” Noelle threw her a puzzled look. What could these men possibly want from Miranda?

  The girl was rooted to the spot, her eyes like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

  “Miranda Okafor, you are charged with unlawful entry into the United States. Come with us, please.”

  The request was immediately followed by handcuffs slapped on Miranda’s wrists.

  “You will spend the night in a detention facility until an Immigration Judge hears your case. You will be notified about succeeding hearings or immediately sent back to Nigeria.”

  Miranda started to cry, a cry that turned to a heartrending wail. Noelle was so confused that she hardly heard the words the officers said. It was as if it was happening in a movie, but in slow motion. Police ushering Miranda to the door, Miranda looking at her helplessly, her face begging for help - it all felt surreal.

  “WAIT!”

  Noelle scrambled after the officers, just as they reached the door. The burlier of the two tried to block her way. Noelle pushed him aside in a desperate attempt to grab on to Miranda. A scuffle ensued. The next thing she knew, both police officers had their guns pointed at her.

  She embraced Miranda tightly, unwilling to let go. This was all a mistake. She needed to let the officers know. But they just seemed overly aggressive.

  “Please,” Noelle begged, clinging to Miranda even tighter. “You must be mistaken. She works for me.” Noelle attempted to explain.

  Miranda was bawling. The same burly guy, who tried to block her way, forcefully removed her, pulling her arms away from Miranda and holding her around the waist. Then he bodily dragged Noelle away.

  “NO!” Noelle screamed as Miranda was loaded inside the van that immediately sped a
way.

  She stayed rooted to the spot, crying helplessly, until the van disappeared from sight. It was only later in the evening that she realized that the whole incident was recorded and landed on the primetime news on national television.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “What were you thinking” Hunter questioned with eyes blazing. His voice resounded angrily against the walls of the mansion.

  Noelle was spent from crying. She didn’t have the energy to think of a reply that could lessen his fury. He had been ranting for half an hour. There was no explanation that satisfied his wrath.

  “People now think you coddle illegal aliens,” he sputtered, “Do you even know what that means?”

  Noelle nodded in defeat. The insult was flagrant. He must really think she was that stupid not to understand anything that just happened.

  Even her explanation that she met Miranda on the same morning he came barging into her door just wasn’t good enough.

  “She needed my help. I just couldn’t let her bleed to death outside my door,” Noelle replied indignantly.

  He accused her and said that it was a wrong judgment taking someone in, even if she was sick and bleeding.

  Noelle was shocked. But Hunter wasn’t even halfway finished with her.

  “Do you have any idea how you must have looked getting into a brawl with the police?”

  “I was just trying to protect her. They were taking her away and she was so frightened.”

  “Noelle,” he retorted with sarcasm, “Do I need to remind you that you are my wife? I am running for Senator. Your actions reflect on me as a candidate. Elections are in two weeks. How am I supposed to deal with the repercussions? I’m sure to lose everything I’ve worked for all these months.”

  There it was clear as day. His main concern was out in the opening.

  “No. There’s no need to remind me of it at all. You stand to lose everything and it’s my doing. You’ve made it clear right from the very start. The wedding, the honeymoon, everything was about your campaign and your desire to become Senator.” Noelle replied, sarcasm dripping in her voice.

  This wasn’t about Miranda. He showed no interest to find out where she was taken. Nor was this about Noelle and the scuffle that made her look like a punk on the news. This was all about him, his ambition, and his dream.

  Hunter rose to leave.

  “Where are you going?” Noelle asked softly.

  Hunter glared at her, rolled his eyes, and huffed.

  “I’m going to see James Powell and see if there’s anything more I can salvage from all the mess YOU have made.” Hunter replied with derision.

  It was the most belittling statement he ever made about her. Noelle realized this was the end. Hunter will never forgive her. There was only one thing left to do. It crushed her thinking about it but he left her with no choice.

  “If it will help salvage anything for you, tell James Powell I’m leaving you first thing in the morning.”

  Her pronouncement hardly made an impact on him. He looked at her blankly, as if she didn’t exist.

  After he left, Noelle dropped to the floor and wept. She felt like a piece of nothing because she really was nothing in his eyes. Just an expensive accessory he thought he needed but no longer had any use for. There was nothing more for her in this house.

  She entered the bedroom, packed a few things, and went to collect her son.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The cottage at Bay Shore was by no means big compared to the estate at the Hamptons. But it was comfortable and cheap. The end of the tourist season ensured there would be fewer chances of someone recognizing her.

  Noelle watched as Nikko frolicked in the nearby sand. She was reading today’s paper that she picked up from a local grocery store. She devoured every article she could find about Hunter.

  She missed him terribly and wondered if he ever thought about her. In all probability, not at all. It horrified her to learn how badly he was doing in the race. After the scandal that ensued with the police brawl and the media calling her protector of illegal aliens, reports predicted he was going to lose. And it was all because he married her. That scenario blew up in his face.

  Noelle read the latest article that showed Hunter talking to a group of young people in the ghetto. His eyes seemed animated enough but he looked tired and lost. An arm was placed around a young boy’s shoulder. Noelle’s heart melted in pity. If he lost the election, it was a burden she would carry for the rest of her life.

  The day after she left with Nikko, Hunter called incessantly. She refused to take his calls and eventually turned off her mobile. She wasn’t ready to talk to him yet. She suspected it was to discuss the terms for their divorce. The thought chilled her to the bones. She had to face that fact soon. But for now, she just wasn’t ready.

  Her immediate plans were to get as far away from New York as she possibly could. Canada looked promising. It would be a fresh start away from everything.

  “Whatcha reading, Mommy?” Nikko’s tiny voice pulled her away from her reverie.

  She showed him the photo of Hunter on the newspaper.

  “That’s Uncle Hunter,” Nikko said with glee.

  "Yes, it is, honey. I'm afraid he's not doing too well and may lose the election because of me."

  “Did you do something bad?” Nikko asked innocently.

  "Not bad, sweetie. I just tried to protect Miranda and people thought I was doing something bad. Now they don't like Hunter because of what I did."

  “I miss her,” the boy said ruefully. Then his eyes lit up. “Why don’t you tell people what you did for Miranda was not bad? Then maybe they will like Uncle Hunter again.”

  Noelle smiled at the precocious suggestion. If only life was as simple as a little boy’s brain.

  Then it suddenly hit her. There was something she could do after all. Nikko hit the nail on the head.

  Noelle rushed back into the house and searched for the telephone directory. She scrolled through several pages before she found what she was looking for. She reached for the phone and cradled the receiver against her shoulder as she dialed the number. After the second ring, the line was picked up by a female voice. Noelle introduced herself and was soon talking to the Editor-in-Chief of CNBD Networks – the largest media conglomerate on the East Coast.

  ***

  Noelle ran a tongue over dry lips. She never thought she would have to face the media again. But this press conference was one she specifically asked for. After numerous callbacks from the Editor-in-Chief, they finally agreed to her terms. She wanted as many press reporters as possible and the network would have the first option to ask any questions they wanted.

  Noelle agreed. She let them sort out all the details.

  Noelle arrived at the lobby of The Westin with the Editor-in-Chief in tow. She was taken aback by the spectacle. There was a circus atmosphere as media frenzy announced her arrival. Television remote vans with satellite dishes bearing logos of different networks were parked all across the street occupying two blocks from the hotel. Hordes of paparazzi stalked her arrival. Flashbulbs blinded her as she made her way to the conference room.

  Inside, things were even more chaotic. A rostrum occupied the center of a small stage and this was where the Editor-in-Chief led her. Reporters packed the room from wall to wall, even as TV cameras recorded her entrance into the room. Metallic feedback from a microphone announced the start of the press con.

  “Silence, please,” the Editor requested the crowd, who immediately settled down. “As you all know, Mrs. Noelle Mancini-Blackwell is here to share her side of the story. We will give her that opportunity and she will be answering some questions from the media after she has made her announcement. Mrs. Blackwell, please proceed.”

  Noelle took the mic and breathed deeply, the sound of her sigh magnified a hundred times. She looked at the faces eagerly waiting what she had to say.

  “First of all, I want you to know that I don’t like you people very much,” she s
tarted cheekily.

  That elicited laughter from the crowd, enough to set her at ease.

  “There have been a series of events in the past days that have raised questions about my husband’s integrity and his desirability as a public official. I want to reassure you that he is as honorable as the position he is aspiring for. You are all aware of the vast wealth behind the Blackwell name. Hunter does not need this position. Why should he want to shoulder the burden of poverty, a poor educational system, unequal opportunities, social security, tax cuts and gun control? Do you? Because I surely don’t.”

  This drew more laughter from the audience.

  “This is a thankless job where every mistake is magnified and every good act becomes insignificant. But Hunter Blackwell wants to serve. He dreams of conditioning every child’s mind to dream big, to overlook obstacles, to fly and be the best child that he or she can be. That is what he wants to do.”

  She paused dramatically before proceeding.

  "I have made some mistakes, bad decisions that have affected the course Hunter wants to follow. But I own up to those mistakes because it was done out of kindness and compassion. Miranda Okafor is not a criminal. She was a victim of circumstances in Nigeria. It was my fault that I took her in without knowing more about who she was. Yes, she was an illegal immigrant but she is also a person who works hard, who is honest, and who had my back when times were tough. She is my friend and one I dearly love and miss. Hunter Blackwell is innocent. He helped me when I needed it the most. I am appealing to you all. Vote for him not because his life resembles some form of entertainment fodder that makes mediocre lives easier to accept, but because once he is seated in that office as your elected senator, I guarantee, your lives will become better. And that's a promise."

  You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed her impassioned speech.

  Then suddenly… bedlam.

  “Mrs. Blackwell, how did you meet your husband…?”

  “Have you heard from Miranda…?”