by Marie Force
“You’re totally making fun of me.”
“I am not! I’m simply summarizing the situation and the impasse at which we find ourselves.” Every beautiful inch of him is sexy in yet another tuxedo, this one by Armani.
His eyes dance with mirth as he pushes my buttons and tries to win me over to his way of thinking. He’s absolutely right about one thing—if I accept this gift, I will be setting a precedent, and that concerns me.
“Open it.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“How about I open it for you, and if you don’t like it, you don’t have to keep it.”
“What kind of BS is that? Of course I’m going to like it.”
“Do you ever actually swear? BS doesn’t count unless you actually say it.”
I get very close to his face and say, “Bull. Shit.”
He takes full advantage of my closeness to kiss me. “I love you, Mrs. G, and I love to pick out shiny things I think you’ll like. You’ll hurt my feelings if you make me take it back, so I suppose you ought to just open it so my feelings won’t be hurt.”
“Oh my God. You’re really going to play the hurt-feelings card?”
“I believe I just did.”
I snatch the velvet box out of his hand and open it. I think I actually go blind for a second or two from the shine of diamonds sitting in blue velvet. “Flynn… What? I mean…” I sigh, deeply. He’s too much for me. I lost this battle before it ever began.
He takes my glass and puts both of them in cup holders so he can remove the dazzling diamond bracelet from the box and affix it to my wrist. “There. Now I’m happy.”
“It’s beautiful, but—”
Laying a finger over my lips, he stops me before I can finish the thought. “No buts. You’re my wife, and that gives me the legal right to buy you anything I want whenever I want.”
I raise a brow. “The legal right?”
“Uh-huh. And the law says you gotta take whatever I buy for you, no matter what it is.”
“Where does the law say that?”
“Like you want an actual paragraph or something?”
“That’d be good.”
“I’ll ask Emmett to get it for you.”
“You do that.” I look down again at the bracelet. “It’s too much, Flynn. I’m not comfortable with being spoiled like this.”
“Give it time. You’ll get used to it.”
“No, I don’t think I will.”
“Why do I suddenly fear there’s a deeper issue afoot here?”
I take a moment to collect myself, swallowing the knot of emotion that has gathered in my throat. “You’re so incredibly generous. I’ve never known anyone who thinks of others as selflessly as you do. I don’t want you to ever think I don’t appreciate your thoughtfulness or your generosity, because I do. I appreciate it very much.”
“But?”
“But it makes me uncomfortable to be showered with things like diamonds when I can barely buy you dinner right now.” A glance at my online bank balance earlier in the day left me feeling rather ill. He mentioned me getting paid for my work on the foundation, but that hasn’t kicked in yet.
“Wow. Well, I don’t even know where to begin to reply to that. You’re my wife, Natalie, which means everything I have is now yours, too. You can buy me anything you want to. You can buy yourself anything you want or need. Tomorrow, we’re getting you access to money. I should’ve done that sooner, and I’m sorry that I didn’t think of it before now.”
“I’m not asking you to do that.”
“I know you’re not. I’m telling you that that’s what’s going to happen.”
I’m not sure I like being told. I decide to let it drop for now so we can enjoy this special evening, but the subject is far from closed.
Chapter 15
My beautiful, sweet wife is worried about money? It makes me fucking crazy to hear her say she can’t buy me dinner. She has no idea what she’s married into or the resources that are now hers—and that’s entirely my fault. Why didn’t I think of it sooner? Of course she’s worried about money. She lost her job because of me, for fuck’s sake.
I feel like I’m learning every lesson with her the hard way, and once again I’m berating myself for not anticipating her concerns. She’s gone quiet, which means she’s pissed. My Natalie is a fighter, and she doesn’t back down. Silence, where she’s concerned, is not golden.
“Nat.”
She looks at me.
“I didn’t mean to say it that way. You have to understand where I’m coming from. To have what I have and then to hear that my wife is worried about money… That sort of hits me right here.” I lay my hand on my heart.
“I’m not worried about it. I’m just out of it because I’m not getting paid anymore.”
“You’ll be getting paid soon from the foundation work, and you’re far from out of money, sweetheart. We’re married now. Your worries are my worries. If you have bills to pay or things you need to take care of, you only have to tell me and it’ll be done.”
“I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“I’m your husband. It’s my job to take care of you.”
“This is not the Stone Age, Flynn. I’ve always been independent, and I’ve always taken care of myself. I don’t know how to be any other way.”
“I understand and respect that tremendously. It’s extremely refreshing to be with a woman who wants to earn her own way. I’ll never stand in the way of you following your dreams. What you want, I want. But you will never, ever, ever worry about money again. Are we clear on that?”
“I suppose I’ll eventually get used to my change in circumstances, but it’s not going to happen overnight. I appreciate that you want to take care of me, but you have to understand that taking care of me doesn’t mean buying me diamonds for every occasion. Put that money toward the foundation. That would make me much happier.”
“I hear what you’re saying. I really do, but you have to let me spoil you a little bit.”
“I have a feeling your idea of a little bit and mine are vastly different.”
I nuzzle her neck, focusing on all the spots that make her sigh. “We’ll find common ground. Eventually.”
“Until then, no more diamonds.”
“No more diamonds. Now, about your student loans…”
“Flynn!”
Laughing, I squeeze her tight and kiss the indignation off her lips.
“You messed up my lipstick.”
“I’ll buy you more.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“I love my wife.”
“She loves you, too, even when you’re incorrigible.”
“I have more fun with you than I’ve ever had with anyone, Nat. Even when we’re bickering. Especially then.”
“I keep waiting to discover something about you that I don’t like.”
Her words are like an arrow to my heart. God… she can’t ever know about the one part of me that she’d definitely not like or understand.
“But so far, there’s nothing not to like.”
“Same here, sweetheart, although I’m not waiting to find something bad. I know there’s nothing to find.”
When we arrive a short time later at the Shrine Auditorium, my anxiety kicks up a few notches. Our security detail has been in close touch with the event security to ensure there won’t be any issues with getting us into the building. But after I was stabbed in a rope line at an event last year in London, public appearances aren’t what they used to be. People are fucking crazy, and I expect the crazy to be a thousand times worse than usual since this is our first public appearance since we tied the knot. The thought of exposing Natalie to that level of crazy makes me extremely uneasy.
We’ve been told to wait in the car until the security detail comes for us.
Natalie holds my hand between both of hers. “You’re vibrating.”
“This shit makes me nuts
after what happened in London. Especially now that we’ve given them the story of the year by getting married.”
“Tonight will be nuts, and after that, they’ll get used to us, and we’ll be just another old married couple.”
“Right,” I say with a laugh. “Somehow I don’t think that’ll happen for a while. This is going to be insane, so just hold on to me, smile and wave if you want to, but don’t let go of me. Okay?”
“I won’t let go. Ever.”
“Promise?”
She lays her head on my shoulder. “I believe I already made that promise in Vegas.”
She soothes and calms me with her sweetness. Knowing that I get to go home with her—tonight and every night—eases my anxiety.
The door opens, and it’s show time. I get out first, generating a roar from the crowd that has gathered to watch the red carpet festivities. As I extend my hand to Natalie to help her out, the decibel level increases exponentially. The crowd literally goes wild over my gorgeous wife.
She glances at me nervously, but then seems to recover, smiling widely as she takes hold of my arm and holds on—tight.
People scream our names, and flashes nearly blind us. The red carpet unfolds before us, and we move forward with the security guys keeping a slight distance so as not to hide us from the crowd. I don’t want that. It’s a fine line between being safe and being standoffish. I’ve always been hands-on with my fans, and I never forget that they’re the ones who made me a star.
But a knife slashing across your ribs in a rope line tends to change your outlook on crowds and fans and celebrity. I keep a bit of distance now that wasn’t there before, and while it saddens me to have to do that, I won’t risk my safety, and I certainly won’t expose Natalie to any danger.
Taking her cues from me, she waves and smiles like an old pro. People are calling out her name and telling her they love her. I’m amazed and humbled by the show of support for my wife. We pause for a huge group of photographers who leave me half-blind from the blast of flashes.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a disturbance that draws my attention. One of the reporters for the show Hollywood Starz, a woman who has interviewed me many times in the past, is crying—on the air—as one celebrity after another walks by her without so much as a glance in her direction.
The boycott is on. I lean closer to Natalie. “Check it out—to the right. They’re the ones that broke your story. Everyone’s blowing them off.”
She takes a subtle look. “Wow. Is she crying on the air?”
“Looks that way.” I keep my arm around her. “Congratulations, sweetheart. You’ve got all of Hollywood on Team Natalie.”
A Hollywood Starz producer tries to get our attention as we go past their setup on the red carpet. Like the rest of my peers, I keep walking when I’d normally stop for a quick chat with them. Instead, I head for their competitors across the way and introduce my wife to the reporters.
“What do you have to say about the boycott of the Hollywood Starz red carpet show?”
“I think the acting community is sending a strong message that we won’t tolerate the exploitation of our loved ones in the name of ratings or clicks. What was done to Natalie shouldn’t happen to anyone.”
“What do you have to say, Natalie?”
She glances at me, and I nod, hoping to encourage her to speak her mind. “I’ve been extremely moved by all the love and support I’ve received from Flynn, his friends and family, as well as the larger Hollywood community. It’s been overwhelming, to say the least.”
“Flynn, you have to know the whole world is talking about you and your lovely wife today. You once said very publicly that you’d never marry again. What was it about Natalie that made you change your mind?”
I look at her gazing up at me with those expressive eyes that had me from the first second I met her. “Everything. Every. Single. Thing.”
She smiles at me, and I’m simply dazzled. There’s no other word for the way I feel when she looks at me as if I hung the moon just for her.
“It’s safe to say that every woman in America just swooned.”
We laugh, say our good-byes and move on to the next interviewer. The questions are similar, and the good wishes are genuine, as is the support for Natalie. I love the way my community has come together to back us both.
On the way into the auditorium, we’re stopped every few feet by people who want to say hello and meet Natalie. I introduce her to some of the biggest names in the business. She is gracious and adorable as she tries to hold on to her composure and not turn into a giddy fangirl.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” she whispers after she meets Julia Roberts. “I had posters of her in my room when I was little.”
“She’s a doll. I’m glad you got to meet her.”
“Could I hit the restroom before we go in? The champagne and excitement are catching up to me.”
“Sure thing. I could go, too.” I gesture to the security detail to let them know we’re going to the restroom. “I’ll meet you right here, sweetheart.”
“I’ll be quick.”
Everyone is so incredibly nice. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but the outpouring from the Hollywood community has been overwhelming. Running into Julia Roberts and having her call me by name was the craziest thing that’s ever happened. Well, other than meeting Flynn, of course.
As I’m headed into a stall, a woman comes out of the next one. I do a double take when I recognize Valerie Ward, Flynn’s ex-wife. Oh God...
“Well, what do we have here?” she asks with one of those small, nasty smiles catty women do so well. “The new Mrs. Godfrey. Congratulations. You’ve managed to do what so many others have failed to accomplish. You’re the Valerie antidote.”
I know she wants me to react, to say something I’ll regret, but I refuse to let her goad me. Rather than take her bait, I start to duck into the stall, but she grabs the door, refusing to let me close it.
Leaning into the stall, she says, “What’s a nice, sweet girl like you doing with a beast like him? Has he tied you up yet? Beat you? Clamped your nipples? Plugged your ass?” She takes a breath, her eyes glittering maniacally. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Good luck, sweetheart. You’re going to need it.” With the palm of her hand, she smacks the door shut in my face. It narrowly misses hitting the side of my head.
My hands tremble as I slide the lock into place. What was she talking about? Valerie’s words race through my mind as I try to make sense of what she said. The man she described bears no resemblance to my Flynn. And the way she called me sweetheart in that condescending tone. Is that what he called her, too? Am I foolish to think that name belongs only to me?
The encounter with Valerie lasted a matter of seconds, but she’s left me reeling and wondering if there’s any truth at all to what she said. She’s good. I have to give her that. Somehow I manage to take care of business, but I need more time than I have to regain my composure.
Did Flynn see Valerie come out? Is he talking to her now? Are they having a contentious reunion? Or is he unhappy to see her and worried about what she might’ve said to me? A line has formed inside the ladies’ room, and I feel the eyes of everyone on me as I wash my hands and reapply my lipstick. I take a few deep breaths, hoping I’m not giving anything away to the curious women who are watching me. Some of them I recognize.
I murmur a hello to everyone who speaks to me on the way out.
When he sees me coming, Flynn pushes off the wall between the men’s and women’s rooms and smiles widely. He doesn’t look upset or pissed, which leads me to believe his path and Valerie’s didn’t cross. Lucky him. I decide to keep my encounter with Valerie to myself so as not to upset him on his big night.
He puts his arm around my shoulders and brings me close enough to kiss my temple. “How bad do I have it when I miss you in the time it takes you to pee?”
His sweetness puts me immediately at ease, despite the ugliness Valerie spewed at me. “P
retty bad.”
“If this is bad, baby, I don’t want to see good.”
Everyone is looking at us. Everyone is interested. Everyone is curious. I’m the woman who changed Flynn Godfrey’s mind about marriage. I realize that for the rest of my life, I’ll always be the woman who changed his mind about marriage. I can live with that.
Once again, we’re seated with Flynn’s Quantum colleagues, Hayden, Jasper, Marlowe and Kristian. Marlowe, Jasper and Kristian hug us, and they congratulate us again on our marriage. Hayden is the last to greet us, and he hugs us both, which I take as a hopeful sign.
We take our seats and pick at the dinner we’re served until the show begins a short time later. While the conversation buzzes around me, I find my mind drifting, puzzling over the things Valerie said to me.
“Has he tied you up yet? Beat you? Clamped your nipples? Plugged your ass?” Flynn had beaten Valerie? There’s no way that’s true. He’s never been anything but a perfect gentleman with me. Sure, things got particularly heated a few times, like on the plane and our wedding night before my meltdown. Everything between us has been hot and entirely consensual, though. The things Valerie described don’t sound consensual.
Then there’s the possibility that Valerie is screwing with me because she’s jealous. I wish I knew what she hoped to achieve by saying that stuff to me.
“You okay?” Flynn asks during a break.
“Yeah. It’s hot in here.”
“Is it? Feels okay to me.”
“How much longer until your category?”
He smiles and winks when he says, “It’s toward the end.”
Someone taps him on the shoulder, and he gets up to say hello.
Marlowe slides into the seat next to mine. “How’s it going, Mrs. G?”
“Is it hot in here, or is it only me?”
“I’m fucking roasting. It’s always hot at these things. Too many people and not enough air.”
My stomach flutters at the thought of asking Marlowe about Valerie. But I need to know. “Hey, Marlowe.”