Charlie drops her fork. “You’re pregnant!”
“No,” Ari replies, the sadness in her voice is unmistakable.
I grab her hand under the table and give it a squeeze.
Charlie’s face falls. “Oh, sorry.” She picks up her fork and pushes around her baked beans. “Go on.”
Still holding her hand, I pick up where Ari left off. “Because of the media craze, Ned and Holly have backed out of the wedding. So we’re back to square one. Bryan’s looking, but we have no idea what we’ll be able to find.”
Mom pounds her fist on the table. “Those cowards!”
Pop shakes his head as he cuts into his steak. “I can’t believe they’d leave you high and dry like that.”
“People are surprising me more and more every day,” Ari says. “As we look for new venues, I think we should take another look at the guest list. With the way the world has treated Chase, I don’t want to invite anyone who hasn’t been loyal and supportive.”
Mom presses her lips together and gives us a look of sympathy. “How are you two holding up through all of this? It’s been one thing after another.”
“We’re managing,” Ari says. “I think if anything, we’re stronger for it.”
Charlie drops a dollop of butter onto her baked potato. “I’m not sure if you’re stronger or if you’re just realizing how strong you two really are. I could be wrong, but that’s my observation.”
I hear my phone ringing in the kitchen. Ari’s phone starts ringing as well. Then the house phone.
“I think someone’s trying to get a hold of you,” Pop says.
I touch Ari’s hand. “I’ll get it.”
When I get to our phones, the calls have gone to voicemail. I have a text message from Shelly that says Turn on ESPN. I turn on the TV and put it on ESPN. The bottom ticker reads, “Oliver Marshall press conference to begin momentarily.”
“Hey, guys,” I shout. “I think we should watch this.”
Everyone files into the living room.
“What do you think he’s going to say?” Mom asks.
“I have no idea,” I reply. “He hasn’t returned any of my calls.”
Ari takes my hand as Marshall takes the stage.
Marshall stands at the podium. “I was asked not to comment on the Ninergate investigation, but in light of recent events, I feel it is my responsibility to speak up.
“I have known Arianna Aldrich for years. Her father was a great mentor to me. Arianna introduced me to my wife. She’s been at the baptisms of my three children. I’m very lucky to call her a friend. The notion that she was in any way involved in some sort of bounty situation is asinine. I find it personally insulting that anyone would think this good friend of mine would ever do anything against me.
“I’ve known Chase Brennan for as long as he’s been in the league. He has elevated the league with his competitive play, and he has been nothing but a class act on and off the field. The league needs more players like him. There are so few men who are worthy of being role models in professional sports, and we need to spend more time honoring them, not trying to tear them down.
“Denver has the best fans in the world. I love you for wanting to defend me, but I ask you to please stop the violence in my name. The verbal assaults I have seen on social media make my stomach churn. I couldn’t get through the video of the attack on Arianna. The attacks, both physical and verbal, must stop.
“Let me make this perfectly clear. I do not think there was a bounty out on me. I have seen no evidence to indicate there was. If there is evidence, I want to see it. I call on the NFL to show us their cause to let this investigation carry on. It’s time to put up or shut up.” He walks off the stage without taking any questions.
Holy shit! I can’t believe he just did that. Going out on a limb like that was a huge risk for him, and he didn’t have to do it. The press has been leaving him and his family alone for the most part, and he’s just opened the gate and let the wolves in. It’s a huge risk for him, but I’m so relieved he did it. This whole disaster has been in desperate need of a voice of reason, and Marshall just brought a credible one to the table.
As grateful as I am, part of me is pissed he had to come to Ari’s rescue. It’s been killing me to sit on my hands with my mouth shut while she’s been attacked over and over. It’s my job to defend her and protect her, and I’ve failed at both. At least someone can be man enough to stand up for her.
I put my arm around Ari and pull her close.
She leans into my embrace. “That was a game changer. We might just get out of this after all.”
Mom wipes away a tear. “I could kiss that boy right now.”
Pop clears his throat. “I’m not sure why he’s waited this long to say something, but I’m glad he finally spoke up.”
“It sounds as if Denver and the NFL asked him not to,” Ari replies. “Just as the Niner numbers are crashing, Denver has the best ratings in football. They’ve sold out every game since the story came out. This scandal has made them an obscene amount of money. Nobody wants to see that gravy train come to an end.”
Charlie groans. “They’re raking it in while Chase is getting raked over the coals. Fabulous.”
“Do you think the NFL is going to release a statement? Some sort of investigative update or something?” Spencer asks.
Wouldn’t that light a fire under Tate’s ass “We can only hope,” I reply.
Ari stands. “Let’s get back to dinner before it gets cold.”
“Since we’re back at square one with the wedding, you might want to reconsider Texas,” Mom says as we walk back to the dining room. As I walk, I send a quick text to Marshall thanking him for going out on a limb. I promise steaks, scotch, and cigars when this is all over.
We spend the next few hours brainstorming wedding ideas and talking about anything other than Ninergate.
A few hours later, I get a text from Butch that I read to Ari.
B: You owe Marshall a bottle of scotch. Tate is flipping out. I’d be amazed if there’s any drywall left in his house after that temper tantrum. If he’s going to make a move, it’s going to be soon. Will keep you posted.
Ari and I exchange glances. I know neither of us wants to get our hopes up, but it’s really starting to feel like the worm’s turning.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Arianna
Yesterday was the first breath of fresh air we’ve had in a long time. I had hoped we’d ride that high for a little while, but that’s not in the cards.
At three in the morning, I’m woken by a call from Shelly. I grab my phone and rush out of the room so as not to wake Chase. He actually went to bed at a decent hour last night, and the last thing I want is for him to wake up and decide to go to the stadium now.
The first words out of her mouth are, “Have you seen it?”
Pinching the phone between my shoulder and my ear, I tie my hair in a knot as I shuffle to Daddy’s office. “All I’ve seen is the inside of my eyelids. Something I’d like to return to.”
“I’m emailing you now.”
My phone vibrates, letting me know her email has come through. After rubbing my eyes a few times to get them to focus, I look at the screen. It’s a blog post from Cha-Ching, a blogger otherwise known as Miri Rosenbaum. She’s the daughter of a real estate tycoon, and she started the blog in high school. Clearly someone watched a little too much Gossip Girl. She posts about fashion, typically her spoils from her shopping trips, what she liked, and what she didn’t. I can’t stand her posts, but over the last five years, she’s developed quite a following.
Pampered Princess Cares More About Profits Than People
When the news came out that the highly anticipated AA line with Ralph Lauren was being tabled, my heart was broken. Arianna Aldrich is the queen of style and the epitome of class. I was dying to see what she came up with. Curious what sparked this sudden termination, I did a little digging. You know me, I’m like a Dyson—if there’s dirt, I’ll find it.
/> After chatting with a few people in the know, I discovered the real reason behind the early demise of AA.
I’ll warn you, this news crushed me. I have always loved Arianna. I cheered for her when I was a little girl. I cried when she and Henrik broke up, and I was the biggest shipper when she and Chase Brennan got together. But now... if Jews believed in a soul, mine would be crushed.
My sources tell me what sent AA to the guillotine was the fact that Arianna demanded RL use materials known to be made by companies that employ child labor.
I had debated keeping this information to myself, but after Oliver Marshall’s statement yesterday, I could not, in good conscience, stay quiet. The world can’t go on thinking Arianna Aldrich is some fantastic person when she’s nothing but a slave monger. These children are forced to work in deplorable conditions, and for what? So she can make a few more bucks?
Shame on you, Ari!
The blog post goes on, citing lots of misinformation about child labor, tons of condemnation of me, and a plethora of lies and mistruths about my supposed demands. Of course she doesn’t reveal the names of her sources, claiming her “blogger rights to protect her sources.” Since when do bloggers have rights?
“Have you finished reading?” Shelly asks.
I put the phone to my ear. “Yeah, she’s something, isn’t she?”
“She’s something with eight million followers who have been sharing like crazy. The post has gone viral. News outlets have been calling me nonstop for comments.”
Shelly is prattling off a list of possible options when I cut her off. “I think I can make this go away. I’ll call you right back.”
I hang up and scroll though my contacts. Glancing at the time, I see it’s after six New York time, so she’s probably in the office. I call from Daddy’s office phone, a blocked number. I don’t think she’d duck my call, but I’m way too tired to risk it.
“Good morning, Bianca,” I say when she answers. “It’s very early here, so I’m going to cut right to the chase—have you been online yet?”
“If you’re talking about the blog post, then yes, I’ve seen it,” she replies.
I hear her typing in the background, which annoys me to no end. The least she could do is give me her full attention. She doesn’t sound remotely concerned, but she can’t be so foolish as to think I’m not going to respond to this.
“I’m working with my publicist on a response, and I wanted to give you the courtesy of replying first.”
The typing continues. “I’m not authorized to do or say anything regarding you, the AA line, or the termination of the project without talking to legal. I’m not even supposed to be talking to you right now.”
“I understand. You and legal will have plenty to talk about when my response to Cha-Ching’s blog hits the web. All those emails, recordings of video conferences, and documents will keep you busy for a while.”
The typing stops. Now I have her attention. “Those are Ralph Lauren work product. Per your contract, you are prohibited from using them.”
“And you terminated that contract. I’d tell you to sue me, but you’re already doing that.” I probably should have run this by Wallace first, but I’m really good at bluffing.
“I need to discuss this with legal,” she replies, panic clear in her voice.
“You’ve got one hour to put out a statement that emphatically clears my name, or I release mine. You and I both know this will do far less damage to the company if it comes from you.”
“They don’t even get in until nine!”
I put my feet up on the desk. “Then I guess you’d better wake them up.”
“I need more time,” she pleads.
“I’m being very generous right now, more than you and your company deserve,” I say, wondering if I shouldn’t have made this call. “But I don’t have to be. Shall I just go live now? I’ve got that video conference queued up.”
“No! Don’t. I’ll figure it out.”
“Make it good,” I warn before hitting end.
“In an hour, this should be handled,” I tell Shelly when I call her back. “If it’s not, call me. Otherwise, I’m going back to bed.”
I slip back into bed, trying not to shake the mattress.
“Who was that?” Chase murmurs, still half asleep.
“Shhh, go back to sleep,” I whisper.
He rolls over and wraps his arms around me. “Tell me. I can’t be a part of the team if you don’t let me in the huddle.”
I give him the thirty-second summary. “Hopefully they’ll offer to drop this stupid lawsuit in exchange for my copies of anything implicating them.”
“I’m proud of you, Blondie. Give ‘em hell.” He kisses my shoulder. “I’m so sorr—”
Rolling away, I groan. “No more apologies. This isn’t your fault. You need to stop acting as though it is.”
He pulls me back. “Okay. No more I’m sorrys.”
“Good,” I say as I snuggle against him.
I’ve just about fallen asleep when he asks, “Have you heard from Bryan?”
“Hmm?”
“Bryan? Has he come up with anything?” he repeats.
“Um…” I try to kick-start my brain. “Nothing that really jumped out at me. A plantation in Louisiana, but I said no. I’d rather not be reminded of my mother’s killer on my wedding day. Then there was some place called the Ice House in Phoenix that sounds like a run-down factory, but Bryan swears with a few hundred thousand on flowers, he can make it amazing. Something on Lake Michigan—he would love us to be somewhere with snow, which I’m not a fan of. My dress is a beach dress. Snow would not be compatible. The only place that even spiked my curiosity was some place deep in the woods in British Columbia, but apparently that’s where they filmed that vampire wedding, and… no. Just no. So Bryan’s still looking.”
“Good call on all of those,” he replies, sounding sleepy. “Hopefully he’ll find something better.”
I turn so that I’m facing him. “Do you have any ideas you want me to share with him?”
With his eyes closed, looking as though he’s flirting with going back to sleep, he runs his fingers lazily down my arm. “I don’t know. To be honest, it’s still hard to picture anywhere other than Vespers. But every time I think about Vespers, I want to punch something.”
“That’s just the sentiment I want when you’re thinking about our wedding. Oh, maybe we should get married in a boxing gym. It would be kind of fitting for us, don’t you think?”
Stretching, he yawns loudly. “Your dress won’t work for a vampire wedding, but it would work in a boxing ring?”
I pull my hair out of the knot “It wasn’t the vampire wed—never mind, it’s not important. Back to my question—do you still want the same kind of wedding?”
“When we first started planning, there were so many things I thought we ‘had to have’, but my perception on that has changed dramatically. All I want is to get married somewhere where people don’t look at me like I’m Bernie Madoff. Where no one throws anything at me or screams for me to die. I think that’s it.”
“Well…” I say, tapping my fingers on his bicep. “I did hear that Virgin Galactic is doing space weddings now. That might be our best bet. It’s zero gravity, so even if they throw something at you, it would float away. I can’t promise anything about the dirty looks though.”
That wakes him up. “Oh, you’re gonna get it!” He flips me onto my back, pins me down, and tickles me mercilessly.
Heisman wakes up too and becomes so excited by all the screaming and laughing, he jumps on the bed and hops around. When tears are streaming down my face and my abs throb from laughing so hard, Chase finally relents.
Catching his breath, he lies back on the bed. “That hurt, but it was so worth it.”
Not ready to be done playing, Heisman licks my face. This new Valmont moisturizer must taste good, because he licks me as if I’m a melting ice cream cone and he wants to get every drop before it’s gone.
“Every time pain shoots through you today, it’s karma for tickling me.” I sit up and try to get Heisman to do the same. “Back to the wedding, being completely serious, you don’t have anything you want me to tell Bryan? Are we still rushing for March or April? Do we want to wait until everything settles down before we make a decision?”
“I don’t want to wait,” he says firmly. “Hey!” His face brightens so much he looks as though a light bulb literally went off in his head. “I wonder if Bryan could find us something before New Year’s.”
Now we’re back to wedding planning on speed? Where does he get these crazy ideas?
“New Year’s?” I ask. “That’s in three weeks! Plus it’s the holidays. Most normal people have plans they booked ages ago.”
“Well, screw them. I didn’t want to buy them dinner anyway. Come on, can’t you see it? Everything’ll be decorated for Christmas. This fall has been so horrible. Us getting married would be the best way to lighten all this darkness.”
He looks so excited, but I hope he’s not getting his hopes up again. “I’ll ask Bryan, but it’s such a popular time for weddings and holiday parties. I bet it’d even be hard to get a reservation at that drive-through place in Vegas where you get two free tacos with your wedding.”
“No way. Two tacos?” He snorts. “With a deal like that, I bet couples are lined up down the strip. Nothing says hot newlywed sex like cheap Mexican drive-thru! Do you get your choice of E. coli or Salmonella? Or do you get both as part of the twofer?”
I’m not sure if it’s him or how tired I am or all the stress, but I can’t stop giggling.
His smiling face turns contemplative. “Damn, you’re so beautiful. Your smile… it just takes my breath away.”
I feel heat spread across my cheeks as he stares at me with that dreamy look in his eyes.
“Marry me.”
Letting out a small laugh, I smile. “Does this offer expire by New Year’s?”
He shakes his head. “No expiration date. Marry me.”
“You know I will.”
The look in his eyes sends chills up my spine. “Tell me anyway.”
Love To Love You (Love/Hate #3) Page 23