Boxed Set: The His Submissive Series Complete Collection (Part One-Part Twelve) (66 page)

And just like that, I’d found our wedding planner.

The excitement that colored Alicia’s face a few minutes ago devolved into confusion. “Small and...intimate?”

Macy nodded. “I think that would really capture the essence-”

“We’ll be in touch, Macy.” Alicia sliced in, shutting her down.

I opened my mouth to tell her to wait, but Macy didn’t linger. Alicia offered to pay for her drink, but she whipped out a twenty and dropped it on the table before she strut toward the exit. Another point in her favor. She knew she was good and didn’t have to beg for our business, despite the groom’s net worth.

“Don’t worry,” Alicia said, the borderline scary chipper voice clearing out me and Jacob’s surprise and replacing it with uneasiness. “We’ll find someone that can give you two the wedding you deserve.

I hoped Jacob would speak up and state the obvious—that what she really meant was the dream wedding SHE wanted for us, but he said nothing, reading his menu in silence. I followed suit, but committed Macy Scott’s name to memory.

****

M
egan walked in, her eyes gulping up every inch of the apartment. “I don’t think you can call anything occurring in this place a ‘sleepover’. I think that word should be reserved for modest, itty bitty kinda places where mere mortals live. This—” She gestured around us before twisting her long, fiery strands nervously. “This is breathtaking.”

“You act like you haven’t seen it already!” I laughed, holding out my hand for her overnight bag. “It’s just four walls, Meg.”

Her green eyes glimmered as she shook her head in disagreement. “I wondered when this would happen.”

Pangs of worry pricked my arms and the back of my neck when I took in her worried expression. “When what would happen?”

“When you’d be so jaded by all of this that you’re all, ‘It’s no biggie!’.” She leaned in, dropping her volume to a whisper. “Let me let you in on a little secret. This isn’t just four walls. This is like,
MTV Cribs
before it sucked. This is call up every interior design magazine
ever
so you can get your brag on.” She gasped and covered her mouth in horror. “This is just step one. The next is upgrading your friend circles to socialites and celebrities.”

I yanked the strap from her hand, shaking my head. “Don’t worry, I’d keep you around for laughs.”

“Like your court jester.” She swept the air with her arm twice in a gesture that reminded me of our
Tudors
marathon last summer. Naturally, she punctuated it by bending at the waist, bowing low. “Your Majesty.”

I ignored her, moving to the living room where I deposited her bag beside the sofa. “Keep it up and I’m gonna start regretting inviting you over here to keep me company while Jacob’s in London.”

“I’m a lot more fun than whatever trashy reality TV show you would have thrown on.

She knew me too well.

When Jacob left at the last minute to handle business in England, I’d already mentally recounted what I had recorded on the DVR. When I realized it wouldn’t have been more than background noise while my eyes were glued on Macy’s website, regretting not standing up to Alicia, I decided I needed to call in reinforcements. At least with Megan I could vent instead of staring at the little ‘Message Me’ button until my eyes bled.

She joined me in the living room, gesturing at the white sofa. “Can I sit or will I ruin it?” When I glared at her she laughed, “I’m just saying, I don’t want to mess up your feng shui or whatever.”

“Megan...” I warned with a groan.

She dropped down without another word and her face went serious. “Alright. So what’s going on?”

I’d already told her about Alicia’s change of heart (or change of strategy), but I hand’t talked to her since the woman started wearing out my cell number.

I dropped into the oversized armchair, repositioning my head band and rolling up the sleeves of my denim shirt. “Jacob’s mom is driving me insane.”

“I think that’s what mother-in-laws are supposed to do,” she offered unhelpfully. She must have picked up on my annoyance because she tried a different route. “Remember when you were trying to play nice? I thought this was what you wanted. Alicia to be friendly and be in you and Jacob’s life.”

She was right. In the beginning, I wanted to bridge the distance between Alicia and Jacob. Despite my reservations, I thought that having her in his life was what Jacob needed.

And then I got to know her...and I realized the healthiest thing for Jacob and everyone involved was distance. The optimist in me wanted to believe that she genuinely wanted to start over and be the mom Jacob deserved from the start, but I couldn’t quiet the reality of what she’d done. The blank check. The hurtful comments about me. About Jacob. All but telling Jacob damn his feelings and needs—he’d have to pry the ring from her cold, dead fingers.

“I thought I did,” I said honestly. “Thinking back, I was so naive. I saw that letter and she seemed so nice. I figured it was all Rachel, but I had no idea she was-” I stopped, not finishing.

“Bat shit insane?” Megan offered. “You know, maybe that’s why she and Rachel got all buddy-buddy. They both have a screw or ten loose.”

I slumped backward with a sigh. I never thought I’d say I’d rather talk about Rachel Laraby than the topic at hand. Her name would come up dead last, hands down. But Jacob’s mom gave her some competition.

I sat back up hesitantly, meeting Meg’s patient gaze.

“She’s been calling, texting, emailing, hell, I bet she’d even send smoke signals if she could. I mean, you know how hardcore my mom can get if she doesn’t hear from me every few days.”

“Oh yes,” Megan answered with an understandable shudder.

During my second year in college we had a falling out and I stopped answering my phone. Most parents would take that as a pretty good indicator that space was needed. Not my mother—she came out to campus, demanding to know my schedule and gain access to my dorm. According to the staff member who had the misfortune of dealing with her, she’d even demanded I be brought from class to the administrative building like a child being called to the principals office. They sent her away because my school recognized a fact that seemed to fly over Mom’s head—that I was an adult—and I’m sure they didn’t want to get involved in a private matter. If that whole thing wasn’t embarrassing enough, one of the student’s working in the office put my mom’s craziness on her Facebook wall.

Eventually, Mom and I made up, but I’d never forgotten the embarrassment and shame that she’d actually come to my school and made a scene.

“So take my mom’s brand of...persistence,” I said after an unpleasant trip down Memory Lane. “And multiply that by ten.”

Megan’s green eyes rounded. “Holy crap.”

“Yep,” I said with a bitter laugh. “Jacob said she was absent most of his life and instead of moderation, she jumped to the other side of the spectrum. It got so bad that I actually considered changing my phone number.”

“Yikes,” she said sympathetically. “So she’s been apologizing like crazy, huh?”

“Nope.” Which was ironic, because she had a LOT to be sorry for. But other than the apology she’d given in the coffee shop, she hadn’t uttered another ‘I’m sorry’. “She seems more intent on making sure Jacob and I have the wedding of her dreams.”

“Um...” She held onto the ‘mmm’, voice filled with all the suspicion that rang in my head from the very first call. “Maybe she should work on rebuilding the bridge before she blazes over it?”

“You’d think, huh? I don’t know how many times I told her Jacob and I hadn’t even discussed what our dream wedding would look like and how she completely ignored that ‘tiny hiccup’.”

Our eyes met and the unspoken question was plain as day, hitting me like a blow to the chest: Why hadn’t we talked about our wedding?

“We’ve both been so busy. I mean, we’re not purposefully not talking about it. And he’s going to be out of town until he gets a handle on the merger and-” I took a breath, realizing I was babbling. My hands were clammy and I was nervous as hell, trying to explain why my fiancé and I neglected to have a very important conversation.

“Everything good with you and Jacob?” Megan asked cautiously.

“Good? Everything’s great!” I answered quickly. I immediately realized I was a little too eager and leaned back, steadying my nerves. “Our intimacy level is through the roof. We even-” I decided against telling her what we’d done on the very cushion she was sitting on, but the way she made a face and jumped to her feet meant she could put two and two together.

“Eww, really?!” She shot me a look before she started pacing back and forth. “Anyway...you’re good in the bedroom, but how about emotionally?”

“Emotionally?” I recalled his confession about his suicidal moment. HIs mother’s
frequent
suicidal moments. Together, we’d stripped down the layers until I knew everything about who he was and he knew...”Oh my god.”

Megan stopped pacing. “What?”

“He opened up to me, but I—I’ve never opened up to him. Sexually, sure. But never about my past. Or about the wedding.”

“Why?”

I shrugged, not sure of the answer. “I guess my life is pretty unimpressive.”

“That’s a cop-out and you know it,” she tsked. “I get that Jacob is going through a lot and had some really horrible things happen when he was a child, but it doesn’t make your story any less important.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Are you his therapist or his fiancé?”

“His fiancé,” I answered curtly.

She went back to the chair, hovering a few inches before saying the hell with it and sitting down. “Love is more than one person pouring out their soul and the other carrying the weight of it. It’s give and take—or else you wake up one day and realize you’re with someone that doesn’t really know you, but you know everything about him.”

I bit my lip to stop the retort that rose in my throat.
What do you know about it?
Megan knew too much. Her ex, Brad, had the whole tortured thing down to an art. Megan told me his father liked to get completely plastered and beat the living crap out of his wife and when he got bored, Brad and his sister were next in line. Not to diminish his story; it was a terrible thing that happened to him. No child should ever endure a parent, anyone, harming them, but Megan took on the pain. Whenever Brad berated her or cheated or did something douche-ish it was always back to his childhood. She supported him, but she had no voice in the relationship. Whenever she demanded more of him and tried to explain how she had pain of her own, he’d one up her by reminding her of something horrible his father did to him. She completely lost her voice, lost herself in him.

Was I losing myself in Jacob?

“We’ll figure it out together when he comes back. We’ll sit down and I’ll tell him that I want something small. That I want to work with Macy.”

She didn’t seem too convinced. “Why do you think you haven’t talked about it? Why didn’t you speak up when Macy left?”

“Well, we’ve been busy,” I reiterated, unable to stop the defensive streak from lashing out when I spoke. “And as far as the wedding, as long as Jacob’s there, I’m good.”

“Well, duh,” she said with an eye roll. “But that’s not really what I mean. Even if you didn’t want to start something in the restaurant, why didn’t you bring it up to Jacob after?”

“I don’t know,” I said stubbornly. Lying. I knew exactly why I didn’t say anything. It was the exact same reason I closed my laptop or clicked the tab closed whenever Jacob turned his attention to me.

“If you want me to drop it, I’ll drop it,” she said quietly, sitting back and looking away. She was trying to give me space and I loved her for it, but didn’t want or need it. The shades were already pulled open, there was no pulling them back closed.

“No way does Jacob Whitmore get married on a beach with a ukulele or any of that. He’s supposed to do the big, wedding of the century thing with a sea of people he barely knows, flowers, something that cost more than the average person makes in a year. And with the life I’ll be leading-”

“You can’t have it both ways, Lay,” she cut in softly. “You can’t say the money won’t change you and then tell me you’re sacrificing your dreams for his like a perfect Upper East side wife.” She leaned in. “Are you really trying to tell me that you don’t think he’d be receptive?”

“It’s not that.”
Be honest
. “It’s a little that. I guess I’m more worried that he won’t care at all.” I looked at her and said the thing I didn’t at lunch with Jacob and his mother. “I don’t want a big wedding. I want something small that focuses on me and Jacob and our future.”

“So that’s what you say to him,” she said simply. She rubbed her hands together. “I think my work here is done so we can commence the watch-age of whatever overly dramatic show you want to subject me to.”

“Not so fast,” I said, remembering some questions I wanted to ask her. The last few pictures in the tabloids of Cade included a woman with red hair and a build identical to Megan’s. “When are we going to talk about you and Cade?”

She reached for the remote and pressed power. “There is no me and Cade.”

“Right,” I said skeptically. “Why is it a huge secret? Why can we talk about me and Jacob and his crazy mother but Cade is off limits?”

She looked at me, something indiscernible flashing in her eyes before she turned back to the TV screen. “I...I’m not ready, Leila. Please respect that.”

I dropped it. For now.

****

“W
hat are you wearing?”

I pulled the phone from my ear then brought it back with a laugh. “I know you’re not being serious.”

Even though I was the only person on the floor since Natasha was out sick, I cast a nervous look at the door. The silence that followed my statement told me that he was dead serious—and the heat that flooded me crashed into my nerves until there was nothing to hold onto but desire.

“So how’s London?” I asked quickly, trying to move the conversation to G-rated territory.

“Wet,” he answered glumly. “Relatively uneventful since I’ve spent the past two days on the phone or in meetings.”