For His Trust (14 page)

Red spun and looked at the younger woman, and she shut up as if he’d stolen the vocal chords right out of her neck. “I heard what you said to my wife, Gia. That was blatantly untrue. I told you specifically that you should come and get me if my wife was on the line, no matter what. And the idea that you would try and convince her to leave the very office that she co-owns? Did I really give you that impression?”

Gia shook her head. “No. No, sir. I just thought that you were so busy—“

“You’re fired, Gia. I want you to grab your things and go. Immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

Several of the other employees were coming out of their offices to see what the ruckus was about.

“I’m so sorry I stirred up problems for you,” Nicole whispered.

Red laughed. “Are you kidding me? I love you. I don’t give a shit about any of this stuff, I care about you.”

They hugged again, and a moment later, Gia rushed past them and down the stairs, her tight little butt wiggling one last time as she scurried out of sight.

“I love you, Nicole. I don’t want anything to ever get in the way of us. And if anyone or anything does, I’ll make it go away.”

“I know,” she said, smiling and burying her face in his chest as they hugged.

“Red?” someone called from behind him.

Nicole broke away as one of his employees came out of the conference room.

“We were wondering if we should take ten or if you’re coming back in now?” the younger man with his hipster glasses asked.

Nicole started to walk away. “I’ll go now. Call me when you get out of your meeting.”

But Red grabbed her hand and wouldn’t let her leave. “Jonathan, take over the lead on the pitch for me. Tell everyone I’m sorry but I have something really important to attend to. My wife.” And then laughing, Red kissed her hand and pulled her toward the exit with him.

“You can’t just leave your pitch meeting,” she cried as they ran down the stairs, giggling like two kids cutting class.

“Fuck the pitch meeting,” he said.

“You’re crazy!” she laughed. “What’s gotten into you?”

When they got outside the building, he pressed her up against the wall and kissed her deeply and passionately. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Then, Red looked into Nicole’s eyes, as he caressed her hair. “I’ll tell you what got into me. You did. Your heart, your laugh, your smile, your caring soul. That’s what got into me. I don’t want to give you up for anything.”

“You don’t have to give me up,” she said. “I want you to have both. I want you to do your business—“

“Our business,” he corrected her.

“Don’t give anything up for me.”

“I’m not giving it up. I’m just making my priorities crystal clear, Nicole.”

She laughed and kissed him again and he kissed her back. When they’d broken off, she told him about the call from Danielle and firing Marcie.

“You took a stand,” Red said, shaking his head with admiration. “That’s my girl.”

“The wedding got blown so out of proportion,” Nicole said. “I don’t even know how it happened. I just let my head get filled with so many ideas and I stopped even making choices. This whole thing was supposed to be about us—you and me. I don’t care who else is there or what kind of cake we have.”

“What do you say we just skip town?” Red asked her, his eyes lighting up with familiar devilish mischief.

“Skip town? I don’t think I’ve ever heard that phrase used before, except maybe in an old black and white movie.”

“Yeah, let’s get out of here. Tonight. Right now, actually.” He grabbed her hand again and started to pull her as he picked up his pace.

“Where? Where will we go?”

“Anywhere!” he yelled.

***

As it turned out, “anywhere” meant Belize, a Caribbean island only a few hours away from New York by plane. It was one of the few places in Central America where English was spoken as the official language. Red told Nicole that he’d been there once before on business and had wished to go back someday with a special person.

Red handled everything.

He had flights arranged and resort accommodations booked by the time they’d packed their bags. Nicole hadn’t even realized how much she’d missed being taken care of by him, until she felt his warm, protective energy surrounding her once more.

After so many days of stress and tension, she was finally able to relax on the flight and went instantly to sleep with Red’s arm around her.

And then they were landing in Belize and being whisked away to Almond Beach Resort, a quaint, scenic beachfront lodge situated right near a small town. The town of Hopkins was full of little shops and cute, colorful houses and buildings.

When they arrived at their own bungalow at Almond Beach, Nicole could tell she was going to love it there.

She took a deep breath as Red dropped his bags and smiled at her. “Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life, Mrs. Jameson.”

“Are we going to really do it—elope here?”

“Do you want to?”

She nodded. “Yes.” Just saying it made her nervous, because that meant the ceremony was suddenly much closer than it had been just a day ago. Now instead of being two months away, it might be just a couple of days away.

“I need to apply for the wedding license,” he said, “and it will be a few days before we can get approved. But that’s good because I want to make sure everything’s just right for our day.”

“What does that mean?” she laughed. “Make sure what’s just right?”

“You’ll see,” he told her.

***

The next few days were gorgeous in every way. They would wake up late and lie in bed, laughing and talking and holding each other. They would literally run out the front door of their island bungalow and jump straight into the Caribbean, where Nicole would swim for a few minutes, and then come out and relax on the beach, slowly warming as the sun came up.

Red loved the water, and he would sometimes swim for an hour or more, going so far from shore that it made Nicole a little nervous—except that she knew he was an excellent swimmer.

Next, they would eat a light breakfast of fruit and coffee, after which it might be time to walk into town and browse the shops and eventually get a bite to eat.

The one rule both of them followed was to keep their cell phones off. They’d set their outgoing messages to explain to people that they were on their honeymoon and would only rarely check messages or email.

At night they would have a nice dinner and there was often music and dancing on the beach. The last two evenings Red and Nicole got slightly drunk, and after dancing and drinking like teenagers, went back to their bungalow and stripped naked, jumping into bed together and making slow, intense love.

Finally, on the fourth day in Belize, Red was up earlier than usual, and he woke her to tell her he was leaving for a few hours.

“I’ve got to go check on the license,” he told her, kissing her forehead as she blearily opened her eyes and looked up at him.

“Let me come with you,” she whispered.

He stroked her hair. “No, no. It’s going to be interminable, sitting in some stuffy office and waiting to fill out forms. I’ll be back in a few hours and I’ll call you if I get held up.”

Nicole sighed. “I love you so much. I can’t wait to be Misses Jameson.”

“I love you too.”

And then he left.

Nicole sat up in bed and yawned, wondering what she would do for the next few hours while Red was off trying to get the wedding license.

She went to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Nicole was surprised to see just how tan she’d gotten over the last couple of days. Her skin was brown and she was never brown. She was used to being pale.

But Nicole found that she liked how her skin looked right now, even though she knew that it wasn’t the healthiest long-term option.

She jumped in the shower and just did a quick wash and rinse, didn’t linger too long. And then she came out and changed into a pink two-piece bathing suit that she’d bought while walking through town with Red the day before yesterday.

A few minutes later, she went swimming, and then flopped onto the beach and lay down, dozing a little as the surf roared in her ears.

“Hello?” an accented voice called out from nearby.

Nicole started, opening her eyes. Had she been sleeping? She didn’t even know.

She looked up to see a small man dressed in the resort uniform, along with a tall woman standing at the door to the bungalow, knocking and calling out.

Nicole got up, brushing sand from her arms and legs. “Hi, can I help you with something?” she asked, jogging over to them.

The man, who must have been a porter, was holding a bunch of dark, long bags that were taller than he was. His arm strained to keep them from dragging on the ground.

Beside him, a tall, extremely thin woman had another large bag over her shoulder.

“Miss Masters?” the woman asked in a smooth, cultured voice.

“Yes?”

“I’ve been instructed to help you prepare for your wedding today.”

“You have?”

The little man was straining to keep the bags from dragging. “I would like to put these down somewhere safe.”

“Of course, come in.” Nicole opened the door and let them into the room. “Sorry for the mess,” she said.

The porter put the bags down on the bed and the woman tipped him something that must have been fairly generous, because he got a huge, white toothed smile on his face. “Congratulations, Miss,” he said to Nicole. “Good luck today!”

He hurried out the door.

“I’m really confused,” Nicole said. “Red didn’t tell me that anyone would be coming by to help me get ready. In fact, he’s out trying to see if we even can get a license to marry.”

The woman smiled patiently. “My name is Liz Eastman.” She held out her hand for Nicole to shake.

“Your name sounds vaguely familiar.”

“Those are my dresses,” she said, nodding to the bags on the bed.

Nicole gasped. “You’re
the
Liz Eastman?”

She’d heard of Liz’s clothing line, of course, but her brain had been too surprised to put two and two together. Liz Eastman was the designer of East End Fashion, and her dresses had been worn by the likes of Katy Perry and Rachel McAdams.

Liz Eastman was a huge name in the fashion world, and Nicole couldn’t believe that she’d come all the way out to Belize to personally help style Nicole for her wedding.

“So, we don’t have time for much talking,” Liz said, getting down to business.

“We need to look at these dresses and see if we can get you fitted properly.”

Liz walked to the bed and began unzipping the bags, taking the dresses out and hanging them in a nearby closet. Once they were all hanging, Liz and Nicole discussed which ones she should try on.

All of the gowns were exquisite.

Nicole had never even tried on something as expensive or beautiful as one of these gowns—which surely must have cost thousands and thousands of dollars.

She couldn’t believe Red had thought of this for their wedding. It made her so happy that he’d gone the extra mile—more than that, he’d brought someone halfway across the world for her.

Nicole first tried on a strapless, lace wedding dress. When she had it on, Liz made her turn around a few times and then began muttering and pulling it in different places. “This is quite beautiful on you,” Liz said. “But we can do better, I think.”

Next, she had Nicole try on an ivory tiered, silk gown that was like putting on a cloud. Everything was soft and flowing and Nicole actually said, “I feel like a princess in this,” which was the cheesiest thing she’d ever uttered aloud. Not to mention, she’d said it in the presence of one of the most amazing designers on the planet.

That was one of the more embarrassing moments of her life to date.

But the third time was truly a charm; a simple column wedding dress made from chiffon, with floral silver and glass beading. It hugged Nicole’s body as she walked, and was incredibly comfortable and form fitting, yet still romantic and elegant.

“It looks as if we’d spent years making alterations,” Liz said, clapping her hands.

“You just have the perfect body to carry off this dress. I’m simply amazed.”

Nicole was honored that Liz Eastman seemed so happy with how it looked on her.

“Now I must find hair and makeup,” Liz said. “Give me one moment.”

“Excuse me, did you just say hair and makeup?” Nicole called out, as Liz hurried from the bungalow.

Nicole was sitting in an incredibly expensive wedding gown and starting to sweat.

She wondered where Red was and what he had in store for her next. It was all too much.

And yet she had an enormous smile on her face because it was actually perfect, and she couldn’t have asked for more.

About ten minutes later, Liz Eastman returned to the room with another woman.

Apparently she was a very successful and sought after stylist who had a chic salon in Belize that catered to the very wealthy tourists.

Her name was Angela, and together, she and Liz went to work making Nicole into the very definition of a perfect bride—styling her hair, applying makeup, tweaking her dress and her appearance from moment to moment.

She felt like a living doll.

By the time they were done with her, nearly two hours had elapsed and they both seemed conscious that they needed to get her out the door.

“Where am I going?” she asked.

“Everything is taken care of. But we need to go,” Liz explained.

They walked her out the door of her bungalow and that’s when Nicole’s breath was taken away. A long, beautiful white carpet had been laid out from the door of the bungalow, all the way to the beach and almost to the ocean edge itself. There were rose petals strewn along the white runner. Standing at the end of it, right by the water, was a small group of people.

Nicole was laughing and crying.

“Here, take these and walk to your husband,” Liz whispered, handing Nicole a bouquet of flowers.

Music had begun softly playing. There were two violinists, a cellist, and a guitarist nearby, playing Pachelbel’s Canon as she walked down the isle.