For Richer, for Richest (3 page)

Justin's face lit up, too.

She held her arms out to him. "Squishy, squeezy hug!"

"Are you sure you're up for that? Last time I nearly squeezed the stuffing out of you!" He pulled her into a hug, rubbing her cheek with his beard while she giggled wildly and screamed at him to stop whiskering her. But when he tried to pull away, the little girl clung to him.

"I think you're squeezing the stuffing out of
me
this time!" he said.

She finally released him, totally ignoring both Brenda and me.

"Your beard is different." She frowned and ran a small hand through his hair. "You cut your hair!" She made a pouty face so serious and flirtatious I almost laughed.

"I did. Do you like my new look?" He held her gaze.

"The jury's out," she said, sounding terribly grown-up, probably imitating her mom. Who was nowhere to be seen.

Justin's answering laugh was deep and rich. "Where's your mom?"

"Getting a coffee. What did you bring me?" The girl reached for the backpack hung over Justin's shoulder.

"You are such an eager, greedy little thing!" He was still grinning as he slid the backpack off and set it on the bed. "Do you have Dolly with you?"

The girl rolled her eyes in an exaggerated way, shook her head, and made a grown-up sound of disgust. I wondered if her mom sounded like that, too. "Duh." She pulled a doll out from beneath the covers. It had apparently been lying in bed next to her.

Jus laughed, unzipped the backpack, and pulled out two pairs of sparkly pink pajamas, one sized for a doll, the other for the girl.

Her eyes went wide. She clapped as he handed them over.

He held a finger to his lips. "Shhhh. You can't tell anyone about these. They're brand new and exclusive to Flash. This is an advance sample. No one else has them yet. You'll be the first. Not only in Seattle, but the entire world."

The girl was already pulling the clothes off her doll and dressing her in the pajamas. "Dolly and me are going to look so pretty! Like twins!"

Brenda put a hand on my shoulder and whispered in my ear, "I'll leave you now. Justin knows his way around. It was nice meeting you. I expect we'll be seeing a lot of you now." She gave my shoulder a friendly squeeze and disappeared behind the privacy curtain and out the door.

Jus had been admiring Dolly in her new clothes. He stopped the girl just as she was about to peel off her shirt and change, too. "Hold on there a minute. I'm a boy. You can't change like that in front of me." He shielded his eyes comically.

She frowned and gave Jus a look like he was stupid or something. "I change in front of Dr. Nate all the time."

"Doctors are different," Jus said, calmly. "They have to see body parts so they can make them better."

The little girl rolled her eyes again. "You are so lame. Turn your back."

Jus laughed and stood. "I'll stand on the other side of the curtain. You call me when you're ready."

We heard rustling and some cute grunting.

"Having trouble?"

"No!" She sounded indignant. "I got it! I'm ready!"

Jus took my hand and pulled me with him around the curtain.

"Ta-da!" The girl held her arms up and out.

"You look beautiful!" Jus said in that adorable voice he used to tell me the same thing. The voice that actually made a girl feel the way he saw her.

The little girl's beam of happiness turned into a frown as her gaze slid to our clasped hands. Holding hands in public was becoming automatic.

"Who's
she
?" Her voice and face turned to thunder, startling in one so small with so little energy. She was in a pique of little girl jealousy.

"This is my new wife, Kayla." I swore his voice caught on the words. "Kayla, Sophia."

"I'm happy to meet you!" As I reached out my free hand to shake hers, Sophia recoiled and glared at me.

She shook her head vehemently. "No! No, you can't! You can't have a wife. You promised!" If she'd been standing up, she would have stamped her feet. Because she was lying in bed, she had to resort to pounding her pillow with her tiny fist in an impotent show of rage and displeasure. "
I
was going to marry you when I grew up! Remember, silly face?"

Justin's face softened. He hesitated. "Sorry, Sophia. You won't be grown up for a long time. I'll be an old man by then and you won't want me." He grinned at me. "But you're going to love Kayla as much as I do."

My heart did an odd little flip. Love me? How easily and casually he tossed the phrase around in public.

"She knows all about hair and makeup and fashion," he continued. "All those things you love."

Sophia's face twisted into a grotesque, exaggerated frown. Her little lips puckered. "I don't like her. You were supposed to marry Mommy until I got old. Then I would marry you."

"Who's supposed to marry me?" A slender woman, an older, healthier version of Sophia, pulled back the privacy curtain and stepped inside it, carrying a paper cup of cafeteria coffee. "Oh! Justin!" She flushed.

"Vicki!" He released my hand and hugged her.

From her bed, Sophia flashed me a smug smile. I realized that mama bear had just arrived. Clearly, Sophia was misguided in her beliefs about what her mom could and couldn't do.

Vicki was young. Much younger than I imagined. Had I imagined? I guess I involuntarily had. And I'd been picturing someone more my own parents' age, though that was silly. Because they were parents of a grown daughter, not a preschooler. But it was automatic, wasn't it, to imagine parents being, well, an advanced, experienced parental age?

I would have been surprised if Vicki was as old as I was, though she looked worn with worry. When Jus introduced us, I felt the slight chill of Vicki's disappointment. Had she been hoping to catch Jus, too? Was I the only girl in the world between the ages of three and ninety-three who'd been immune to his charms? Or did she see Jus as a way to provide for her sick child? Could I blame her for that?

Vicki was pretty in a hard, life-worn sort of way. Her face was young and smooth and covered with too much makeup. She would have looked younger and fresher with less. The look in her eyes was old, and almost afraid of getting older. I supposed having a sick child did that to a person. I took it there was no daddy in the picture. And in at least Sophia's mind, Jus was a good candidate.

Vicki shook my hand and sang Justin's praises, wishing us both happiness. "This is a surprise." Her gaze darted between us, landing on Jus. "I didn't know you were serious about someone. Not that it's my business."

"Well, why not?" Jus laughed, but he looked almost embarrassed. "It seems to be everybody else's. It's been all over the news since it happened."

"Oh? Well…" Vicki cleared her throat. "Sophia and I don't watch much except Nickelodeon."

Jus grinned. "That explains it. I don't think it was announced there."

"You'll have to excuse Sophia." Vicki gave her daughter a maternal look full of love and scolding. "She has confused ideas about marriage."

"I do not!" Sophia crossed her arms and frowned. "Justin is still going to marry me when I grow up." Her face softened as her mom gently sat on the bed next to her. "You can marry Mommy first if you want," she said in a completely gracious tone.

I was trying hard not to laugh or smirk. I had to put my hand over my mouth. "He's going to have to get rid of me first," I said, slyly.

Wait a year! Then he'll be free.
And then,
No!
I felt the unexpected revulsion over the thought of losing him as much as I heard the word echo in my mind. The force of that "no" startled me. I was getting more and more possessive of Jus. Which was such a
bad
idea. Mom had always said I had grabby hands, always wanting to keep things to myself and not share.

"Oh, Sophia!" Vicki glanced at me. "Just ignore her. She'll get over it." Vicki tousled her daughter's mop of curly hair. "She's confused in that way little girls have of thinking they're going to grow up and marry Daddy."

Jus laughed. Nervously, I thought. He sat on the other side of Sophia's bed and asked Vicki how they'd been. Only in more detailed nuances than a simple "What's up?" sort of thing. He was Jus. He remembered every little detail about everyone and everything.

Vicki blossomed under his attention and launched into another one of those discussions consisting mostly of medical terms and references to Sophia going to kindergarten in the fall.

I could see where Vicki could get the wrong impression about Justin's interest in her. Like I had at Mom and Dad's when I thought Jus had been stalking me. He was exceptional with his skill to remember personal details. And in Vicki's case, I believed she would have welcomed his attention. She'd read more into it than was there.

And, actually, bad person that I was, I felt a tiny stab of jealousy over how well Sophia and Vicki seemed to know Jus. And how much he seemed to care about them. And how, sitting on either side of Sophia, they almost looked like a couple. One could imagine they were, anyway. And I was standing there, the outsider.

As if he'd read my mind, Jus pulled me close and dragged me into the conversation. "Kay is going to take over our big annual sample sale and fundraising gala for the hospital this year." He beamed. Yes, actually beamed.

I felt myself nearly blush under his praise. And there was a look in his eyes, a searching look. Other than that, he played the part of a young groom in love almost too well.

Vicki was studying me, too. I wondered if we were fooling her. She seemed so wary and suspicious. So I did something I shouldn't have. I ran my hand through Justin's hair, caressed his cheek, and leaned down to give him a soft, sweet kiss on the lips.

If he was startled, he didn't show it. He kissed me back and grinned almost wolfishly at me.

"Jus is almost insanely proud of me." I flashed him a flirty smile. "But I have big plans for it."

I could feel Vicki looking at me in my carefully picked out boutique clothes and jewelry from Flash. I could also swear I could read her mind. And she was thinking I wasn't good enough for Jus.

Sophia looked at me and just blurted out, "You're pretty!"

It seemed so out of the blue and like such a complete change of heart. We all laughed.

Sophia yawned and looked suddenly pale and worn out. Not that she'd been particularly energetic. Not in the way some of my former coworkers' children were. Vicki's face took on a look of alarm. I felt that chill that meant it was time for us to leave.

Jus felt it, too. "We should be going." He patted his backpack. "I have other gifts to distribute."

Sophia gave him a gigantic hug that must have zapped the rest of her strength. "Don't go!"

Jus had to pry her loose again. "I'll be back to visit you another time."

"When I get my new heart?" She looked at him with wondering, hopeful eyes.

I went cold.

Vicki blinked back a tear. Jus just winked at her. "Way before then!"

Later, as we walked back to the car after visiting dozens more sick children, I asked Jus about Sophia. "What's wrong with her heart?"

"Dilated cardiomyopathy."

I frowned, remembering one of the doctors mentioning it and something about forty to fifty percent five-year survival rates. "She's not going to grow up, is she?"

Jus looked away. But not before I caught a glimpse of a tear in his eye. "Without a new heart? Probably not." He paused. "And how can you wish for that when it means some other five-year-old has to die?"

I squeezed Justin's hand and felt myself falling a little bit in love with him. How could you not love a guy who cares so much?

K
ayla

On Friday morning, I got up with surprisingly few butterflies in my stomach and a big dose of excitement. Today was my first official solo TV interview as Justin's wife. I was psyched.

Jus was up early, as usual, and sitting at the breakfast counter finishing a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. While multitasking on his phone. Which I swore was almost surgically attached to him. When I walked into the room, he turned to look at me over his shoulder. His eyes lit up. He spun his barstool around so I could stand between his legs.

As I bent to kiss his uplifted face, he cupped my butt. Right in front of Magda. Who was busy in the kitchen on the other side of the counter. Jus hugged me enthusiastically and nuzzled his head into my breasts. Which he was fond of doing.

He swept a lock of hair behind my ear, wearing a grin that wouldn't quit. Jus always looked so damned happy when we had an audience. We'd fallen into the role of happy couple so easily. It was hard to resist that grin and not smile back.

From the kitchen, Magda smiled knowingly at us, as if she approved, and turned away.

"Happy two-week anniversary!" Jus gave me another quick kiss. If the way he was grabbing me was any indication, he wanted way more than kissing.

"Two weeks already! Wow! Are we oldly-weds now?" I ran my fingers through his hair, smoothing out an errant lock. "Happy anniversary to you, too, babe."

I found it amusing, and sweet, that he was celebrating our weekly anniversaries.

He handed me a jewelry box almost too nonchalantly. "I was going to give you this tonight at dinner." His eyes sparkled. "But then I thought you'd want to wear it on the show. Go ahead. Open it."

I bit my lip. "I didn't know this was a gift-giving holiday. I didn't get you anything—"

"Don't sweat it! I just saw this and thought you'd like it. Open it!"

"You are so impatient!" I pulled the bow off the box. When I opened the lid, I gasped. The most beautiful diamond tennis bracelet sparkled out at me. "Jus—"

I almost said it was too much. I couldn't accept it.

He put a finger to my lips to silence my protest. "Let me help you put it on." He put it on my wrist and fastened the clasp so smoothly, I wondered if he'd practiced.

"Thank you." I kissed him again. I told myself it was expected. But, deep down, I wanted to kiss him. More and more often.

"Do you have everything you need for the show? Did Marla make sure you have the giveaways for the audience? Of course, they're only crystal, not diamonds."

I nodded. "Andrea picked them up yesterday while we were at the hospital. Andrea is amazing! So efficient, calm, and competent. I think she's trying to impress Lazer."

A nearly imperceptible wrinkle formed between Justin's eyes. Lazer lending me an assistant was a sore spot with him. "Yeah.
Everyone
tries to impress Lazer."

By everyone, I assumed he meant me.

"A future permanent position for Andrea is on the line." I ignored his dig and tried not to sound too defensive.

Jus looked immediately sorry for bringing it up and gave me a playful pat on the butt. "Just watch yourself around her. I'm sure she reports everything back to Lazer. We have a spy in our midst!" He made a joke out of it. But he was serious.

I knew enough to keep my mouth shut. And keep our game on.

"Wish I could make it to the show."

I shook my head. "If you did, you would probably be the
only
guy in the audience. Sunshine Sheri's demographic skews heavily female. And as Sheri's assistant described this episode to me, it's a summer wedding theme. Like Sheri is fond of doing. I'm supposedly the expert and will be tasting wedding cake samples and giving tips." I shook my head. "As if I know anything about planning a wedding! We eloped."

Magda glanced over at us.

"You have great taste and you know delicious cake when you eat it—what more do you need?" Jus said with obvious pride.

I shook my head at him.

"I'm still sorry to miss it. I'm set up to record it. Break a leg!" He gently rubbed my arm.

"I don't think you tell interviewees to break legs," I said.

He winked, giving me a look that made my heart melt. It was so damned full of love and happiness. How the hell did he put that on? He never looked at me like that when no one was around. I was beginning to imagine I was hallucinating it. A desperate woman thirsty for love? Was I becoming one of those decoy brides who actually fell in love with her husband? And looked for whatever signs and hope she could find?

It would serve me right, I supposed. But at other times I wondered if all this pretending to be in love had simply gone to my head. Could my heart actually be starting to think it was real?

Jus glanced at his phone. "Shit! I have to be going." He downed the rest of his orange juice.

I walked him to the door.

He hesitated.

"Yes?" I said.

He looked so damnably nervous and adorable. "Mom's been texting. Begging me, coercing me, using all her motherly guilt-inducing tactics, to bring you to Naples for the last of the rugby season. She wants us to spend a few days with them before they finish their last summer rugby tournament. Meet Dad and my brothers. See the family biz in action."

He skimmed my arm with the backs of his fingers, looking at the floor. And then at me apologetically from beneath his lashes. "It will be trial by fire. But it's
not
a bad idea. We could take a few extra days and go down the Amalfi Coast. Make a mini-honeymoon out of it. Before the craziness of the fall shopping and the run-up to the Christmas season. Once fall hits, it's chaos at Flash until the mid-January retail dead zone."

He was nervous about trying to convince me to go to Italy with him? Was he kidding? I'd always wanted to go to the Amalfi Coast. Even if it meant dealing with his family in Naples first. "Yes."

He hesitated like he was only halfway through a prepared speech. "Really? Naples is a dirty city. And my brothers will give us both a ton of shit."

I nodded. "Going to Italy is on my list."

His face relaxed. "We could stop by Milan on the way. Check out a few of the Italian designers Flash has been eyeing. I could use your opinion."

I grabbed his arm. "I would absolutely love that!"

He smiled. "Great. I was thinking we'd take a private jet to Milan. From there to Genoa. On to Naples for a few. Then hire a car down the coast. Or rent a yacht for day or two."

I was already dreaming about it. A honeymoon was a great idea. It added authenticity to our marriage. "Sounds wonderful to me!"

His answering grin was positively boyish and charming. "We'll do it, then! I'll text Mom and get Ophie to make the arrangements and get back to you." He gave me a parting kiss and was finally out the door before I could protest.

Ophie? That wasn't going to go over well.

Magda had been bustling around, conspicuously busy and
not
listening to our conversation. She'd been bursting to say something all morning. Once Jus was gone, she let loose. "Mr. Jus never does interviews!"

I couldn't tell whether she was condemning him or me or what. But I was glad she'd been concentrating on the interview and not our vacation.

"He should. He really should!" I said with that burst-of-pride voice. Where had it come from? "He would be fantastic at them! He shouldn't let Riggins hog all the spotlight all the time. You should have seen Jus at the hospital yesterday, Magda. He charmed everyone!"

Magda had been slowly warming to me day by day. Since I'd followed her advice and changed my name, I'd gotten on her good side. She smiled approvingly—at both my sentiment and the way I was gushing about Jus—and nodded. "That's what I say! But will he listen?"

I took a sip of coffee. "Are you sure you don't want to come backstage with me and that new personal assistant, Andrea, that Lazer sent over to help me? If you're lucky, you might get a chance to meet Sunshine Sheri." I singsonged the last bit, trying to entice her.

Magda brushed my suggestion aside. "No, thanks! I'll be much happier in the audience. But maybe I could just get her autograph
after
the show."

Sunshine Sheri was the affectionate nickname Seattle gave
Northwest Mornings
host Sheri Carmichael. She'd picked up the moniker when she'd begun her career as a weather girl during the record-breaking hot, dry Seattle June of 1992. I, of course, was barely born, so I didn't remember it. All this was according to her LinkedIn bio. Not the nickname bit. The part about the start of her career. The name stuck, in large part, because of her upbeat attitude and sunny smile.

Magda loved her and watched her daily morning show while she cleaned the penthouse and attended to her duties. She was something of a Sunshine Sheri fanatic. Since I'd gotten the interview, she'd worked Sheri any way she could work into conversation, subtly or, in most cases, obviously. It was getting pretty hilarious, really. I'd had no choice but to invite her along and get her a ticket in the studio audience.

Sheri was an aging star now, in TV terms, and relegated to the semi-popular morning show that did puff pieces, human interest, and public service announcements. She was the friendly, perky TV host talking to minor celebrities and locals of note. She did a weekly segment with a local gardening expert, cooking pieces with regionally known top chefs, that kind of thing. Going on her show was like being tossed a slow-pitch softball by someone who wanted you to get a home run. There was no reason for nerves. How could anyone be afraid when they had Sheri to make them look good?

Three hours later, Sheri's makeup and wardrobe people did a last-minute touchup to me backstage while Sheri gave me a glowing introduction to her audience. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm so pleased. The theme of today's show is one of my favorites—summer weddings! Well, it's June, so what else could we do?"

She flirted expertly with the audience. "Our special guest today is the summer bride of the season. Please welcome the new bride everyone is talking about. And every single Seattle girl wishes she were. Come on out, Kayla! Ladies and gentlemen—"

Gentlemen? I peered out at the crowd from backstage, looking for one. Were there any gentlemen? Or even any regular guys, gentlemanlike or not?

"I give you Mrs. Justin Green!" Sheri clapped.

That was my cue. One of Sheri's crew checked my mic a final time.

Andrea gave me a gentle push toward the stage. "You're on! Relax. You'll be great!"

I walked across the stage, smiling and waving to the studio audience while they applauded politely. Sheri's producer had given me a brief two days ago, asking me to dress like a guest at a summer wedding. The perfect outfit had come to mind immediately.

I was wearing my favorite, flirty little yellow dress I'd gotten off Flashionista shortly before we "got married." And a pair of spectacular platform sandals in nude with rhinestone bows that Jus had brought home for me from the merch buyers stock of samples specifically to wear on the show. The shoes were going to be featured on the Flash site this very day. We hoped me wearing them would be good for sales. I looked so much like the quintessential Flashionista girl. I could have stepped from the pages of their daily digital catalogue.

Sheri greeted me with a hug. "Look at you! Beautiful! Just like a young bride should be. Doesn't she look fabulous?" She turned to the audience for confirmation.

More applause.

I hadn't had a chance to meet Sheri before the show. Some last-minute emergency she had to attend to. Usually, at least in every show I'd seen, Sheri was dressed in something seasonally fun and stylish. Today, like me, she was dressed as a fashionable wedding guest. Flash's stylists had sent a selection of outfits over for Sheri. In exchange for a sponsor thanks at the end of the show. It had been my suggestion. The more advertising, the better.

I recognized the dress she was wearing as the most severe of the selection. We'd sent her everything from whimsical and flirty, to staid and traditional. Although the flared skirt of her dress gave it a fun air, she erred on the side of staid and traditional. To the point she could decently be confused for a newsroom anchor. Her hair was up in a severe, businesslike French twist. A few loose tendrils would have softened it. I itched to pull a few free. Even her lipstick was darker than usual.

She took a seat on the sofa and patted the place next to her, smiling brightly. I should have felt surprisingly at ease. Sheri had that bubbly, enthusiastic way that makes for good TV. But something felt off to me. I hoped she wasn't having a bad day.

As I smiled at the audience, Magda gave me a thumbs-up from the front row.

I had a communications minor and had done some work with the university's TV station, so I wasn't a complete neophyte. I knew all about sound bites and how words and quotes could be taken out of context. I was representing Flashionista and Jus as much as myself. So I was properly armed for battle. Not like it seemed like there was going to be one. Sheri was perfectly pleasant and always harmless. But I was ready for anything.

"Kayla, best wishes from all of us! You're the envy of every single girl in Seattle right now. Their inspiration. You came out of nowhere and snagged one of Seattle's most eligible, and richest, bachelors. I have it on good authority from a friend of mine, a confidential source, who works for the magazine that makes the yearly list of Seattle's hottest bachelors, that she's devastated. So much of her work down the drain now. Justin was going to be featured as one of Seattle's hottest men this September, right along with, shall we say"—Sheri winked—"several of his friends who've received the honor in past years. You've ruined her story." She paused.

Jus made the list? Really? Before I got my hands on him and prettied him up? That seemed like a stretch. Was I supposed to answer? Defend myself? I smiled and shrugged good-naturedly. "Love happens!"

Sheri nodded sagely. "Well, I think we can at least partly attribute Justin's new, hot look to you. Pictures of him since your marriage show a happy, well-groomed,
well
-dressed guy. Quite a difference from a few months ago. We're all dying to hear what it's like to go from rags to riches?"