Mikalo's Fate (The Mikalo Chronicles) (2 page)

"How are things with --?"

She raised a hand, silencing me. Her impending divorce was something we didn't talk about. And the guilt I was feeling about my upcoming wedding to Mikalo was eating at me. That I would be so happy and so in love when my dearest friend, my family, really, was struggling through the death of her marriage was one of life's many little "fuck you"s.

Surprisingly, she spoke.

"It's happening," she began, her eyes fixed on her plate. "No turning back. It's decided, there's no reconciliation, or even a desire for one, really. It's over. All that's left is deciding who gets how much of what."

"Will you keep the apartment?"

After a moment, she shrugged.

"I don't know, to be honest with you," she finally said.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure I even really want it or need it or absolutely have to have it, you know? We could sell it, split the money, and I could buy a smaller place somewhere else."

Oh my god, the thought of Deni not in New York filled me with panic. I know she's a big girl and can make her own decisions and live where she wants and that she didn't have to do something just to make me happy.

But I loved her in New York. The city, my home, wouldn't be the same without her.

"Of course I'd stay in New York," she then said.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

She smiled.

"As if I'd ever leave," she said with a wink.

"I'd be lost without you, babe," I said, my eyes growing wet with tears.

"Well, you're the one going off to Greece to get married!"

I laughed.

"And you're the one standing by my side when I say 'I do', so ..."

"Can't wait," she said and then dug into her hash browns.

"So," she continued between bites, "how you feeling about meeting Mikalo's family? His grandmother --"

"His Nona," I interrupted, using Mikalo's favorite name for her.

"Right, his Nona is infamous in European social circles."

"How so?" I asked, sincerely intrigued.

"Bit of a wild woman in her younger years. Was in desperate love with one, had a forced marriage to another one only to have him die under mysterious circumstances. She got his money, and I mean all his money, making her one of the wealthiest south of Paris, married a second very soon after. Now she's like some Dowager Empress ruling everyone and everything with an iron fist. That Mikalo was allowed to all but move to the States shows just how much he has her twisted around his finger."

"I don't know, D. Mikalo has already warned me that his family didn't sound very happy about us. So I'm not exactly expecting to be greeted with open arms."

"And if you're not?"

I gave a small shrug.

"We still get married and I become the despised daughter-in-law. No big deal. I played that part before."

"Right," Deni said. "But your first husband was a douchebag, so he doesn't really count, right?"

I sighted, looking out the window at the crowds passing along Madison Avenue. As much as I'd like to, I'd never be able to escape the ghost of my first marriage.

The fantasy cracking in two. The insults, the silence, the abuse. The quiet, unrelenting cruelty. His unexpected death as he swerved off the road and plummeted into a ravine, landing at the bottom in a fireball which lit the night sky.

"You're getting a new beginning," Deni then interrupted, recognizing at once where my mind had drifted and knowing, as always, the perfect thing to say. "A new beginning with a great guy. Someone who loves you despite your many faults and my many complaints."

She smiled.

I laughed.

"So true," I then said, pushing the dark storm clouds far, far away.

"When do you leave?" she asked.

"In three days."

"You ready for this?"

I sipped my orange juice, considering the question.

Of course I was ready. I loved Mikalo. I mean, I truly, sincerely loved the guy. Would give my life for him. We fit. We clicked. There was an indefinable something between us I no longer questioned or worried about or even really thought of anymore. It just was and we just were.

Of course it wasn't perfect. And I had no doubt we'd hit rough spots in the years to come. Heck, we'd probably hit rough spots over the next three weeks!

But there wasn't anything that could make me lose what I felt for him. It was a part of me now. He was a part of me, like my blood, my breath, my heart.

"Yes," I finally said, answering Deni's question. "Yes, I am."

"I'm sorry," he said again.

"No, no, it's okay," I repeated, my elbows propped on the desk as I watched Bill seated across from me, his hands apologetically clasped in his lap like a schoolboy who was caught eyeing the cookie jar. "Things happen, things come up, it's not the end of the world. Really."

"I really, really wanted to be there. Really," he said. "But with this new account and the mountain of work plus, as you know, Mara Byzan skipping out and --"

"You think I don't know exactly what you're talking about?" I interrupted with a laugh. "Please, no explanation necessary. It's just sweet you were willing to make the trip. Really, it was."

"I was going to walk you down the aisle, Ronan," he said.

I paused, not sure what to say.

In truth, this was all news to me. Of course I wanted Bill at my wedding. But it hadn't even occurred to me that he'd spring a surprise by walking me down the aisle.

It really would have been perfect.

He continued.

"Not like you asked me or I was invited to give you away or anything. But, yeah, I was going to put your arm in mine and walk you down the aisle.

"It just kills me that there's no father or father figure or someone to take your arm and be with you."

"I'll be fine."

"I know you'll be fine," Bill continued. "Of course you'll be fine. This isn't about that. It's about tradition and feeling loved and knowing you're loved. It's my hand on your arm as you take these steps into a new life. Of being there and being with you and sharing it with you. That's what it's about.

"Of course you'll be fine, Ronan," he continued. "The world could collapse in a heap of rubble and you'd be fine."

I grinned, willing the lump in my throat to go away.

He was right, of course. Life had kicked me more times than not and yet, still, I was standing.

And I hadn't even allowed myself to consider the hurt I felt at not having someone to walk me down the aisle, my father's absence an open sore still staining my soul. If there was anyone perfect for that role, it was Bill Blazen, my colleague, my friend, my pseudo-father figure.

Though I would never say it, I now really wish he were coming.

"We're catching this all on video, I think," I then said weakly.

He smiled and shook his head, a small laugh on his lips.

"Maybe Mikalo has a brother ...?" he asked, before the thought trailed off.

"Ah, it's no big deal," I quickly said. "I'll get down the aisle one way or the other. What's important is that I make it to Mikalo, not who walks with me."

And then I smiled.

Thankfully, he smiled in return.

"Don't let it bother you, okay?" I asked.

He nodded.

"It's a really big time for you right now," he said. "House in renovation, shacking up at a hotel, --"

I couldn't help but laugh.

"Shacking up?"

"Yeah, why not?" he added with a small laugh. "And pre-marriage! I mean, seriously, Rona, you're two steps from being a trollop."

More laughter.

"So, anyway, there's a lot happening," he continued. "How are you doing?"

I wiped tears from my eyes.

"I'm fine," I finally said.

"Good, good," he said, nodding his head with a smile. "Me? I'd be freaking out, but I'm not you, so ... "

He shrugged.

"It is a lot," I agreed. "But it's all good. All of it. And there's no one better to walk this with than Mikalo. He keeps me centered and strong. Focused. He doesn't let me worry myself sick or doubt what we have. He couldn't be better."

"Oh, I have no doubt Mikalo is as perfect as ever."

"Well, I wouldn't say perfect --"

"I'm more worried about how everyone else is dealing with this," he interrupted. "Have you even talked with his family? His friends? Getting married, for someone of his stature and with his family's wealth, it's usually a much longer process. He really pulled the trigger with this one."

"You're right," I said. "He pulled the trigger. I had nothing to do with what he decided and when.

"To be honest with you," I continued, "I was shocked. But the answer couldn't have been anything but yes."

He sat back, gently chewing the inside of his cheek while he thought.

"What?" I asked.

"They're doing opposition research on you now as we speak."

"Opposition research? Who?"

"His family. Other families. Those angry that you snagged him and they, or their daughters, didn't. Checking you out, digging through your past, your secrets, your finances. Figuring out who you are and what you're after."

"They won't find much."

"Good," he then said. "I didn't think so. Let's just hope they won't be able to spin what they do find into something that it isn't."

"I doubt they'd do that."

"Who?" he asked. "Mikalo's family?"

"Yeah. His decision is his and even if his family turns their backs on him -- which they won't, by the way --, we'd still marry."

"What about all those other families with eligible daughters who have been angling for years to marry the oh so famous, stinking rich, drop dead gorgeous Mikalo? You don't think they're getting their hands dirty trying to find a way to discredit you?"

I actually hadn't thought of that.

And other than Mara Byzan, I can't think of anyone who'd care enough to bother.

"You didn't think of that, did you?" he asked with a smile.

"I can't believe anyone would bother."

He laughed again.

"Billionaire heir to a famously wealthy family. Handsome, charming, doesn't drink or do drugs. Solid, upstanding. He's a great catch.

"And you?" he continued. "In their world you're a nobody. A woman who had to go to school to get a decent job and has to work to pay the bills. Despite doing very well financially, you're like an alien from outer space to these people.

"In their eyes, you don't belong, won't ever belong, and don't deserve Mikalo.

"So, yes, there are those out there who will try to dig up dirt and, failing that, make whatever did happen look as horrible as possible. Anything to instill doubt in Mikalo."

He paused before speaking again.

"Is there anything they could find?"

I shook my head.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," I finally said.

"Good to know. Still ... "

I nodded, silently agreeing that Mikalo should get a heads-up. Know about everything that's ever happened that could be skewed in a negative light.

Sitting back, I watched Bill watching me, my mind racing.

What in the world could they find that would jeopardize what Mikalo and I shared?

She stood next to me, her expression stern, her jet black hair gathered into a painfully tight bun, her make-up as kabuki-like as ever.

And this elevator was taking forever.

Still, my shoes looked nice, my eyes firmly on the supple leather and delicate strap of my Jimmy Choos as I tried to avoid Abby.

Impossible.

I glanced again.

She caught my eye.

I caught hers.

Bizarrely, I offered a small smile.

Shockingly, her red lips curled into a grin.

"Hello, Abby," I said, my voice sounding weak.

I cleared my throat.

Another small grin from the dragon with the red lips.

"Ronan," she replied, the vowels long, the word stretched, each syllable hit like a gong, my name in her mouth dripping with condescension. The kind of weary patience one showed an irritable toddler.

"You're well?" I asked.

Her eyes on mine, she offered an almost imperceptible nod, a perfectly drawn eyebrow rising gently.

"Good, good," I then said, falling silent.

She stood watching me.