The Organized Bride (Billionaire Marriage Brokers Book 2) (6 page)

Chapter 9

Gabe spent the rest of the afternoon fielding phone calls and emails full of congratulations while he attempted to catch up on the pile in his inbox. Grateful they hadn’t gone the traditional route of inviting hundreds of guests to a reception, he thanked everyone and told them that
in lieu of gifts, the happy couple would love a donation made to one of their favorite charities (listed below).

The work day wound down, and Gabe got more keyed up. This morning, his marriage had seemed like an innocent white lie, as if he were an actor playing the part of a husband. Now, with the whole world treating it as if it were real, there was no way to take off the stage makeup and go back to his old life. This was forever going to be a part of his history, the lines written in permanent ink. He prayed it would be a highlight, something that he would eventually be proud to rehearse. But in his gut, it felt wrong not to have MaKayla there with him. Married couples should be together—not every moment of every day, but they should come home and connect. Each note of congratulations brought a new level of guilt. The only way to alleviate it would be to be with MaKayla and act like a husband—and he couldn’t do that, because it would be weird.

He jammed his hands into his hair. There had to be a balance; he just wasn’t sure how to go about finding it.

“You’ve had a busy day,” said David as he plopped down in the chair across from Gabe. Lacing his fingers behind his head, he kicked his feet out in front of him and crossed his ankles. “Getting married this morning, dropping your new wife like a bomb on the company, and now what, heading out for a romantic dinner for two?”

Gabe kept his eyes on his computer screen, as he wrapped up his email. It was better if people didn’t know the particulars of his marriage, so he gave David a smirk but didn’t comment.

“C’mon, boss, quittin’ time.”

“Why? Are you in a hurry?”

“Yep. I got me a hot date and I don’t want to be late.” David tugged at his collar.

Gabe gave him a disbelieving glare. “It’s Wednesday. Since when do you go out on Wednesday nights?”

“Since you proved that even Wednesdays can be full of possibilities.” David stood up and rapped his knuckles on the desk. “Nice suit, by the way.”

Gabe looked down at his wedding suit and smiled. He had to hand it to MaKayla: the suit was the perfect combination of rebel and business appropriate. The longer he wore it, the more he liked it.

As he shut down his computer and grabbed his car keys out of the top desk drawer, he smiled. MaKayla had a lot more going for her than her style. Her poise in taking over that meeting this afternoon was commendable, and the way she handled Sharon with firm politeness was spot on. You couldn’t give that woman an inch or she’d take a mile, but if she was on your side, she’d fight for you like a mother bear.

Gabe sagged under another wave of guilt. He’d called MaKayla out during the meeting and he shouldn’t have. There was no way for her to know where the money would come from; she’d barely had fifteen minutes in the car to look things over. Besides, his question could have waited. Instead of reflecting on the situation, he’d reacted out of fear and protectiveness. The money from this year’s run would finally allow the Boys’ and Girls’ Center for Healing to open a branch on the east side of town, where it could do so much good for abused kids.

Gabe’s fears were dumb, because he hired—married MaKayla to watch over these things. He shouldn’t feel the need to protect the funds from the person who oversaw them. Gabe wasn’t a therapist, but he was aware enough to realize Natasha was still controlling his actions and reactions. The best way to get rid of her influence would be to change his focus—to wipe her from his thoughts. Actually doing that would take some practice.

The elevator ride went quickly, and when Gabe opened the car door he was hit with the sweet smell of roses. Cursing under his breath, he looked at the bouquet on MaKayla’s seat.

What am I supposed to do with that?

It was obvious—even to Gabe, who knew nothing about flowers or women who loved flowers enough to buy them in big bunches and carry them around—that MaKayla cared about the ribbon-wrapped flora. Nodding to himself, he decided one way to get rid of Natasha’s leverage would be by focusing on the new woman in his life. Not that he thought of MaKayla as a woman—she was a woman—a beautiful woman—but what he meant was that he should focus on his new investment. Doing something nice for MaKayla would take his mind off all the horrible thoughts Natasha inspired. Out with the negative and in with the positive.

Pulling out his phone, he did a quick search for ways to preserve a bouquet. The first site wanted him to press the flowers between two heavy books using wax paper. Eyeing the bundle, he decided that he didn’t have books big enough to fit around the whole thing. Shoot, he didn’t even know if he had wax paper.

The next site was just as bad. It told him to hang the bouquet upside down for up to a month, checking periodically for bugs. That was not at all appealing.

The third site offered professional preservation services for a fee. It just so happened that they were located fairly close to a Chinese restaurant he favored. He found their number in his contacts and ordered takeout as he pulled into traffic. If he hurried, he could make it before the preservation shop closed, have dinner in the car, and be home in time to catch the last half of the basketball game.

Passing MaKayla’s hotel on the way home, Gabe felt a stab of guilt—again. Would this roller coaster never stop? MaKayla was working two jobs to make this marriage work, and he was going home to relax. It didn’t feel like the best way to start things out between them—all lopsided. On impulse, he swung into the hotel entrance, grabbed the takeout from the passenger seat, and left his car with the valet.

It took him a few minutes to find MaKayla in the ballroom. She’d changed into a black suit with a white shirt, and if it weren’t for the headset attached to her ear, she would have blended in with the support staff. He shook his head—that wasn’t right, because MaKayla didn’t blend in at all. Her gypsy eyes and natural grace set her apart.

She pressed her hand to her other ear to block out sound as she concentrated on listening to whoever was trying to come through on her headset. She looked flushed, and as she pressed her bottled water to her forehead, he wondered if her headache had gotten worse.

Sticking to the outer edges of the room, he made his way around to where MaKayla talked to the bartender. “Watch table three,” she was saying. “Water it down a bit, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on them.”

“Thanks.”

Coming behind her, Gabe touched her elbow to get her attention. “Hey.”

When MaKayla’s eyes met his, her smile went from pageant queen to girl next door, and Gabe’s chest puffed out a bit.
Natasha who?

“What are you doing here?” Her eyes darted around the room, and Gabe wondered if he’d made a mistake.

“You hardly touched your lunch, and I thought you might be hungry.” He held up the paper bag with the restaurant’s logo on the front. There was always enough for two or three, depending on how hungry he was.

“Thanks, but I’m stuck here for at least another hour. After the speeches, I have a little break before it’s time to clean up.” She pressed her water to her cheek.

From this close up, Gabe could see the flush to her skin and the heaviness in her eyelids. He touched her forehead with the back of his fingers. “You feel warm.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ve been running nonstop since I arrived.”

“Did you take medication for your headache?”

She nodded. “Right after I left your office.”

He quickly counted the hours. “That was over six hours ago.” It was a good thing he’d stopped in. MaKayla was running herself into the ground.

“Was it? I’ve been so busy, I haven’t paid attention.”

Gabe sensed MaKayla was the type to put her own needs on the bottom of her to-do list. She was good at what she did because she focused on her work. However, someone needed to take care of her or she’d run out of steam. “I’ll go get you something from the hotel shop.”

“Thanks.”

Gabe was off before MaKayla could change her mind. When he got to the small shop, he was dismayed to see they had several different options, and he had no idea what type of medicine MaKayla usually took. Instead of trying to pick something out for her, and probably picking the wrong thing, he bought one of every kind. When he presented them to MaKayla, she laughed, though it was heavy with fatigue.

“Do you own stock in pharmaceuticals or something?” She selected a regular strength ibuprofen.

“Actually, I do. They have a fantastic return rate.” Gabe mentally cringed at the shocked look on her face. He wasn’t trying to throw his money in her face, yet it probably came across that way.

“Oh.” MaKayla struggled to open the heavy plastic surrounding the minimum dosage pills.

“Do you want something stronger?” he asked before he dumped the rest of the packages into the takeout bag he was still carrying around.

“No. This will have to do.”

He took the package from her and ripped it open. Dumping the pills into her hand, he felt as though he was overstaying his welcome, but wasn’t ready to leave her until he knew she would be okay. “I’m going to head to the bar and eat my dinner. When you’re done here, come find me and I’ll make sure you get home.”

“That’s not necessary. You already got me a driver.”

Was it his imagination, or was that a polite brush-off? “Let’s let him get home.”

“Oh, all right. But I’m not sure how long I’ll be.”

Was she trying to get rid of him
? He took in her clipboard and headset. Probably not. She was just used to having the answers. Well, she didn’t have to be “on shift” for him all the time. He wanted her to feel comfortable around him. They’d be spending the majority of their time together, and keeping a professional relationship would make things awkward. Besides, after seeing the way she gave her all, a part of him wanted to take care of her. “Don’t worry about it.”

MaKayla’s earpiece beeped, and she shrugged before running off toward the back room to take care of some emergency.

Gabe found the hotel bar. As he walked in with his takeout food, the bartender gave him a look that said, “I don’t think so.” Instead of sneaking over to a corner booth and ignoring the guy, Gabe walked right up to him and placed the bag on the marble counter. “Hey, how’s your night?”

The guy looked around the place and shrugged. “Could be worse.”

“Listen, I need a favor. I’m here until my wife’s done in the ballroom. I’m starving, and I’m missing the game.”

The guy chuckled.

Gabe noted his nametag. “I will buy a round for everyone in this place and make it worth your while to turn on that TV and find the game, so I can catch the last quarter while I eat my cold Chinese food. What do you say, Brian?”

Brain used a bar towel to wipe off the counter. “I was looking for an excuse to turn the game on myself.” When Brian smiled, his teeth were so white that Gabe blinked.

“Thanks, man.”

As Gabe pulled out paper boxes with wire handles, Brian went to work mixing and distributing free drinks to the people at the tables. There were only two couples and a few stragglers, so it wasn’t that big of a deal to buy a round. However, the group was appreciative. With a minute left in double overtime, Gabe found himself surrounded by a new group of friends, feeding off his excitement and thanking him for the free drinks.

At that point, MaKayla pressed through the intimate crowd and slid onto the stool next to him. Slumping into the seat, she looked half-dead. Gabe’s stomach sank; he wasn’t doing a very good job taking care of her. She waved away his offer for chow mien.

What she needed was sleep, and in order for that to happen, Gabe needed to get her home. Just as he stood up to escort her out to his car, his team made the winning bucket and the group exploded. MaKayla cringed, no doubt feeling the cheers like a prize fighter feels punches to the head.

He quickly handed Brian his credit card and put his jacket back on. As he signed the credit card slip, MaKayla packed up his leftovers. He couldn’t believe that as bad as she felt, she was taking care of him. He simply stared. Did she even realize that with each movement she was draining her reserves? Was there a selfish bone in her body? Gently taking her arm, he held his breath, waiting to see if she would accept his help. She kept her back straight and didn’t lean into him, but she didn’t pull away.

He shook his head. MaKayla was as independent as any woman he had ever met. In his experience, women like that had hard shells. Shells that were easy to bounce off of, but difficult to crack.

Once they were in the car, he checked her temperature again by pressing his hand against her forehead. She shivered even though she was burning up.

“What’s your address?”

MaKayla told him, and he put it into his GPS, then turned the sound down so it was barely audible and wouldn’t bother MaKayla.

Her condo was in a nice neighborhood, and the area was well-kept. He opened her door but didn’t offer to help her inside. “If you need to take tomorrow off to get better, I’ll understand.”