Boxed Set: The His Submissive Series Complete Collection (Part One-Part Twelve) (65 page)

I looked at him, stroking his knee, seeing how riled up he was getting. Was she really so oblivious that she couldn’t see the negative effect she was having on him?

“You don't mean that,” she said in a huff.

“Why did you want to meet us here?” He spoke every word distinctly, a warning in his tone.

Her patrician features were tight. Genuinely taken aback. If I didn’t know her I’d almost feel bad. She walked through the door legitimately expecting a warm reception. Like we’d chat it up over coffee even though she’d done nothing but treat her son like crap and tried to drive a wedge between the two of us.

Her mouth was slightly open, flabbergasted. “I wanted to start over.”

“Just like that?” Jacob said acidly. “You woke up and decided what, we’re supposed to act like nothing has happened?
I’m
supposed to act like nothing happened?”

She sat back slightly, her cheeks reddening. “No, I just...I’m...”

Holy crap. Was she really about to use the ‘s’ word? I leaned forward, not believing it. Needing to hear it.

“I’m sorry.” She faced me. “You’ve been kind to me, nicer than I’ve ever been to you. I had no right treat you the way I have.” She slowly turned her attention to Jacob. “Son, I-”

Her voice cracked and I felt Jacob’s muscles tense. I cautioned a look at his face and he was struggling to act like he could care less about whatever she was about to say, but he cared. His chin trembled slightly before he tore his eyes away from her and looked at me.

I looked into his eyes and saw the question. If he could trust her. If she would hurt him again. I didn't have an answer for him, but I gazed back and told him what I knew with absolute certainty. That I loved him and I’d be there. No matter what.

His chin stilled and he glanced back at her, holding my hand and waiting for his mother to collect herself.

Alicia sniffled, her gray eyes wet with tears. “I can’t change the past and the things I’ve done to you, Jacob. I am truly sorry.”

The silence hung between us. She looked at him hopefully, but he didn’t say a thing. Surely she didn't expect to apologize and have him take her in his arms, all the terrible things forgiven, just like that. Even if he loved her and wanted to believe she meant it, it would take time.

She went to her purse, ruffling through the contents. “You don’t have to say anything. Either of you.” She pulled out a small square box.

I gasped, recognizing the size and shape.

A ring box.

Jacob’s voice was barely audible. “Is that—?”

“Your grandmother’s ring,” she finished, a tear weaving down her cheek. “She would have wanted you to have it. And if she knew what I’d done...” She shivered, like she felt a chill. If ghosts were a real thing, Jacob’s grandmother would have haunted her ass relentlessly.

Alicia wiped away her tear with her free hand and with the other, held out the box to Jacob. “It’s yours. It should have always been yours.”

Part Eleven

"Y
ou ready for this?"

I should have been the one asking him that because he didn't sound remotely ready for what was waiting on the other side of the door.

Jacob's usually authoritative voice was unsteady. Nervous. The man had taken on squirrely investors, paparazzi and Rachel Laraby like a Spartan charging into battle, but he paused at the entrance to The Vineyard. He paid no mind to the staff, perky and already springing to action as they pulled open the heavy oak doors to the restaurant. He looked beyond them warily, like he could already see his mother, smiling brightly as she secretly plotted some way to break his heart all over again.

To the outside world he was the picture of cool sophistication. His dark waves were tamed and pushed back, highlighting his good genes. There was no missing his signature, strong jaw, bright blue eyes and lips that would make any woman's cheeks redden as she thought up ways to put them to good use. His crisp, two-piece suit commanded attention and if it wasn't for the staff providing a buffer, the paparazzi were more than willing to oblige. Usually, he'd trade barbs since he knew most of them by name, but not today.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to chicken out," I said, my lips curling at the sides.
Comic relief—that’s what this situation needs
.

He gave me a single look that would have reduced anyone else to a bumbling mess, but I didn't even blink until he dropped the hard ass routine and his mouth tilted into a smirk.

"Chicken out? No—there's just other things I'd like to do..."

I felt every single
dot dot dot
as blue eyes worked their way around the curves of my body before settling back on the weakening resolve in my eyes. I was pretty sure I knew where the conversation was headed. Other things he'd like to do...to me.

And I wouldn't put up a fight. We'd already spent most of the morning in some manner of undress and all it took from him was a single look, heck, a single
word
and I was quivering and wet.

He roped a hand around my waist and I didn't even have time to say a word before he gripped my ass.

The cameras went wild.

My face was already on fire but I didn't look up to nonverbally ask if he really wanted our picture of the day to be one where he was copping a feel; we were both nervous as hell about this meeting so I considered making another joke or stepping it up a notch and really giving them something to photograph, but my face fell when I saw his.

His expression was a raw, exposed nerve. One look into his sea-blue eyes and I learned it was much more than jittery nervousness. He was like a man about to walk to his execution.

Jacob's apprehension was understandable. It had only been a few days since Alicia pulled the stick from her ass and handed over his grandmother's ring. After awkwardly going our separate ways, we'd speculated how things would change. His money was on Alicia acting like nothing happened, stepping into our lives as if she hadn’t been adamantly against our relationship. Mine was on her judging us from a distance. She was worthy of sainthood since she deigned to give up the ring, and now she would suffer in near silence until we learned our lessons.

Unfortunately, Jacob was right.

Not even twenty-four hours after the apology a barrage of texts, calls, and emails bombarded us both. It was like she was literally trying to make up for lost time. She was always apologetic, but after finally letting it go to voicemail it was obvious that she wasn’t going anywhere. When she’d suggested meeting for lunch to talk about the wedding I said yes before Jacob could get a word out, mostly because I figured it would be an hour or so that I wasn’t staring at my cell, waiting for it to light up with some new concept she wanted to share.

Now that we were here, I entertained thoughts of coming down with a spontaneous bug. Or maybe I could use the paparazzi; there was always one that went too far and made their subject snap. I could go all Bjork on their ass and then lunch with Mommy Dearest would
definitely
be canceled.

The owner of The Vineyard hustled out, dressed in a two piece suit of her own with stars in her eyes—and she drew a good number of eyes to the front entrance.

There'd be no backing out now.

"Mr. Whitmore," she gushed, her teeth as blaring white as the platinum blond hair pulled into a high bun on her head. "It's truly a pleasure." She shook his hand, lingering, like she was trying to savor the contact. She remembered herself and glanced at me with embarrassment setting fire to her cheeks. When she held out her hand, her face apologetic and slightly worried I'd be pissed, I shook hers with a smile. In the past it might have made me roll my eyes or bring my defenses up as I moved closer and marked my territory, but I felt no need. He put a ring on it and I knew when Jacob made a commitment, he meant it. Besides, we'd survived too much for me to act the fool just because some random woman had a crush.

"Mrs. Whitmore is already inside," the owner said, back in business mode. "If you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask. My staff and I are at your disposal."

Jacob gave her a crisp nod and looked down at me, slipping the mask of armor back on. "Shall we?"

Stepping inside of The Vineyard made my heart swell in my chest. The rich colors, the walls lined with wine bottles, the rustic furnishings—everything about it took me back to Venice. I didn't miss the parallels: Venice was me and Jacob’s beginning. Alicia was trying to make this
our
new beginning.

Our host guided us to our table and I took a deep breath as Alicia saw us and rose to her feet. An older woman was beside her, plunking out a final word on her iPhone before she gave us a quick smile and her face went serious. Alicia was gushing like she hadn't seen us in months. I shook Alicia’s hand and watched as the Awkward O-Meter ticked up to ‘run and hide’ as she moved to hug Jacob and he took a step backward, giving her a look that made me shiver.

Surely she didn’t expect that to go over well, but the crestfallen look that flashed across her face said otherwise.

Never one to stay down, Alicia recovered from the slight like a pro, turning back to the silver haired woman. “I’m so glad you two agreed to come.” She began the introductions. “This is Macy Scott. She’s the best wedding planner in the city.”

“Oh Alicia,” Macy said with a haughty chuckle. “You’re exaggerating just a smidge.” From the smile she had slathered on her lips at the compliment, she was loving the praise—and believed every word. “Best in the city? That may be a little bit much.”

“You orchestrated Mika Sanchez’ last minute nuptials to that Saudi prince, made Oz Claiborne’s sixth wedding look like a storybook romance instead of a lecherous old man’s end-of-life crisis and even
I
was impressed when you turned Liza Jackman’s rehab romance into a goth’s wet dream. She talks about you like you’re the second coming of Christ,” Jacob paused, cool eyes locked on her. “I think you know exactly how good you are.”

The three of us women just gawked at Jacob. He had the strong, silent thing down pat five seconds ago and now he was striping away the BS before we even sat down.

He pulled out my chair and waited for me to sit before easing into the seat beside me. His mother still had this gray eyed, deer in headlights thing going. Macy was just as stunned.

“What?” Jacob shrugged. “I do my research as I’m sure you’ve done your own.”

Alicia sat down without a word, polishing off the rest of her wine like she knew we were in for a bumpy ride. But Macy—there was something different when the initial shock faded. Her eyes brightened, her whole demeanor going from professional with a hint of ‘meh’ to downright interested. “You read up on me, huh?”

Jacob took a long swig of his water before answering. “I know as much about you as you know about me. Surface information easily garnered from a google search.”

He said it easily. Coolly if you really knew him and could see past the almost bored way he skimmed the menu. He was Jacob Whitmore, head of Whitmore and Creighton, one of the most prestigious PR firms in the world. Google was for amateurs and we were the big leagues. If he wanted, he could have had a dossier filled with everything from her first kiss to the date and location of her first heartbreak. Research was our thing, knowing every minuscule piece that made a person who they are so we could find a way to make them better. Saying he Googled her proved how little he thought of this whole thing. One word and he’d just given her the ultimate diss.

“I’ve done my research too,” the planner said smoothly. “I know that you’ve had relationships with models, actresses and other personal assistants, but none of them compared to her.” She sat up a little taller. “You weren’t expecting her. In fact, you fought it and kept her at arm’s length.”

I felt the gasp ripple in my throat and pressed my lips together to keep it inside.
At arm’s length—she was talking about the contract!
Words and phrases and liability—all ways to regulate and control his emotions. To control me. Good thing I didn’t let the gasp go because Macy wasn’t done, turning to face me.

“You loved Jacob the moment you saw him.”

My lips weren’t pressed together anymore because my jaw was on the table. I couldn’t believe that her clear, far-from-soft voice was carrying our conversation to several tables around us and now
I
was in her sights.

“I’m sure you didn’t know it was love at the time since every woman with a pulse lusts after Jacob Whitmore.” She glanced at him, not missing a bit. “No offense.” She didn’t wait for his reply before returning her attention to me. “But I think you knew there was something different about him. About the two of you together. I know what the media’s calling it, ‘A Real Cinderella Story’ and ‘The Billionaire and His Secretary’.” She dismissed that with a scoff. “It’s unimaginative and cliche and now that I’ve seen you two together, I know there’s nothing cliche about the way you look at each other.”

Jacob and I exchanged a look and for a few seconds, we were the only two people in the room.

“Like that,” she said with a toothy grin that blinded me. “Real. Passion. Sex. Love that leaves you breathless.” She smoothed her hair back away from her face. “I don’t know what other wedding planners would do with your story, but I know that I could take that—” She held her hands out and framed us, “—and make it shine through. I could get people to look past the glitz and glamour and see the thing that’s uniquely you.”

Alicia could barely sit still. “Tell us more about your vision for the ceremony for my son and daughter-in-law. I know you have something amazing in mind.”

Hearing my in-law call me ‘daughter’ for the first time and mean it should have been a moment, but it just made me feel...queasy. She was really laying it on and it made my stomach twist and knot because I still wasn’t sure if this was all real or just a part of a larger plan. I tried to push it aside, at least long enough to hear what Macy had planned for us.

“Nothing gaudy and over the top,” Macy continued. “You’re marrying a billionaire so people are expecting horse drawn carriages and a guest list that stretches as long as the train of your elaborate wedding gown. So I was thinking something small and intimate would be the way to go.”