Here Comes the Bride (11 page)

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Authors: Theresa Ragan

BOOK: Here Comes the Bride
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“What happened?”

“Let’s just say she gave me a taste of my own medicine.”

Sam could hardly believe what she was hearing. “Pamela dumped you?”

“I guess you could call it that if you really wanted to.”

Sam laughed. She couldn’t help it. Then she shut the door. “Have a seat and tell me all about it.”

Chapter Fourteen

 

 

“You wanted to see me?” Kate Garrison asked.

Mitzy motioned for Kate to shut the door and take a seat. “You and Samantha are close friends, isn’t that right?”

Kate sighed. “We used to be.”

“I think there’s more to this marriage between Samantha and DeMarco than she’s letting on.”

Kate wrung her hands in her lap.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t think Sam’s in love with her husband,” Kate blurted. “I think something fishy is going on, but I don’t have a clue what it is.”

“Do you feel betrayed by your friend?”

“I do.”

“How long have you worked for the
LA Beat
?”

“It’ll be seven years next week.”

“I’m going to give you a chance to show me what you’re made of.”

Kate leaned forward. “How?”

“I want you to find it inside your heart to forgive Samantha and befriend her, earn her trust. Assuming you’ll be invited into the house Samantha shares with her new husband, I want you to take note of anything and everything you see, and then report back to me. I want one thousand words about their living arrangements—everything and anything you can find out about the newlyweds.”

“She’ll know it was me.”

Mitzy shrugged. “What do you care after what she did to you? Besides, you’ll be writing under the pen name Liliana Parker. She can’t prove a thing. What do you think?”

“I don’t know. You would have to make it worth my while.”

“Five thousand dollars every time you hand over one thousand words. Make them good, though. Don’t waste your time or mine.”

Kate seemed to be thinking it over.

Mitzy refused to let Samantha Johnston, a filing clerk, get away with humiliating her in front of the world. Something was going on between Samantha Johnston and Dominic DeMarco and she wasn’t going to be the last to find out what it was. “If you can’t handle this project, then I’ll be passing the opportunity on to Carrie Hucksley.”

Kate snapped to attention. “I’ll do it.”

 

***

 

It was eleven o’clock by the time Sam slipped the key Maria had given her into the door at Dominic’s house. She didn’t want to wake him, so she told Ken to wait in the car while she brought her things inside, starting with her cat.

Ken had offered to drive her, which had saved her time and taxi money. She placed the carrier inside the front entry, then turned back toward the door and nearly knocked into Ken, who had ignored her request and followed her inside the house.

“Where have you been?”

Sam whipped around, surprised to see Dominic standing in the darker shadows of the entryway. His expression was surly, but he looked amazingly handsome in a pair of loose-fitting gray sweats and a snug black T-shirt.

She straightened her spine, refusing to back down just because he was in one of his moods. “After work, I stopped by my apartment to get my things.”

Dominic gestured with his chin toward Ken. “And who’s your friend?”

Ken handed her the fishbowl. Water sloshed over the sides, but he was intent on meeting her celebrity husband, despite the angry look on Dominic’s face.

Ken had talked nonstop while she gathered the things she would need. Then, while she’d gone to her neighbor’s place to get Shakespeare and her fish, Hamlet, Ken had gone through her kitchen cupboards and started dinner. She’d been too tired and too busy packing her things to bother protesting, but now it was eleven o’clock and Dominic was not pleased. “Dominic,” she said, “this is Ken.” Then she placed the fishbowl on the entry table.

Ken held out a hand for Dominic to shake.

Dominic ignored the offered hand and stepped right past him, approaching Sam instead. Without speaking another word, he took her into his arms and kissed her good and long. His mouth was warm, the kiss intoxicating. When he finally pulled away, Sam felt blood rush to her cheeks before she rambled on nervously. “Ken was at my apartment when I went to get my things. He was kind enough to help me pack,” she explained, her tongue tripping over every word. “Then he insisted on driving me home so I wouldn’t have to take a taxi.”

Dominic’s eyes narrowed just the slightest bit. “Is this the same Ken you’ve mentioned before?”

Sam nodded.

“She talked about me on your honeymoon?” Ken asked. “Nice.”

They ignored him. “I guess you didn’t want to take one of the cars in the garage?” Dominic asked next.

“The idea never crossed my mind.”

“Surely you have a car of your own?”

“My car is in the shop. I left it there before I flew to New York, figuring I’d take care of it next week.”

“I see.”

Obviously he didn’t see at all because he crossed his arms tightly over his chest. If she didn’t know better, she’d guess he was jealous. She tried not to smile.

Ken looked around. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

“Thanks,” Sam said with a sigh. “Let me see you to your car so I can get the rest of my things.”

“I’ll get your things,” Dominic offered, and before she could stop him, he was ushering Ken out the door, staying close on his heels.

She watched the two men. Dominic was at least an inch taller. Ken’s shoulders were maybe that much broader. She didn’t know what to think about seeing them together.
Twilight Zone
came to mind. It was Dominic who held her full attention, though: the fire in his eyes, his determined stance, his easy confidence.

Dominic reached inside the trunk of Ken’s Camry and grabbed all of her things. The two men exchanged a few words.

She couldn’t tell by their expressions what they were talking about or whether there was a problem, but before she could step closer for a better look, Dominic was coming up the stairs toward the house.

She followed him inside, watching him take her things to their bedroom.

Shakespeare meowed. Too tired to worry about Dominic, she opened the carrier. Her white Persian cat wanted nothing to do with living in a new house and had to be coaxed out of the cage.

Dominic reappeared with a smirk on his face and a dog at his side, which prompted her cat to dart off in a flash of white fluff. The dog barked and gave chase.

Sam ran after the animals, following them into Dominic’s bedroom. Shakespeare was on top of the bed, clawing at the pillows and blankets.

“Is this your dog?” she asked loud enough to be heard over the barking.

“Rex,” Dominic commanded as he came rushing into the room behind her. “I keep him in a kennel when I’m gone.” He pointed to the cat. “That thing is getting cat hair all over my pillows.” He reached for the animal. Shakespeare hissed at him and he pulled his hand back. “That’s not a cat. It’s a tiger.”

She snorted as she watched his dog bark and paw at the edge of the blankets, pulling the covers halfway off the bed. “Call off your dog!”

Too late. Rex pounced onto the bed.

Shakespeare leapt into Sam’s arms, scratching her before jumping to the cushioned chair nearby. The dog took chase, almost knocking her over in the process. The animals ran in circles around their legs as Dominic examined his pillows. “I’m going to be sneezing all night.”

Ignoring the chaos around them, Sam plunked her hand on her hip. “You’re allergic to cats, but not to dogs?”

“That’s right. Romeo needs to go.”

“His name is Shakespeare and he’s not going anywhere.”

“I’ll definitely have a rash by morning.”

“Well, that’s too bad. Shakespeare stays,” she said as the dog chased the cat under the bed this time.

Dominic finally caught Rex and held the dog by his collar while Sam scooted under the bed so she could grab the trembling cat. “Isn’t there somewhere you can put Rex for a few minutes while I get Shakespeare situated?”

“A phone call would have been nice,” he said.

Shakespeare didn’t want anything to do with her. He wrestled from her grasp and darted from the bedroom, running for his life. Dominic kept a good hold on Rex, a small black lab who seemed friendly enough despite his eagerness to run after her poor cat.

She looked out the door. The cat was gone. “I should have called. I’m sorry. Okay? I’ve had a long day and I’m really not in the mood to be lectured.”

“How was work?”

“The entire office is upset with me. I let everyone down. My boss has given me some time off to be with my new husband.” She crossed her arms and presented him with a tight smile. “I almost lost my job. Happy?”

“You knew this wouldn’t be easy.”

Sam exhaled.

“I don’t think Ken is the right guy for you.”

“I’m not going there,” she huffed.

“If you didn’t want to discuss Ken, you shouldn’t have brought him to my house.”

She snorted.

“Why did you ask him for help? I could have helped you if you had only asked.”

“I didn’t want his help.”

“Then why did you take it?”

“He was very insistent.”

“What was he doing at your apartment in the first place?”

“I don’t know. You should have asked him.”

“I did.”

Heat crept up her face.

He looked her square in the eyes. “He wants you back.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

“Why?”

“Because this whole crazy arrangement between the two of us is nothing but a big fat lie.” She was tired—exhausted, really. The last week or so had taken a lot out of her. “I’m not your wife,” she went on. “You’re not my husband. We’re from two different worlds. I don’t even think you really like me much.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He let the dog go.

Rex took off.

“What about Shakespeare?”

“Rex wouldn’t hurt a flea. He’s partially deaf and blind in one eye.”

“Oh, the poor thing.”

“Come on,” he said, dragging her through the house toward the kitchen. “Knock it off, Rex,” he said loud enough for the dog to hear him as they passed by the family room.

Rex immediately stopped barking and sat on his hind legs next to the couch in the family room where Shakespeare was hiding.

Once they were in the kitchen, Dominic told Sam to take a seat on the stool at the kitchen counter. Then he found some pain-relieving cleansing spray and a bandage and got to work.

Sam tried not to look at him while he tended to the scratches on her arm. When he blew on the injured area, drying the medication so the bandage would stick, she did her best to ignore the wildfire of tingles he managed to ignite.

“It’s late,” she said. “You’re tired. I can do this myself.”

“Be a good patient and stay still. I’m almost done.” He placed the bandage over her scratch. “There.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

He looked confused.

“My mom used to kiss my owies to make me feel better.”

He slowly brought her arm to his lips and kissed the soft flesh next to the bandage.

Not such a good idea. His lips made her tingle in places not even close to her owie. “Thanks.” She pulled her arm away. “That’s good. All done.”

“Happy to oblige. Perhaps we should move this medical procedure into the bedroom.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m fine now.” She wriggled her arm in the air. “See? All better.”

His frown was back. “So your boss is giving you a hard time?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Just say the word and I’ll have someone pay your boss a visit.”

Sam laughed. “What? You’re going to send Ben and Tom to my office to threaten my boss?”

“Whatever it takes.”

“I appreciate the offer, but there’s no need.”

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“What about Shakespeare?”

“Leave him. I guarantee those two will be friends by morning.”

Dominic tucked her into bed, propping her arm on an extra pillow, treating her as if she’d been hit by a car instead of scratched by a cat.

Chapter Fifteen

 

 

It was Saturday morning, Sam’s second week as Dominic’s wife, when she trudged sleepily into the kitchen. The past few days had flown by. Between learning her way around Dominic’s big house, getting Shakespeare acclimated, and getting to know Maria, she’d hardly had time to worry about Dominic.

And that was a lie, a big fat lie.

She was aware of his every move, every smile, every twitch, every frown.

She also noticed every time he hopped into his car and disappeared, returning in time for dinner. Twice he’d come home late. She had no idea where he went. She’d asked him more than once, but he always found a way to change the subject or take a call before she could get any concrete answers. As the days passed, she tried to convince herself she didn’t care and it wasn’t her concern.

Most nights she would be lying in bed hours before he came to bed. She would feign sleep as she felt the mattress dip from the weight of him as he climbed in beside her. More than once she’d woken with her leg swung over his leg, her arm resting across his chest, her lips squashed against his shoulder. But he had yet to complain or say anything about her tendency to end up on his side of the bed.

As she waited for the coffee to brew, the phone rang. She grabbed it before it could ring again and wake Dominic. “Hello.”

“Who is this?” the caller asked.

“This is Sam John—I mean Samantha DeMarco, who is this?”

“Nobody important.” The smooth as silk voice gave Sam pause. “I was only calling to check in on Dominic…make sure he’s doing well.”

“Should I wake him?”

“Oh, no. Don’t do that. I’ll call again.”

Before Sam could get a name and a phone number, there was a click and the phone line went dead. Sam couldn’t help but wonder which starlet she’d been talking to, though it sounded like an older woman. Sam pushed *67, hoping the caller’s number wasn’t blocked. She was in luck. The number popped up. Repeating the number in her mind, she hung up the phone, scurried around the kitchen until she located paper and pen, and then quickly jotted down the number. She slid the paper into the pocket of her pink sweatpants just as Dominic sauntered into the kitchen. He wore gray sweats and a half-buttoned shirt. His hair was a tousled, sexy mess.

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