Made To Love Her (9 page)

“So… are we on with this or not?” Monroe asks Daisy.

Daisy shrugs. “Why not? We’re on.”

Monroe pumps her fist victoriously. “Yes.”

The next topic of conversation is about how Daisy and Jack met. Monroe initiated the subject, but I’m just as interested in hearing how a man lands a woman like Mrs. Lord.

“It just happened between us,” Daisy says nonchalantly.

“But you were walking down the aisle in less than a month.”

“It was three months.”

“What’s the difference?”

Daisy studies Monroe like she’s trying to get a read on her. “Not much if you think about it. Belmont and I really didn’t know each other very well, even if it felt as if we had known each other all our lives.”

Monroe grunts cynically. “At first, I didn’t think the two of you would last for more than a minute, but then I thought about it. Jack’s never been the kind of guy to spread his seed all over the place. I don’t know one girl who could claim she fucked him. And let me tell you, I tried, and on many occasions.”

Daisy’s eyebrows ruffle. “I thought you were about to say something complimentary?”

“Well, yeah…” She aims her finger at Daisy. “You’re the one Jack chose, and you didn’t even have to stand in line. But I still want to know everything about him.”

“Like what?” Daisy’s still frowning.

“Like, does he fart in bed?”

Daisy snickers. “All the time.”

“I bet it smells like a bed of roses.”

“No. It smells like a stinking fart.”

I laugh.

Monroe shifts to curl up on her side. “ Okay, so does he, like, go to the toilet in general. I always thought he was a god or something. You know they don’t shit.”

I toss my head back and laugh louder.

I think Daisy says, “Of course Belmont has bowel movements.”

“Why would you think Jack doesn’t shit?” I ask. I’m extremely curious to know.

“Because unlike the rest of the entire male population, including his backstabbing brother, Charlie, Jack Lord is perfect.”

Daisy shakes her head as if that’s the dumbest thing she’s ever heard. “Believe me, my husband is not a god.”

I play along. “Yeah... you’re going to also have to convince me that he’s not at least a demigod.”

Monroe shoots her finger at me. “Right. So let’s hear it, Daisy. Let’s hear it.”

Daisy chuckles as she rubs her belly again. She does that a lot. “Belmont has stinky feet because he wears the same pair of socks over and over. I have to darn near force him to take off his over-worn, offensive smelling socks and throw them in the hamper.”

Monroe shakes her head. “You got to do better than that.”.

“Okay, well… he has horrible morning breath—oh…” Daisy says abruptly.

“What?” Monroe says as if she’s disappointed Daisy stopped.

“He had a decayed tooth in the back. That’s what caused the bad breath. Since then, it’s been a lot better. Plus, he’s… well,
we’re
flossing more.”

Monroe groans in disappointment. “Shit. That was going to do it. Halitosis is an intrinsically human condition.”

“Well, I’ve never had it, so what does that make me?” I ask.

“Don’t fish, Tango. You’re hot,” Monroe says.

We all laugh. But as soon as the laughter dies, the silence prevails. I wonder if they feel what I feel. Sure, we’re having fun, but I feel guilty about it because Vince is still missing.

“So do you think they found Vince yet?” Monroe asks, her eyes shifting between Daisy and me.

“I haven’t heard anything from Jack yet,” I say.

“Me, either,” Daisy says. “But he’ll call me, and when he does, I’ll let you both know something.”

“Yeah, but it’s just strange, don’t you think?” Monroe says.

“It’s all strange,” I say.

“Yeah, but why is Jack out looking for him like he’s FBI or something?”

I turn to gauge Daisy’s reaction for an answer. She’s smiling like she knows something, but she’s not saying, and not even poking her on the ass with a hot prod could make her talk.

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

We all turn to find a young guy in a black jacket that resembles the one the chef was wearing.

“It’s time for dinner. And you also have another guest inside?”

My heart does a jig. I know who it is.

“Is her name Carter?” Daisy asks.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Monroe winks at me, and I shake my head to play down my excitement. She’s here, and suddenly, I don’t know what the hell to do because being around Carter brings out the “scoundrel” in me.

O
ur plane landed in Houston
. Anxiety is crawling through my insides like a million tiny ants. Jack has already deplaned. He managed to have Peter Oslo’s airplane diverted. I don’t know how he did it, but I’m to remain in his jet until he gets back.

I check my watch. Jack left to face off with Peter thirteen minutes ago. I’m sure getting him to divulge Gabrielle’s whereabouts won’t be easy. If the father is afraid of Jack, he sure as hell wouldn’t steer him toward his precious daughter. By the look on Jack’s face when he left, he was prepared to extract information from Peter by any means necessary.

“Would you like another latte?” the flight attendant asks.

I’m too nervous to speak, so I can only shake my head.

“Okay, just let me know if you need anything,” she says.

Still my jaw won’t move, so I nod stiffly.

The minutes pass slowly. I decide to stare at the exit until it opens, hoping that will keep me calm. Suddenly, the door shifts, and the two flight attendants come out from the back and open the doors. I rise to my feet as they lower the ramp.

Plunk, plunk, plunk.

Jack strides into the cabin, carrying the outside air on him.

“What happened?” I ask eagerly.

“One second.” Jack sweeps past me and goes into the cockpit.

I hug myself as I wait nervously.

Suddenly, he comes out and flops down in the seat he abandoned. “Buckle up, Maggie. We’re going back to New York.”

I’m still eager to know more. “But what did Oslo say?”

Jack looks up at me, waiting for me to take my seat.

I sit and buckle up. When I’m secure in my seat my expression begs for an answer from Jack.

“I’m a hundred percent sure he has nothing to do with Vince’s disappearance. But I’m certain, as you suspected, his daughter hired Randall to kidnap Vince.”

I’m waiting for the part where he says we’re closer to finding Vince, but Jack rests his head on the seat as if he’s done talking.

“That’s it?”

“No, Maggie.”

I take a deep breath as a way to rectify my frustration. “Then what?”

Jack turns calmly to face me. “I had Peter call his daughter. Gray tracked the call. She’s in the Hamptons, and now that we’re tapped into her cell phone, we’re tracking her.”

“Aren’t you afraid Peter is going to tip her off?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Jack gives me that look—the one that I hate. He’s not telling me more than he already has.

“Well, can you answer this?”

“Answer what?”

“Are we closer to finding Vince?”

“Yes, we are.”

I sit back in my seat, finally at ease and in control. “And he’s alive for sure?”

“I can’t answer that, but as I said, I believe Gabrielle paid to have Vince kidnapped because he’s marrying you. However…” Jack smashes his lips together as he frowns.

The composure I summoned abandons me and I’m about to jump out of my seat again. “However what?”

“I remember Vince was in a relationship with Cindy O’lay.”

“Yes,” I say impatiently.

“According to Peter, Cindy and Gabrielle are hosting a fashion event together in the Hamptons. He said that they’re close friends.”

I feel my entire face collapse into a frown as I recall the first time I saw Vince with Cindy O’lay. We were in Iberia at Madam Beauchamp’s estate for Charlie and Angel’s engagement party. Vince and Cindy O’lay were playing in the pond. My heart nearly shattered into a million pieces later that night when they stopped in front of our table, standing arm and arm. Then, when he finally broke off their relationship to resume ours, Cindy threatened to kill herself. That wasn’t even a month ago. And now she’s planning a fashion event with Vince’s ex-fiancée?

“But I don’t understand. Who ordered Douglas Randall to kidnap Vince?”

“Gabrielle did.”

“Is that what Peter told you?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know?”

Jack blows a sharp breath out of his nose. “Maggie.”

“What?” I snap, and then calm myself. I’m pretty sure I’m like a gnat that won’t get away from his ear. “I just want this to make sense, Jack.”

He studies my tormented expression for a moment, then his eyes soften. “I’m only going with my gut at this time, but I believe that Gabrielle and Cindy O’lay planned Vince’s kidnapping together. Gabrielle used her father’s resources to do it. Gray checked. The two women have definitely been in the Hamptons this weekend. They’ve attended three events. However, Vince has not been spotted.”

“Do you think Vince is in the Hamptons?”

“That’s my educated guess.”

I’m facing the brick-wall expression again. Jack is done answering questions. Regardless, he’s given me enough information to appease me for the time being, so I sit back in my seat and shake my leg anxiously.

I study Jack. His eyes are closed as if he’s meditating. I know how much he hates to be away from Daisy, especially while she’s pregnant.

“Jack?” I say quietly.

“Yes, Maggie.” I can tell that he’s forcing himself to speak calmly.

“Do you miss Daisy?”

“Very much so.”

“You should call her and let her know you’re fine.”

“I will.”

After a moment of watching him, I sit back in my seat.

“Get some sleep. When we arrive in Southampton, we’re going to have a long night,” he says.

I sigh appreciatively. “Thank you.”

Jack crushes his lips into a tight smile. “You don’t have to thank me. I’ll do anything for you. You know that.”

I’m so filled with gratitude that my eyes water. “I know.”

“Now get some sleep, Magnolia.” He opens his eyes to wink at me.

I chuckle. “Okay.”

I snuggle my back against the seat and close my eyes. Sleeping is the last thing my brain wants to do. Instead, I reminisce about Hawaii. I force my memory to wrap me in feelings of exhilaration, love, and pure happiness Vince and I generated during that trip. Before I know it, my head and eyelids are heavy. I’m indulging in the memory of sitting on the sand of the private beach that belonged to the house Vince rented in Kauai. Vince’s arm is around me, and I’m cuddled up against his chest. As I watched the sun set, I felt love unending, and I still feel it as I drift off into a much-needed sleep.

“
O
h
, so you’re also an architect?” Monroe asks Carter.

“Um-hum,” Carter says as she chews.

“Is that how you met?” she asks.

Cater and I glance at each other.

“I assume you two have always been acquainted, but at some point you must’ve reconnected.”

Carter stabs one of the seared scallops on her plate. “And why do you say that?”

Monroe smirks as if she’s impressed Carter finally responded. “First, I heard Tango and Vince have been bros even before they had acne and teenage-boy body odor, which means you had to have met him at least once before you…” She shrugs her eyebrows suggestively. “And second, Tango has no interest in me whatsoever, so that means he’s very much into you.”

The fact that she’s right on both accounts leaves me at a loss for words.

Carter grunts inquisitively. “Are you interested in him?”

Monroe shrugs. “If he keeps it up, I will be.”

“Keeps what up?” Carter asks.

“Whatever he’s doing to change himself.” Monroe looks at me and wiggles her finger. “You’re not the same guy I met last year.”

I still don’t know what to say.

“The trick is to keep evolving, which should be the same goal for each of us,” Daisy says. I’m sure she senses how uncomfortable I am with this conversation.

“Oh gosh, Daisy,” Monroe says. “You’d make a kick-ass politician. Sorry, Tango, didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable…”

“It’s Robert,” Carter says.

Monroe flinches. “Excuse me?”

Carter looks her dead in the eyes. “You keep calling him Tango, but his name is Robert.”

Monroe glares at her, but Carter continues chewing as if she’s unruffled by the daggers Monroe’s eyes are lobbing at her. Suddenly, Monroe sniffs cynically. “Tango? May I call you Tango?”

I really don’t want to be in the middle of these chicks. I’ve never seen Carter this contentious—it’s not like her. Grace gave Carter hell for the brief time she worked for me, and she never squared off with Grace like this; and Grace actually gave her a reason to. Something’s going on with Carter, and I wonder what it is.

“All you beautiful ladies can call me whatever you want, and I’ll answer to it.” I paste on a smile, hoping my response was good enough to dissolve the tension in the room.

Carter puts down her fork. “Okay…” She sighs. “I’m going to excuse myself now. Thank you for the dinner and hospitality, Daisy.”

Daisy frowns. “You’re welcome,” she says quietly then scoots back her chair. “How about I come with you to make sure your room is comfortable?”

Carter stands. “Thank you so much, but I’m fine.”

Daisy widens her eyes at Monroe as she stands. “No, really, I would love to.” She smiles warmly at Carter.

Carter studies Daisy’s expression then nods.

As soon as they leave, I turn to Monroe. “Why are you that way?” I ask.

She frowns as if she has no idea what I’m talking about. “What way?”

“You’re crass as hell.”

She’s about to say something, but then she stops. Monroe shifts abruptly to fold her arms on the table, then she uses one arm as a kickstand and presses her mouth against her knuckles as she gazes off thoughtfully. “Have I been a rude bitch?”

“I don’t know about the bitch, but you’ve definitely been rude,” I say, figuring this is no time to sugarcoat her behavior.

She looks at me with one eye narrowed then flings her hands out as if she’s giving up. “I think I’m going full-on bitch because Maggie left Mo&Ma to marry Vince. You know… I just never believed she would choose being happy homemaker over me.”

I snort. “So that’s why you’re in everyone’s ass over this wedding?”

Her frown intensifies. “What do you mean?”

“You’re overcompensating.”

She grunts thoughtfully. “I guess so. At least that’s half of it. I love Maggie, and the bitches of Vinceville were purposely trying to give her a wedding that’s akin to a toothless meth head.”

I laugh. “Where do you get this shit?”

Monroe looks utterly confused. “What shit?”

I shake my head. “Forget it.”

“Anyway, yes! Yes! Yes!” she shouts to the top of her lungs. “I’m overcompensating. It’s just that Maggie… she’s always had a better life than I had. Don’t get me wrong—I love her to death but, but, damn, I deserve my Prince Charming and happily ever after and shit like that too.” She blows a hard sigh. “At least once in my life, damn it.”

I blink at Monroe. I don’t know what this strange feeling is soaring through me. Maybe the fact that I can relate to everything she just said makes me want to put way more distance between who I’m trying to become and who I used to be.

“Well, you better do something about your envy now, or you’ll end up fucking up so badly that Maggie may never forgive you for it.”

“You mean do something like fuck Vince?”

I sniff bitterly. “You know about Maggie and me, don’t you?”

She smirks. “Every pleasurable detail.”

“She liked it?” I say, surprised.

“I’m sure knowing how to fuck is the least of your problems, Tango,” she says in a frank tone. “But if I tell you something, can we keep it just between you and me?”

I take a moment to decide whether or not I want to know whatever sin Monroe is about to confess. She better not have fucked Vince, especially after all the shit he gave me for doing the same with Maggie. The thought of him being hypocritical pisses me off.

I squeeze my lips into a tight frown. “Sure. What is it?”

Monroe smirks as she reads my expression. “It’s not that, Tango.”

“Not what?”

“The reason why you’re putting on that attitude. You see, I tried to fuck Vince, but he wasn’t having any part of it. I went over to their house to see Maggie. She wasn’t there. He had been swimming, and he was wearing a pair of nut-hugging trunks. I can’t deny the guy is hot. I figured there was no time better than now to try to have a piece of Maggie’s tasty little pie. I grabbed his cock, and he twisted my fucking arm.”

“He did?” That doesn’t sound like Vince to be violent like that.

She waves a hand nonchalantly. “He didn’t hold it for long. It was just his initial reaction to me grabbing his dick. I regretted it as soon as I did it. What the fuck was I thinking?”

I bob my head, recognizing the familiarity between us. “Been there. Except I went through with it.”

“Well, it takes two to tango.” She winks. “Plus, I know Maggie better than she knows herself. She’ll never admit this but she only fucked you just to get back at Vince for firing the first shot.”

It takes me a moment to get what she’s talking about. “Oh, Emily.”

Monroe shoots her finger at me. “Bingo.” She shakes her head. “Vince shattered her. It looked like she got over it rather quickly but she didn’t. Did she tell you I tried to fuck her after that happened?”

I’m taken aback. Monroe is full of surprises. “Are you a lesbian?”

She squishes one side of her face to think about it. “Mm… I’m what you call fucked up.”

“Then you’re not gay?”

“I’ve eaten crack.”

Picturing Monroe going down on Maggie turns me on. Then I see her sucking on Carter’s soft and tasty clit, and my dick wants to explode. I blink, trying to get ahold of myself.

Monroe is watching me with a wicked smirk. “I wouldn’t dare take advantage of you in this state, Robert Tango, especially since you’ll only regret it in the morning.” Monroe glances over her shoulder. “I guess I should apologize to Carter in the morning. You know she thinks we’re fucking, right?”

I frown, taken aback. “No way.”

“Yes way. Does she know about your infamous reputation?”

I press my lips together as I nod slowly. “Yep. It followed me to RT Creative.”

“Then that’s it. She doesn’t trust you. She thinks you’re the type of guy who’d fuck a frog if you thought it was sexy enough.”

I frown perplexed. “Fuck a frog?” Could you do that?

One of the servers comes out of the kitchen. “Will it be just the two of you for dessert?”

Monroe and I look at each other.

“Sure.” She shrugs. “And a bottle of wine?” she asks me.

“As long as we’re sharing it.”

Daisy returns to eat dessert with us. She tells us that Carter is fine—she excused herself because she was tired. I’m surprised Monroe doesn’t refute the claim. Instead, Monroe and I down an excellent bottle of wine while she expels stories about her celebrity clients and the shit she’s had to do for them to save their reputation.

Monroe picks up the bottle and pours the last two glasses of wine. “Shit, I’ve been talking too much.” She frowns curiously. “Daisy, what is this elixir?”

Daisy squints at the bottle Monroe just slammed on the table. “It’s
Mes Fleurs Bordeaux
, my father’s brand.”

“Holy hell sexy apothecary, thou expensive wine is quick.” She massages her temples. “So quick.”

I can feel the room spinning too. I rest my head back on the chair.

“The great Jacques Blanchard is your dad, right?” Monroe asks.

Daisy cracks a smile. “Yes indeed.”

“So we do have something in common,” Monroe says excitedly. “We’re both children of famous people!”

“Didn’t you write a memoir about Clara Richardson?” I ask.

Monroe lifts a finger. “Number-one New York Times best seller for three weeks in a row.”

“Congratulations,” Daisy says.

Monroe smiles. “Thanks. Oh, and I know your mother too. She’s a tough cookie.”

“Ah… Heloise, yes.”

“You’re nothing like her.”

“Nope.”

Monroe grunts contemplatively. This is the second time she’s let a subject drop even though it’s clear she wants to pry. The conversation somehow turns to all of us taking a trip to Bordeaux for the Chateaux Mes Fleurs wine festival. Then we end the night playing a game Monroe starts called “let’s find a bad bone in Daisy’s body.” Before Monroe and I figure out we’re too drunk to sit at the table any longer, we learn Daisy’s not much of a curser or a drinker and has never done hard drugs. However, she does admit that the first time she was pregnant, she thought she was being punished for getting caught up in a whirlwind affair with Jack.

“He asked me to marry him one week after we met, and I said yes!”

“Yeah, that was quicker than your wine,” Monroe says.

“Yes…” Daisy sighs. “What Belmont and I have is rare.” She rubs her belly. “But if my daughter does what I did, I would lock her in her room until she comes to her senses.” She chuckles. “And so would Belmont.”

“Why don’t you call him Jack?” Monroe asks.

“Because calling him Belmont makes me always remember our Martha’s Vineyard love story.”

It’s quiet. I wonder if Carter and I have a San Francisco love story. I felt something for her that I never felt for any woman. I still feel it.

“Goddamn it, I want my own love story,” Monroe says.

Daisy smiles. “Just keep growing up, and you’ll have one.”

Monroe studies her with a smile

A
fter that
, we call it a night and retire to our rooms. I collapse on top of my bed and stare at the ceiling.

“Stay away from her, Robert,” I mutter.

Humph. Monroe said that Carter suspects something is going on between us. Does that mean she’s jealous? I roll off the bed and scramble to the door. There’s nothing wrong with going to check on her. I squeeze the knob and stop. First I have to find her. It shouldn’t be hard. I know where Monroe and Daisy are sleeping. I’ll check every other room but theirs.

I pull open the door and rush into the hallway in time to catch Carter shuffling toward the stairwell.

“Carter?” I say loudly, thrilled and surprised to see her.

She stops in her tracks then slowly turns to face me.

I want to focus on her body in the thin cotton dress. I’m guessing it’s what she wears to bed.

Her eyes are wide. “Oh, hi, Robert. I was just, um…”

Carter wears a distinct perfume. Ever since I smelled it on her, I started recognizing the scent whenever I’m near a woman who has it on. The floral fragrance surrounds me.

“Were you just at my door?” I ask.

“Um, no,” she says.

She
was
at my door. I grin. “Because if you were, you can come on in.”

Carter glances over her shoulder like she wants to escape. “Are you alone?”

So Monroe was right. “I don’t want to be alone.” I wait with bated breath for Carter’s reply. I would understand if she turns me down. I’m pretty sure she can tell that I want to take that dress off her, spread her across my bed, and taste her wetness.

“Um, sure,” she says.

I blink, surprised. “Really?”

“Unless…”

“No,” I say in a rush. “Please come in.”

Carter nods and moves in my direction. I finally remember how tipsy I am—and that’s another reason why my head is spinning. My desire is running high. I can’t ever remember wanting a woman this bad before.

Suddenly, there’s giggling coming up the stairs, and before Carter can make it to my door, two women step up into the hallway.

“I’m guessing that one’s off-limits,” a beautiful brunette says.

The other one is blond, and she’s also pretty. When I look closely, I can barely tell she’s pregnant. I think I recognize them from Maggie’s birthday party, but I’m not sure. When I turn back to Carter, she’s observing me.

“Good night, Robert,” she says sternly and gusts past the two women.

Looking confused, the women watch her then turn their expressions on me.

“Aren’t you Robert Tango?” the brunette asks. She reminds me of that model, Alessandra Ambrosio

“Yep,” I say, still wanting to run after Carter.

“Do you remember me?”

I look away from the abandoned stairwell to squint at her face. “Sort of. I think I met you at Maggie’s birthday party two years ago.”

“Um-hmm,” she croons seductively. “You hit on me at both of Maggie’s parties.”

I shake my head at my past behavior. “I’m sure I did.”

She smirks like she’s ready to take Carter’s place in my bed. “The first time, you were drunk, and the second time, I guessed it was coke?”

It sounds like she’s asking me what I was high on. “The hell if I know.” I did just about everything—coke, weed, speed, prescription drugs, and ecstasy. However, I drew the line at heroin and crack. I needed to do drugs I knew I could come back from.