To Love and to Cherish Page 7
I almost sagged with relief. I believed she was being truthful on that point.
"That's a nice story," I said. "Do you tell it at bedtime?"
Her eyes narrowed. "You don't believe me?"
"Why should I? Especially when the woman I really married has been my wife almost three months."
"Ha!" She let out a laugh that was almost a cackle. "So I did grant your wish! I'm better than I thought. I deserve a bonus. But the truth is, you aren't married to her. And probably not to me, either. Unfortunately. Because I'd like to be a billionaire's wife. I really would."
"I bet you would."
We stared at each other. It was clear neither of us were going to change our story. It was my word against hers. To be honest, both stories sounded implausible. But I was the more reliable witness. With better references and a bigger fan club. And Kay, if she didn't back out of her story.
I came directly to the point. "Why have you been sending me texts trying to extort money from me?"
Her eyebrows shot up. She was overacting. "I wasn't trying to extort anything from you. I was just trying to warn you. You aren't really married to that girl. Maybe you think you are, but you aren't.
"I don't know what you told her. But she's taking advantage of you. Now that I know who you are, I see why. It's your money she wants. And who wouldn't?" She paused to study me again.
"I can get you out of your marriage. I mean, you had to have married without a prenup." She pointed between her and me. "We didn't have a prenup. You got a lot of money you stand to lose. I could come in and testify that your so-called marriage wasn't legal. None of it. Because I knowingly signed a fake name. Even in Nevada that won't stand up. Then you'd be free and clear. No money lost. Long as you don't press charges against me. And I make a little something, I'm good."
I sighed. I wasn't about to tell her the real arrangement Kay and I had. "There are all kinds of crazies in this world and you're just another one of them. Do you know how many threats I get? How many girls claim they've slept with me? Or secretly married me? I have a file full. In fact, some of them might even leak to the press."
I took a deep breath. "Let me tell you a story, a true story. There is a girl. Her name is Macy. She stole my wife's purse, her phone, her credit cards, and her identity. And charged an ungodly sum to them that I had to pay off. All that is irrefutable. The evidence has been turned over to the police. This girl, Macy, has a long history of stealing identities. She'll probably to go to prison when the prosecutor gets through with her.
"But it's all white-collar crimes. Nothing violent. Nothing threatening. It could go worse for her if we decided to turn over the drugged drink that's now in our lab's possession. Or I decide to press charges for drugging me."
I leaned forward and stared deep into her eyes. "Look. In a way, you did me a favor. I'm willing to forget about the drugging and that ten thousand dollars you took from me. And I will. As long as you never mention this marriage shit again. No more threats."
Her eyes flashed with anger again. "Am I being held prisoner here?"
I indicated the door. "You're free to go anytime. Have been the entire time." I held out my hand. "But first, I want my friend's money back."
Her eyes were fierce, but there was fear behind it. She handed over ten thousand dollars. I counted it. I held out my hand again and wagged my fingers at her. "There's more."
She handed me another thousand. She had another four or five of Dex's money. But what the hell? I let her have it as a goodwill gesture.
Our eyes met. She knew she wasn't fooling me. She could consider it hush money. I didn't care.
"Are we done here?" she said.
Chapter Seven
Kayla
I was on my way from the Reno airport to the hotel Justin always stayed at when I got a call from Britt.
"Kayla, you won't believe this." She was excited. "I just saw a promo for Sunshine Sheri's show tomorrow. She's doing an entire show on deluded, nutcase women who make up crazy stories about celebrities and wealthy men. Things like how they slept with them and had their baby. Totally untrue crap that some of the actually believe.
"And get this—she said she has an entire file on crazy claims made against Lazer Grayson and Justin! Sheri's promo piece says there are at least a dozen women who've tried to blackmail Justin saying he secretly married them!
"And then I saw a teaser for the nightly news with the same theme—crazy women who make outrageous claims to get money from rich men."
My heart stopped for a second. Until the full implication set in. What was Justin up to?
* * *
Justin
Dick's team tailed Macy when she left. The police picked her up and arrested her in the lobby before she could escape. His guys called Dick and gave him the news. There were high fives all around.
As Dick's team cleaned up and prepared to leave, Dex pulled me aside. "The second part of our plan is in full swing. Our leak to the news is going as planned. The truth has been completely obfuscated, muddled, and obliterated. Even the major news shows are picking up the stories of crazy allegations that have been made against wealthy guys by gold-digging women. If Macy ever tries it, no one will believe her."
I nodded. "Good."
Dex slapped me on the back. "Good job tonight."
"Good job you! You were a star," I said to him.
He grinned. "I live for this kind of shit. It's the ultimate prank. Crap, it gives me a thrill." He took a deep breath. "I'm too wound up to sleep. I'm going to hit the casino and celebrate."
"Don't get too carried away," I warned him. "Keep your guard up and don't get cocky, kid."
"Never!" he said.
I was beat and needed time to myself. I left Dick's team to finish up and went back to the suite.
I slipped inside and closed the door with my back to the body of the room. I caught a whiff of perfume. My heart stopped. "Kay?"
I spun around.
Ophie was sitting on the sofa. My heart fell. Shit. What was she doing here?
"Ophie?" I frowned.
She was wearing an outfit that had the Flashionista style to it. It should have been chic. On Kay, it would have looked fantastic. On Ophie it made her look both like a little girl playing grownup and a dowdy old lady at the same time. She'd died her hair blond and had it cut in a style that was eerily similar to Kay's.
"What are you doing here?" And how did she get in?
She stood up and smoothed her skirt. "Riggins sent me down to check on you. He thought you'd need my assistance while you're here. I thought it was a good idea to have someone loyal to you nearby. You were so upset when you left.
"Besides, I couldn't refuse a direct order from Riggins. Not without giving away that you're here on personal business. He didn't seem to know what was really going on. I figured you wanted it that way. Anyway, you and I can get some work done while you get yourself together after…"
She walked to the fridge. "You look tired." She opened the fridge door and pulled out an energy drink. She walked over to me, popped the top of the drink, and handed it to me. "Your favorite. Thirsty? You look like you could use it."
She was right. I was parched. I downed half the can in a single gulp. "It's late. You should get back to your room."
"I will. In a few minutes. First, let me brief you about what's going on at the office." She took my hand and pulled me to the sofa.
* * *
Kayla
"Look. Here's my license." I slapped it on the counter at the hotel registration desk. "I'm Kayla Green. Justin Green's wife. I know he's staying in a suite here. Just give me a key to his room and I'll be on my way."
The guy behind the counter looked at me suspiciously as he slid the license to him. Thank goodness I'd taken Magda's advice and changed my name months ago.
"I'll have to call Mr. Green to verify—"
I grabbed his arm. "Don't bother Justin." I leaned forward and whispered to the clerk, "I'm trying to surprise him.
Run the license. Or one of my credit cards." I let go of his arm and pulled a credit card from my purse. "You'll see they're legit. And I look just like the picture on the license. It was only taken a few months ago."
I looked him in the eye and he gave in and made me a key.
I handed him a hundred-dollar bill for his trouble. "Thank you."
* * *
Justin
Ophie talked and talked until I started to feel thickheaded and dull. Drunk. I couldn't form words properly. I was having trouble talking.
"Sorry, Jus!" Ophie said. "You look exhausted. And I'm boring you. I should leave." She stood.
I stood to see her out and my legs nearly gave out. My motor skills were off. My muscles didn't want to work.
"Oh, you really are dead on your feet." Ophie put her arm around my waist and leaned her head on my shoulder. "Lean on me. I'll help you to bed."
I tried to form the words to protest, but none came out. I found myself leaning on her.
With her help, I staggered into the bedroom. She managed to open the bed and I fell into it.
"Here. Let me help you get undressed before I leave." She pulled off my shoes and began tugging on my jeans.
* * *
Kayla
So in the crazy way of the world, I had to show more ID to get a key to my husband's hotel room than the ID thief had to marry him in the first place. It had been no problem for her to marry him as me. But a big deal for me to get a key. If any of the porters had seen the size of the tip I'd given the clerk at reception, I would have been swarmed. But I preferred to wheel my own suitcase up.
As I got in the elevator, my pulse went crazy rapid, beating so loud it pounded in my ears. What, exactly, was I going to say to Jus? I'm here to save you from dear Ophelia? Ophie's the devil disguised as an efficient administrative assistant?
I had no idea, really. But I kept my eyes open for her, expecting to run into her at every turn.
I found my way to Justin's room with no problem. He was in the top-floor executive suite, naturally. The boy did love his penthouses. I paused just for a second outside the door of his room, screwing up my courage and trying to calm my nerves. I took a deep, supposedly calming breath, and slid my keycard in the reader, crossing my fingers that he hadn't latched the deadbolt.
Sometimes fate smiles on you and gives you your wish. I got mine—no deadbolt. The door swung open. I wheeled my suitcase in and stepped into an empty room. It was a suite, though, with two bedrooms. Convenient for me if we still weren't going to act like man and "wife."
I sniffed, catching a trace of a perfume suspiciously like mine. A woman's purse sat on the coffee table next to an open can of energy drink, Justin's favorite. The air conditioning hummed. But not loud enough to cover the sounds of bed pounding and headboard banging coming from the bedroom.
That was when rage sent me over the edge of reason. Eric had screwed around on me and got away with it. In hindsight, because although I thought I loved him, I really hadn't. But Jus was another case altogether. He was not going to get away with making a fool out of me.
I let go of my suitcase handle, grabbed a nice handy, heavy bookend for defense, and stormed the bedroom. I banged the door open to find a newly blond Ophie, dressed only in a thong panty and see-through bra, a set I'd seen recently featured on Flash, on top of Jus, straddling him, ineptly trying to ride him. Or maybe she was just trying to undress him. It was hard to tell from my angle. His shirt was on and mostly unbuttoned and falling away from his chest and shoulders. Ophie's head was down as she fumbled with something. The last button on his shirt?
With the blond hair, it took me a second to recognize her. For an instant I thought he'd hooked up with his real wife, the ID thief. That's how much Ophie was trying to imitate me. A cheap imitation, I might add.
Justin's jeans were in a pile on the floor next to his shoes. Ophie's clothes were laid out neatly over the back of a chair. Jus still had his socks and boxers on. One of the funny, cute pairs of shorts I'd bought for him in Italy.
Okay! This looked bad. And almost funny at the same time. Obviously, Ophie didn't have the necessary experience undressing drunk guys to be proficient at it. Or having sex with them. I had way too much and could have given her a lesson. But I'd never had sex with a guy so drunk he was practically comatose. That was bad news all around. What was she trying to do with Jus? Rape him or frame him?
Rage really can blind a person. I was so angry and hurt that I could have committed a crime of passion right then. And I'm normally nonviolent.
But, as I'd learned, appearances can be deceiving. I wasn't about to overreact like Jus had. And believe me, this situation was much more damning than a robed hug with a fully dressed Lazer.
Poor, inept Ophie. Generally, if you were going to do it on top, you took your panties off. Especially if you were a beginner. Though getting around a thong wasn't a problem, Jus still had his shorts on. And it didn't look like anything was peeking out, if you know what I mean.
"Justin Arnold Green! What are you doing with that woman?"
Okay, so I sounded more like his mom than his outraged wife who'd just caught him with a lover.
Ophie froze.
Jus came out of his passed-out state just enough to lift his head groggily and stare at me with unfocused eyes. "Kay?"
And then it hit me. Crap, Jus! Not again.
Ophie turned and looked at me with a panicked expression. Like I might throw up on her again. Oh, I had worse in mind.
Fury gave me the strength of a dozen pregnant, wronged, fake wives. I didn't see straight. And I certainly didn't think. I strode to the bed, grabbed Ophie by the hair, and pulled her off my guy.
She screamed as I dragged her by the hair, ready to pull it out by its bleached blond roots if necessary, off Jus and onto the floor.
"Get up, bitch!" I grabbed her arm, the weighty bookend still in my other hand. Hey, I could club left-handed if I had to. "What did you do to him? What did you give him?"
"Nothing!" she screeched.
"Liar. You drugged him, you bitch!" I pulled her to her feet and dragged her to the door of the suite. "What did you slip him?"
"Nothing! Let go of me."
I tossed her nearly naked ass into the hall, latching the lock and the deadbolt behind her. If she wasn't going to cooperate, neither was I.
She pounded on the door, begging to be let back in.
I ignored her and strode back to the bedroom and sat gently on the bed next to Jus.
He leaned up on his elbows, weak and unsteady as he tried to focus on me. "This isn't what it looks like, Kay. You have to believe me."
Well, that was what I thought he was trying to say, anyway. His words were slurred and choppy, unformed, as if his tongue was thick and wasn't working properly.
"Oh, I know it." I put a hand to his cheek. "Things aren’t always what they seem, Jus. Just remember that when you come out of this. If you can. You have a nasty habit of getting roofied. I'm pretty sure that's what Ophie did. Didn't your mom ever tell you not to take an open drink from someone? What did she give you?"
He frowned, clearly trying to think. It wasn't like Jus to have trouble thinking or remembering. "Energy drink?" he finally got out.
I nodded. "I thought so." I squeezed his arm. "Lie down. I'm going to get help."
I grabbed my cell phone and called 911. When they picked up, I explained the situation in a surprisingly calm voice. "There's a deranged nearly naked woman in the hall outside my husband's hotel room. I think she drugged him. He should probably be checked out and tested for roofies.
"When the police get here, there's an energy drink can on the coffee table. They should test it for drugs, too."
Chapter Eight
Kayla
The police arrived and arrested Ophie. I was against giving her her clothes. But I didn't fight it when one of the officers retrieved them from the suite.
I rode with Jus in the ambulance to the hospital, holding his hand
like the good fake wife I was. The doctors wanted to check him out and observe him while they waited for the results from the energy drink. Or Ophie confessed to what she'd given him.
Jus babbled on about always loving me. I wondered, I hoped, the old Jus was back. But when he came back to his right senses? Who knew?
I held his hand and put a finger to his lips to shush him. Even though he was nearly unintelligible, I didn't want him saying anything he might regret. Outing us at this point, after so much effort to make our marriage look real, would make the whole charade futile.
"You are so not going to remember this." I brushed the hair off his forehead.
The paramedic riding with us smiled.
I texted Dex with a brief explanation and asked him to meet us at the hospital. He arrived shortly after they took Jus back to be examined. It was either late night or early morning depending on your point of view and whether you were a glass-half-empty or glass-half-full kind of person. We got coffee in the hospital cafeteria.
"What the hell are you doing in town and what happened?" Dex asked when we were seated with our coffee. "When I left Justin, he was going back to the suite to go to bed. And then suddenly all hell breaks loose."
He shook his head. "This better be good. I was on a winning streak. I had to leave a lucrative game of craps to get here."
"Poor baby." I had zero sympathy for him. "When you left him from doing what?"
"I asked first," Dex said with his impish smile.
"We aren't going to play that old game, are we?"
He raised both eyebrows and waited. As kids, we were always trying to get the best of each other and make the other go first.
"Fine," I said, not in the mood to play games. "Britt called me this morning to tell me Ophie had flown down here and I'd better get my butt down here and stop her from causing more trouble—"
"You're talking to Britt now?" He raised an eyebrow. "After she sent the email congratulating you on trapping Justin with a baby?"