Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
ALORA
Breakfast on the deck of the yacht is always so perfect.
“And we have a honeymoon to go on next month,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Edward.” I roll my eyes. “What makes you think that we’re getting married in a month?”
“Because we are.”
“No we’re not.” I widen my eyes. “I want to take my time and pick my dream dress and organize every little detail and have fun doing it.”
He rolls his eyes this time. “Fine. You have six weeks.”
“Edward.”
“It’s not up for discussion. I want to be married.”
“Well, if you want to be married in six weeks we have to elope.”
“Suits me.”
“What?” I stare at him. “You want to elope?”
“No. I want a small wedding. My family, your family. A handful of friends each. That’s it.”
“Oh.” I think for a moment, that does sound nice actually. “Where do you want to get married?” I ask him.
He presses his lips together. “Wherever you want.”
“Really?” I smile. “Elvis wedding in Vegas?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Underwater while we scuba dive?”
“Hard no.”
“Skydiving above Mount Kosciuszko?”
“Will you be serious?” he snaps.
“Okay then.” I narrow my eyes as I pretend to think. I already know where I want to get married. “I guess if I had to choose I would like to get married on your family property.”
Tenderness glows in his eyes and I know this was his dream. “Really?”
“Really.”
He gets up and comes around to my side of the table and leans down and kisses my cheek from behind. “Thank you. This means a lot to me.”
“Six months,” I tell him.
“No.”
“Four months.”
He squeezes my shoulders. “No.”
“Edward.”
“You have six weeks and that’s it.” He sits back down at his side of the table and picks up the newspaper, no longer interested in the topic. “What would you like for breakfast?”
“Whatever.” I stare out over the sunshine dancing across the water, my mind already buzzing.
What kind of wedding dress do I want?
“Hello, is Miss Sorenson here?” the pretty young girl asks me at the front counter. She’s around twenty-two with beautiful red hair, olive skin and big brown eyes.
“Yes. I am her,” I reply, who is this?
“Hello, my name is Freya Barber. I am one of Mr. Prescott’s PAs.” Her eyes dart around as if she’s nervous.
“Right….” Where the hell is this going? “How can I help you?”
“Umm….” She shrugs awkwardly. “Mr. Prescott had me driven here to offer my services to you for the next few months to work as your personal assistant.”
“What?”
“He said that, umm….” She swallows the lump in her throat. “He said that I could perhaps help you organize the wedding.”
“Oh.” The penny drops as to why she’s here and I smirk. “He did, did he.”
Such a control freak.
“This is a really big honor for me.” She smiles hopefully.
“He said that you might decline, but I want you to know that I am very organized and I can do all the running around for you and I’m great with spreadsheets and am multilingual.
If you show me what you want I can find options and bring them back for you to look over.
I can work all hours and am happy to do site inspections or anything that you may need,” she blurts out in a rush.
Hmm, that does sound pretty good, actually….
“But where do you live, is Nice too far for you to come every day? I’m based here, so I would need someone in my store with me.”
“Mr. Prescott said that a driver would pick me up and drop me off each day if you accept,” she fires back without hesitation.
“And I can be your PA for other things too, not just the wedding. I could work in the store here with you when you need me, and I can help you in the office. I can do payroll and ordering.”
I can tell she really wants to do this.
“Okay, Freya.” I smile. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you.”
“Really?” She seems surprised.
“Yes. I could use the help, but you must know that maybe I will steal you away from Mr. Prescott permanently.” I throw her a playful wink.
Jonty walks around the corner and stops dead on the spot as he sees Freya, her eyes light up when she sees him and they stare at each other in awe.
Aww, cute.
Her eyes flick back to me, embarrassed that she just ogled my worker. “That could work out well.”
“Great.” I smile, my eyes flick to Jonty, who looks like he just saw a ghost. “Jonty, this is Freya, she’s going to be working with us from now on.”
“She is?” He smiles goofily.
Oh god.
“Can you start tomorrow, Freya?” I ask her.
“Of course.” She gives an awkward wave to me and Jonty. “See you tomorrow. Thank you for the opportunity.”
She disappears out the door and Jonty smiles after her. “Well, isn’t she just the most perfect thing to have ever stepped foot in here.”
“Behave, Jonty.” I air quote the word. “Work friend.”
EDWARD
“Throw the rope,” he yells.
I whip the heavy rope as it lies along the deck.
“Harder,” he yells. “Move it.”
My two arms scissoring, I whip the rope as hard as I can. It’s heavy, cumbersome, and fucking hard work. I started fully dressed, shorts, shirt, and sweater, but as the training heated up, so did I.
I’m now in shorts only, wet with perspiration, and gasping for air; my personal trainer, Marko, is kicking my ass.
Fuck this guy.
“Edward,” Marcel calls as he leans over the balcony from the floor above. “You have a visitor.”
I pant in search of air and unable to reply. I walk around in circles with my hands on my hips, trying to catch my breath. “Who?”
“Miss Anant.”
“Who?” I yell.
“Miss Anant.” His voice is muffled.
“Who?” I screw up my face. “I can’t fucking hear you.”
Isadora walks around the corner and I roll my eyes. Fucking great.
“Give me five,” I tell Marko.
He leaves us alone and disappears upstairs.
“What do you want?” I snap, annoyed.
“Hermione just tried to kill me.”