Chapter 22 – Wick
Chapter Twenty-Two
WICK
The night goes well. I let Clarice haul me and Belle around the room.
Everyone loved her dress, and Belle repeated the designer’s SNS handle so much that I have it memorized, too.
There were no questions about my identity, although I swear I heard a couple people whisper to each other that the surgery to remove my warts was spectacular. I guess some rumors will never die.
The gazes of a few men linger far too long on Belle’s frame and face. I resist the urge to throw my tux jacket over her head and settle for glaring the men into submission. I must be fairly convincing because a small island of space develops around us.
Belle and I entertain ourselves by watching the lunch ladies’ faces grow even more horrified as they realize that I really am Charles Wickham and Belle is now Mrs. Charles Wickham.
They are torn between trying to stay out of shooting range and wanting to come and kiss ass.
Ms. Scott, the one to apologize first, opts to try to curry favor with Belle by bringing her food and champagne.
“Whatever did you do to Mandy Scott?” Clarice asks Belle after Scott had dropped off a plate of sweets. “I’ve never seen a kind word fall from her lips that didn’t involve her little crew of museum harpies.”
“It wasn’t me,” Belle explains. “It’s Charles. He, um—”
“I blackmailed them,” I chime in. “They were rude to Belle earlier, and I wasn’t having it.”
“It was a lot,” Belle admits.
“Just enough by the sounds of it.” Clarice laughs and claps her hands. “A man who doesn’t stand up for his wife is no man at all.”
“I want to say that I’m above that because I don’t need to rely on a man to fight my battles, but I admit it was nice to be defended.” Belle nudges my shoulder with hers. I pull her close to me and kiss her temple.
“What were you blackmailing them with?” Clarice is all bright-eyed. “I love good gossip.”
“It’s nothing that you don’t already know, Clary. I bought a few shares of Marbel and tattled on Mrs. Berch and her horsey lover. I’m not exactly sure, but I think Timberline might be practicing without a license.”
“Would not surprise me in the least. He’s a terrible lawyer. What do you have on Mandy Scott, though?”
“Nothing yet, but obviously she has something to hide.”
We all swing our gazes toward the redhead, who we can see turns pale even in the dimly lit room.
Clarice stands up. “I have to figure out what her secret is or I will not be able to sleep tonight.” She scurries off, leaving Belle and me alone.
Or alone as two people can be in a packed charity gala.
I stroke the side of her face and smooth a strand of hair off her forehead.
She’s so beautiful that I ache inside. I want to take her home, love her, show her how much I cherish her.
“I don’t know if I will ever get used to this.” Her attention drifts around the room. I swallow a sigh and reach for my drink. “There are actual celebrities here. I literally saw her in a movie theater a month ago.”
“Are there?” I don’t think I’ve taken my eyes off of Belle enough to notice.
“Is she here with that comedian? I didn’t know they were dating.”
“Do you want to meet her?”
“No. I want to preserve the magic of her as an actress so that I can slip into that make-believe land the next time she stars in a movie.” Belle laughs a little to herself.
“This is all very extraordinary, but honestly, I like having you to myself. There are so many women here eyeing you like you’re the finest piece of meat and they haven’t eaten in a month. ”
The ache intensifies. I bring her fingers to my mouth. “I’ve thought about disemboweling a few men. You should save me from myself.”
“How so?”
“Take me home.”
“Home.” She ponders the word, rolling it over her tongue. “I never thought I’d have a home of my own. It’s a future I didn’t envision for myself.”
“You have a home and me.” I pull her to her feet and tuck her hand in my elbow. “Clarice loves you, by the way. You’re going to have to set some boundaries or she’ll be dragging you everywhere.”
“Maybe I want to be dragged.” She waves goodbye to my friend, who is standing with Ms. Scott. Clarice motions that she’ll be calling Belle soon. “A new friend. A new home.” She peers up through her eyelashes. “And you.”
“I’m going to have to do something special to get to the front of that list. I can’t have you putting Clarice before me.”
“She’s going to tell me gossip. That’s a pretty big deal.”
“I’ve got big things too,” I growl, lifting her off her feet.
We’re moving too slowly. I power my way through the crowd, who are all aflutter that I’m carrying Belle, but I don’t care that I’m causing a scene.
The need to be back at the apartment, alone with my wife, is overriding every other thought.
“Belle! Belle!” A duet of irritating voices call out my wife’s name as we exit the hall. Her sisters come rushing toward us. “Mr. Wickham, I’m so sorry. We’re”—the older one whose name I’ve forgotten gestures between her and her sister—“so sorry for the mix-up and the things we said before.”
“Very sorry. We’ve been traveling, and our tempers were short, although that’s no excuse,” says the other one.
I want to blast these two into outer space.
Their sins aren’t just being rude to me and Belle today, but the insults they’ve delivered to her that have whittled down her self-confidence and eroded even her ability to dream.
She never thought to have a home for herself?
They’re lucky I don’t do more than sweep by them without a word.
Belle remains silent until we get into the car. “I almost forgave them out there. I felt sorry for them and almost said everything was okay, but it’s not okay.”
I tuck her into my lap, hugging her as tightly as possible. “It’s definitely not okay. One apology doesn’t mean they’re sorry. They’ve just realized you belong to a special circle of people, and they want that access. You’re not a bad person for saying no.”
She sucks in a deep breath and nods. “Right. I’ll think about it tomorrow.”
“Good idea. For now, let’s concentrate on this. On us.” I slant my mouth across hers, shutting out the rest of the world, narrowing our party down to two. For now, for always, we will only need each other.