Chapter 22
G enevieve
Hatred was fed with caviar and lobster by forcing a woman who not only didn’t believe in love but hated the man she was required to marry to shop in a bridal store.
I gritted my teeth, making horrible faces at myself. The yellow bruise on my cheek hadn’t been completely covered by makeup. Just another reminder there were venomous snakes everywhere.
How many times had I demanded a decent answer from myself about why I’d agreed to the alliance and the marriage? Too many to count.
“You look beautiful.” Bella was swooning, her eyes full of mindless drivel regarding romance. I’d finally realized she’d been reading romances in her spare time.
I’d been the one to read to her as a young child, filling her head full of thoughts of princes coming to the rescue of their princesses. I was to blame for her insistence there could be a happy ever after.
Vomiting a little in my mouth at the thought wasn’t nearly strong enough.
After a single discussion with her, I’d come to the reprehensible conclusion that after everything she’d been through, her mind refused to be budged.
“I look like an ugly duckling pretending to be Cinderella.”
“Sissy. Stop. I’m jealous of you.”
If there was one thing about teenagers, they were resilient. In the two days we’d been locked in a glorious castle like two Rapunzels, she’d returned to her sassy self.
Just like I’d been at her age.
She’d even commented that a couple of the enemy soldiers were cute or in her words, edible. I had to remind myself they were no longer supposed to be my enemies, all while biting my tongue when hearing her comments.
“Jealous? Of me? Why?” I smoothed the dress down in the front, twisting from right to left. Nope. I looked like some beached whale. This dress wouldn’t do.
I stood in front of a full-length, three-way mirror, hating the way I looked. At least Bella was beaming. I’d yet to smile and was certain that wouldn’t happen any time soon.
“ Galletas y champán, senoras ,” the way too helpful, pushy store clerk offered.
Cookies and champagne. The combination was almost as tasty as donuts and red wine.
The woman was sporting a kind smile, but I’d caught on quickly that she had dollar signs in her eyes.
Maybe she was a clairvoyant or perhaps the fact she was fawning over us like a vulture had to do with the brigade we’d traveled with.
All three SUVs were parked out front, blocking way too many spaces for decent, paying customers.
Bella grinned wickedly as she snatched a cookie with one hand, grinning as if this was normal while reaching slowly for a glass of champagne with the other.
“Not a chance, Bella girl.” I fingered the one she was reaching for, admonishing the woman making the offer with my nastiest look. “How about a Coke for my sister?”
The woman frowned.
“Coca-Cola?”
“Ah, yes. Of course.” She scuttled away and I wondered if she worked on commission.
“You were mean to her,” Bella told me with her mouth full of whatever cookies were being served.
They’d looked a little suspect to me with chunks of red and green in them.
It wasn’t fruitcake season. I’d be damned if my sweet sister didn’t have the same sarcastic tone I’d become famous for.
She moved to one of the racks, flicking dresses with fervor.
“I wasn’t mean. I just don’t appreciate being patronized.”
She yanked a dress into her hand, held it out for a few seconds before bringing it to me. “Put this on.”
Scrunching my eyes, I tried to make heads or tails of what it looked like through the thin plastic. “Are you sure?”
“Trust me.”
I took a gulp of champagne and thumped the glass down. “Said the spider to the fly.”
Bella scrunched her entire face as she peered at me.
“I forgot. It’s an American saying. It’s like luring the fly into the spider’s den so the insect can become caught in the web.”
She nodded several times. “I get it. Weird, but I get it. Would you prefer living there? You’re so different.”
There was a hint of pain in her tone. I had to remind myself she was only thirteen, only eight when I’d left.
I’d been back for visits but had worked three summers during the break.
I walked closer, hating myself for not calling her more often or even sending her postcards, something she absolutely adored. The girl wanted to travel the world.
Instead, she was locked in a castle and would be for an undisclosed timeframe. I hated it for her.
Hell, I hated it for me.
“Sweet Bella. I felt I needed to find myself because if I didn’t, I was going to die. That’s what it seemed like for seventeen-year-old me who’d begged to be set free from her cage.”
“I didn’t think you’d come back.”
“Truthfully, I thought about never coming back, but Barcelona is my home. You and Marco are my family. No profession, no friendship, no glorious apartment or handsome but asinine man is worth sacrificing your family for. Remember that.”
“Was your apartment amazing? Did it have a view of the Empire State Building?” Her eyes were lit up.
“No, I wasn’t that close and while it was a nice place, it was tiny in comparison to the huge castle.” I laughed and realized how good it was to be home.
“The castle is cool, but I’m not sure about the company.”
I sucked in my breath and resisted giggling.
What would Mr. Asshole think about that?
I’d been calling him that over the last two days.
We’d carefully avoided each other. I’d sent the contract I’d prepared via email.
He’d had questions that he’d also handled that way and after arguing online for an entire day, he’d finally signed the damn thing.
Then he’d scanned it and sent it back, forcing me to print the sheets of paper for safekeeping.
He’d had the chef make incredible food, only to eat by himself in his office.
This morning, I’d had enough and had stormed my way in there, pushing aside the single brute holding court outside in the hallway only to find it locked. I’d pounded on the door demanding entrance. And what had the bastard done?
He’d ignored me.
I’d laughed and yelled through the door we were going to have the most expensive wedding in the history of Barcelona and he was paying every last euro.
He hadn’t responded.
Tonight, he and I were going to have a long discussion.
Yes, I’d perpetuated the childish behavior by telling him I would always hate him after witnessing his discussion with my brother.
I’d overheard enough that I’d been pushed into an entirely different emotional state. Much like a mama bear with her cubs.
I’d tried to be there for both my siblings, but realized that in pursuit of my own happiness, I’d forsaken their needs. I would never forgive myself. All I could do was try to give them the best life and the best advice.
I grimaced visibly and she laughed and pushed me toward the dressing room. “Hurry. I’m hungry and if I’m forced to eat another five-course meal, I’m going to puke.”
“Oh, yeah? What would my baby sister like?”
“First of all, in case you haven’t looked, I’m no baby any longer. Second, a juicy and very messy cheeseburger.”
“Now, there’s a girl after my own heart. A cheeseburger it is. But do you know what would be even better?”
Bella looked at me with light in her eyes. I’d so missed spending time with her. “I’m afraid to ask.”
“Krispy Kreme donuts.”
“Donuts?”
“Not just any donut, sissy girl, but the best donuts in the entire world. I can’t tell you how many sugar highs I had when I lived in New York. Just scrumptious.”
“Let’s get some on the way home.”
“Sadly, the very first store isn’t open yet and Madrid grabbed the honor.”
She sighed, and oh, how dramatic she could be. “You’re so weird.”
“Yes, I am and proud of it.”
At least I felt more lighthearted as I headed into the dressing room.
I took off the one from before, completely uncertain I’d ever find a simple yet stylish wedding dress I liked.
They were all too frou- frou and I wasn’t that kind of girl.
As I peeled away the plastic, a sudden vision of Jago’s face entered my mind.
He smiled so rarely, but when he did, he was truly a handsome man.
I hadn’t noticed until recently that he had a small scar under his left eye. The mere nick was nothing in comparison to the marks on his back. They were deeper scars, also longer. I had a sick feeling they were from a whip. The world was far too brutal.
Every sound I made was labored, but I reminded myself I’d entered into the deal of free will. I tore at the plastic, hopeful Bella had the magic touch. I’d tried on six, each one worse than the one before. Maybe I should wear black instead. Now that would make a delicious statement.
I slipped into the dress, shimmying back and forth until the material slid easily over my hips. For dramatic purposes, I bent down, fingering my hair then throwing it back over my shoulders as I stood before looking into the mirror.
“Holy fuck.” I slapped my hand over my mouth as I gazed down the length.
“It’s perfect.” The fit was like a glove, yet I could breathe.
There’d be no need for alterations. The damn thing was white, but with the various iridescent jewels covering strategic areas, the dress almost had a glow.
I could just imagine it under the right lighting.
A flash, a twisted image of me with roses in my arms taking slow steps down a red carpet toward my handsome groom had me reaching for the wall to steady myself.
The last thing I needed to do was to fantasize about what I was doing. It was a business transaction and nothing else.
I took a deep breath before walking from the dressing room. As soon as Bella saw me, she clapped her hands and squealed.
“That is amazing!”
With a little more dramatic flair, I stepped onto the platform, holding my head high, or as some might suggest, in a regal manner.
“That’s just beautiful, Genie. Just gorgeous. You must get that one. I insist.” She was sloshing Coke everywhere. I ignored my typical anal-retentive response.
“You really think so? I don’t look like some swan fleeing from the black swan king?”
“Stop with the animal analogy. Besides, Jago isn’t some black swan king.”
“Are you certain about that?”
She gave me the kind of look only teenagers could pull off. Sarcastic and sweet with a dose of are-you-fucking-stupid disguised as a smile. “I’m not blind nor am I deaf. The way the two of you look at each other screams of passion.”
“What would you know about passion?”
“I almost had a boyfriend once. Until Papa found out.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nope.” My kid sister had learned to pop the ‘p’ just as I’d done at her age. Where had all this come from?
“What did Papa do?”
“I didn’t ask, but Sasha didn’t come around again, nor did he try and call. Come to think of it, he switched schools too.”
“Ouch.” I grabbed my champagne, lifting the flute as a toast to myself. I did look damn hot in the dress if I had to say so.
“I’ll say. You’re different. You get to choose. I think you’re already falling in love with Jago.”
I couldn’t have spat the champagne out any faster. Thank God I didn’t get any on the dress. With Ms. Vulture standing only a few feet away glaring at me as if I’d come close to ruining the dress, I needed to watch my p’s and q’s.
Without popping the p.
“I am not falling in love with him. He’s reprehensible.
He’s arrogant. He slurps when he eats soup.
He wears clothes like he’s watched one too many episodes of Miami Vice .
He’s pigheaded and refuses to listen to reason.
He has an annoying habit of just coming into a room without being told it’s acceptable.
What’s to like about him, let alone love? ”
“ Miami Vice ?”
“Oh, come on. You’re not so young you haven’t seen reruns of the eighties American cop drama.”
She stared at me.
“Two good-looking cops in Miami? They were sizzling at work and under… Well, when not working?”
Bella shook her head. I needed to remind myself that my life had been about studying, a part-time job so I could consider myself on my own, and old television shows. That hadn’t been her life. Although I had to admit I had no idea what her life had been like.
“No clue, but it’s settled. You like him. A lot. More than a lot.” She pulled away when I tried to smack her when we both heard her stomach growling.
We lifted our heads at the same time, both holding in our laughter for a few seconds, but unable to do it any longer.
“I think it’s time for lunch.” I turned toward the puckish vulture. “I’ll take this one.”
I had the dress. I had the shoes, although I’d be wearing my boots underneath just in case I decided to become a runaway bride.
I had my own jewelry, thank you very much, which would remind me that I still had my independence.
Flowers had been ordered. The chef told to make the perfect cake with frilly little roses.
Everything was perfect. Just freaking perfect.
If only I had the right groom.