“We should get back,” I whispered softly, reluctantly breaking the kiss.
“Yes, I suppose we should.”
As we made our way back downstairs, the party seemed to be in full force. People were taking advantage of the champagne and food and genuinely seemed to be having a good time.
“I’ll be right back.” I nodded as Drake kissed me once on the cheek. I found Michael and Trey standing nearby and walked to their corner.
“Well, well, well.” Michael eyed me suspiciously. “I know what a just fucked face looks like.”
“Apparently you don’t,” I spat back. “We were just kissing, thank you very much. Not that I need to explain myself.”
“Hey, if you wanna ditch this lame ass party, I don’t blame you,” he snorted.
I turned my attention to Trey. “God bless you for being able to handle this man.” I laughed. Michael’s face turned a bright shade of red. “Hey, you started it.”
“I was only playing, sweetie. The party’s fine. It’s all the uppity-business looking people that scare me.” His lip curled up in disgust. I laughed, unable to deny it. I had gotten used to this, being around business people and having to listen to their business talk.
“Well, make sure you keep Mom and Dad company, while I go mingle, k?”
“No worries. Stella stole them away an hour ago.”
Just as I went to find Drake, I saw him. I blinked several times, not believing what my eyes were showing me. What the hell was he doing here?
-----<>-----
8
Drake
Watching Molly from afar would never get old. I watched as she and Michael bantered over something. There relationship still doesn’t make sense to me. They fought like brother and sister, but loved each other as husband and wife—or rather gay husband and straight wife. Either way, it was cute.
She flipped her hair as she moved swiftly across the room. Our eyes locked for a split second before her eyes dart to something else. Just as I was about to walk back up to her, someone approached me from the side.
“Drake, darling.” Violet. And she’s wasted. The only reason she was invited was that I invited Stanley and Dan. She’s been pretty harmless, which I know I have Stanley to thank for that. He’s been a great influence on her, making sure she always acts appropriately.
“Are you alright, Violet?” I asked, letting her lean on me for support.
She ignored my question and began stuttering. “I just—just want you to k-know how happy I am for you!”
Her eyes are glazed over, and I could tell she’d had way too much champagne. “Thank you, Violet. However, I think you need to stop drinking now.” I looked around for Stanley, hoping to get his assistance.
“I was such a bitch to you,” she spit out. “I’m so sorry I ever let you go, Drake. Really. You’re a great guy. I never should’ve acted that way.”
“Thanks, Violet. I appreciate that.”
“And I should’ve told you about Liam. God, I’m an idiot. W-will you ever forgive me?” she slurred, her eyes begging for forgiveness.
I gave in, not even certain she’d remember this conversation by morning. “Of course, Violet. Water under the bridge,” I assured her.
“We’re not under a bridge, silly.” She laughed, playfully as she hit me on the shoulder. Shit, she’s wasted.
“Riiiight.” I don’t know what else to do with her, but I knew she was fucking hammered. “I’m going to go find Stanley. You should go home.”
“No, Drake! Don’t leave me,” she begged. “Stanley’s too busy with Don anyway,” she slurred again.
“Dan,” I corrected her.
“Well, what the fuck ever.”
I tried not to laugh, but drunk-Violet was hilarious. “Okay, I’m going to lead you to a chair now before you fall on top of me.”
“Oh, Drake, I love your dirty talk.”
Oh good Lord.
Stanley finally came to my rescue. He knelt down and grabbed her face in his hands.
“Violet? Are you okay, sweetie?”
“I’m fine! Why do you all insist I’m not?” she snapped.
“Well, for starters, you’re hitting on your ex at his engagement party with his fiancé a few feet away,” Stanley stated, laying it all out there. “And with your boyfriend right in front of you,” he added just for good measure.
“I’ll leave you two alone. I can call a cab if you want,” I said, patting him on the shoulder.
“Thanks, man. I’ll call for my driver.
I nodded and left them to be alone. I finally spotted Molly, and she looked as if she had just seen a ghost. Her face was pale and her eyes were wide open, not blinking.
I walked straight to her, but before I could reach her, Blakely and her date were giving her hugs goodbye. I thanked her as well for coming and shook Colin’s hand.
“Everything okay?” I whispered in Molly’s ear, taking her hand in mine.
“Fine. Just a little tired. Thinking maybe I should sit down.”
“Okay, I just want you to meet Stanley’s new partner real quick. I’ve been talking about you for weeks, and he’s demanded a face to the name. Otherwise he doesn’t believe me.” I chuckled lightly.
“Sure.”
I found Dan amongst the crowd and tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention.
“Drake! Awesome party. Did you see where Stanley went?” he asked before I could do my introductions.
“He took Violet home. She was sloshed.”
“Oh, go figure. She was milking the champagne bar pretty hard.” We both laughed.
“Well, I want you to meet my fiancé, the future Mrs. Stagliano.” I took a step out, giving a full view of Molly. Her eyes locked with Dan’s and her face went pale again. She stood silent, not saying a word as Dan held his hand out. Shit, maybe she shouldn’t be standing up any longer.
Just as I was about to mention she rest, she finally cleared her throat and spoke. “It’s a pleasure. Dan, right?”
“Yes. And the pleasure is all mine.” He wore a genuine smile. He took her hand in his and was just about to kiss it before she yanked it away.
The jerk of her hand out of his grasp shocked me. I was confused by Molly’s reaction. She was always so polite and respectful when meeting my work colleagues.
“Sorry, I-I just need to rest. Been standing too long,” she insisted.
“Of course,” Dan replied. “Congrats and best of luck to you.”
She nodded, tilting her head down without saying a word.
* * *
The party went damn near perfect. I couldn’t have asked for a better turn out. And to watch Molly’s reaction was priceless. This whole day was about her. Breakfast, the massage, the charm bracelet, the dress, the party—it was all for her. She deserved it and more. She deserved everything.
By the time the caterers left, Molly had long been passed out in bed. I hoped she hadn’t overdone it with standing too long, but I was happy she was able to enjoy one last event before the babies arrive.
I watched as she lay in bed, peacefully wrapped around her body pillow. Her body was changing rapidly, swelling, and expanding—but she was stunning. I loved watching her body change, growing our babies inside her. I’ve never felt anything like it—the overprotectiveness, the love I felt when I would see her rub her belly, the feeling that I might fuck it all up—it was all jumbled into one large anxiety attack waiting to happen.
I stripped down and carefully, without waking her up, crawled into bed next to her. I just couldn’t help myself. I wrapped my arms around her, spreading my warmth against her chilled body.
Her body curved against mine, fitting just perfect together with her body pillow on the other side, holding her in tight. Unable to resist her bare neck, I leaned in and kissed it gently. She must’ve showered before bed because I could taste the fruity mix of her shampoo and body wash.
I continued kissing her softly, needing to taste her when she moaned in her sleep and mu
mbled something. I froze, not wanting to wake her from her dream when she continued wrestling in her sleep.
“No…I said no,” she whimpered. My lips froze, keeping my ear close to her mouth so I could hear her better. “Please, don’t! Stop!”
She screamed out the last one, jerking me away from her completely. I jumped onto my knees and carefully turned her body over so she was lying on her back. She had tears rolling down her cheeks, her face pale and cold.
“Molly? Baby, wake up,” I said softly, gently shaking her awake. Her eyes shot open, and she screamed once again before she realized it was only me.
Her eyes stayed frozen for a moment before they finally moved and looked at mine. “Are you alright?” I asked, worried.
“He’s here,” she replied softly.
“What are you talking about? Who’s here?” She wasn’t making any sense.
“Denny,” she muttered, her eyes staying wide with fear. “Denny’s here. I saw him.”
“When? Sweetheart, what are you talking about?”
“Denny! He was here tonight,” she insisted. She was starting to freak me out. I got up and clicked the side lamp on so I could see her better.
“Baby, listen to me. It was just a dream, okay? You’re safe. He’s not here.”
She pushed herself up and leaned against the bedrail. “He’s Stanley’s partner,” she explained.
I lowered my brows at her, curiously. “Molly, that was Dan. Dan is Stanley’s business partner.”
“I’m not an idiot, Drake. His name is not Dan. It’s Denny.”
“I think maybe you’re over-tired. Perhaps you over-did it.”
“No, that’s not it,” she persisted, clenching her mouth. “He lied. His name is Denny.” Her voice was deep, threatening almost.
I’m not sure why she insisted his name was Denny. I knew she had been going through a lot lately, and that perhaps she just needed some rest.
“Did you have a nightmare? Maybe you’re confused.”
She whipped the covers off her and stood up. “I’m not fucking confused.”
I stood up next to her and gently placed my hands on her shoulders to sit her back down.
“Sweetheart, you need to sit down, please. We’ll figure this out, okay?” She agreed and got back in bed finally. “Can I get you some juice?” She nodded and covered herself back up.
As I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, my mind raced with thoughts of what Molly said. Could it be true? Did he look familiar to Denny? That had to be it. There was no other possibility.
I handed Molly a glass of juice and watched as she chugged it down. She started to look a little better, but I was still worried about her.
“Better?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Does he look like Denny?” I cautiously asked.
“No, he is Denny,” she responded calmly.
“How do you know? It’s been years since you’ve seen him, Molly. I’m sure he’s changed by now.”
“A few months ago, Stella, Michael, and I were at the café when Stanley showed up. He said he was meeting someone there for a business meeting. Denny showed up. He was his business meeting. I got Stella and me out of there right away before we could be introduced. I knew it the second I saw him, Drake. I never thought I’d see him again, so I didn’t say anything.”
I stood there, watching her lips move. I wasn’t sure what to think. How could she know it was him after all these years? I wanted to believe her, I really did. But with her hormones lately and the nightmare she just had, I didn’t know what to think.
“So why is he going by Dan now? Do you think he recognized you?” I asked, needing to get more information.
“He’s lying. Isn’t it easy to change your name or something now? And no, I don’t think he did. You never told him my first name.”
Well shit.
We lay in bed as I analyzed everything in my mind. I believed Molly. I believed that she believed it was Denny. I wasn’t quite sold on it yet, and I felt horrible for that. However, when I was doing all my research on Denny when I thought he was the one behind the notes, I looked into his background. His business was in Iowa. From the looks of what I found, it was going very well. There’d be no reason to partner up with Stanley, or any business for that matter, unless he was looking to branch out and eventually sell.
There were no documents showing a name or identity change. As far as I knew, he was Denny from Iowa.
I massaged Molly back to sleep, hoping to get more answers out of her in the morning. It would be hard to ignore it, knowing that she believed it was him. I’d have to talk to Stanley and see if he had any details on his background before I would know for sure.
* * *
By Monday, Molly had calmed down some, but still insisted the man was in fact Denny. I promised to look into it and find out all the information I could. I just wanted to help her realize that it wasn’t Denny, that perhaps she was just paranoid still.
I spoke with Stanley and asked to get all his records about his new partner. I BS’ed my way through an excuse so he wouldn’t suspect anything odd. If he was in fact Denny, I didn’t want Stanley bursting the bubble just yet.
“Drake? You have a carrier here for you with a large package. You need to sign for it,” Carla’s voice rang over the intercom.
“Send it in,” I responded. It was the documents from Stanley that I had requested. I was eager to get a good look at them now while I could.
After signing and thanking the messenger, I ripped into it right away. Daniel Ronald West—ID, birth certificate, background check and information, banking information, every single job he’s ever had, education transcripts—Stanley really went all out on sending me everything he possible could.
I spent hours looking through them, trying to put the pieces together. This guy had nothing on Denny. Not even from the same state. No criminal history. Not even a bounced check.
I Googled Denny McMillan but came up short on pictures. He didn’t have a Facebook page or even a Twitter. All I found was his business webpage, but no pictures of him.
I decided it was a long shot, but I went for it anyway and called the business number.
“McMillan Industries, how may I direct your call?”
“Yes, hi, I’m looking to speak with Denny McMillan, please?”
“Do you have an appointment?” she asked roughly.
“Um no. My name is Drake, I’m the CEO of Riverside Hotel. I just need like two minutes,” I pleaded.
“Hold on,” she muttered.
A few minutes later, I was directed to another line. “This is Mr. McMillan.”
“Hi, Mr. McMillan, so sorry to intrude. I’m Drake Stagliano, CEO of Riverside Hotel and Restaurant Cooperation in Chicago, I hope to take a few minutes of your time?”
I heard a shuffle and some movement before he responded. “Yes, what can I do for you?” His voice sounded deep, almost as if he was taken back.
“Can you verify that you are the CEO of McMillan Industries? I’m sorry to be so blunt, but my company is looking to reach out into some new endeavors and we’re still in the experimental mode,” I lied. “Your company was on our list of expansion opportunities.”
“I’m sorry, you said this was Drake Stagliano?”
“Correct.”
I listened as he cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with my unexpected call.
“Yes, this is Mr. McMillan, the CEO, however, we aren’t looking to branch out at this time.”
Well, if Denny is here, who the hell did I just speak to?
-----<>-----
9
Molly
Seeing Denny in my house made me want to throw up. And not from nausea. Just the mere sight of him in my house, the thought of touching his hand, and the idea of his presence made me sick.
I didn’t want to make a scene and tell Drake who that man really was, but after the dream I had, I knew I had to tell him. I knew I couldn’t keep it a secret
any longer.
After waking up from my nightmare of his hands touching me, his body hovering over mine—I completely freaked. I felt anger. I wanted revenge. I wanted to take him down and dig his grave. And the only way to do that was through Drake. He’d take him down. Hell, he’d get things done to him, and I wouldn’t even considering asking about it.
But never did I think Drake wouldn’t believe me. Sure, I’d been a hormonal, emotional nutcase lately, but I knew Denny’s face. I knew it the moment his hand touched Stanley’s shoulder and his face became visible. You don’t just forget a face. Especially his face. And even though it had been years since I had seen him, I knew.
I could tell Drake was skeptical, but that he’d figure it out for himself. Drake was stubborn like that, always needing the facts first, which I guess in the end I didn’t blame him. Considering what happened with Travis, I’m surprised he hadn’t put a GPS tracking device surgically into my body by now.
My days were beginning to blend. I didn’t know what day it was anymore. I slept most of the day while the kids were at school and Drake was at work, but Michael continued to work from home to watch me. I was in a funk—get up with Stella to watch her off for school, take a shower, eat breakfast, lie in bed, read, watch movies, take a nap, wait for Stella and Drake to get home, eat dinner, bed, and repeat. It was becoming monotonous—boring, old, and exhausting—monotonous. I was starting to think I was going crazy.
“Michael?” I called out.
“Yes, babe?” He walked into my bedroom, holding a notebook in his hand and a pen behind his ear. He’d been working overtime lately, blogging, doing interviews, and visiting fashion shows.
“Can you grab lunch for me? I’m thinking…Panera.” I gave him my best pleading eyes.
“Um…you asked me to order you subs less than two hours ago.” He eyed me wearily, walking closer to me now.
“I did?”
“Yeah. Don’t you remember? You were flipping through channels when you saw a Subway commercial? You texted me? And I said I would at 1, after my conference call.”
Kitchen Promises (Riverside Trilogy, #3) (The Riverside Trilogy) Page 9
