I heaved a heavy sigh as I pulled up to that same damn gate with that same damn guard that I loathed. He must have known not to mess with me, because he got right on the phone. I was whisked through, and was escorted to General Pearson’s office.
“Glori.” He clasped my hands sympathetically. Yeah, he knew the whole story.
“General Pearson, I need to see Alain.”
“I’m afraid he’s out of town on assignment.”
My eyes burned as I stomped my foot in aggravation. “Look, General, I need to see him. It’s just a big misunderstanding.”
“I’m sure it is, Glori, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s out of town.”
“Yeah, so why do I get the feeling he’s hiding in the closet.”
Pearson chuckled and gestured toward the door, as though I should go check. Instead I collapsed into the chair in front of his desk. I put my head in my hands. “Oh my dear God.” That old squeaky voice again. “What if he gets killed? It’ll be all my fault.”
Pearson broke into actual laughter. “Glori, if he gets killed, it’ll be all his fault, believe me.”
I couldn’t stop the sobs. Damn the mascara.
Pearson went to get some water. He probably didn’t want to look at me another minute. Black stuff dripping down my face from two bright red eyes.
When I finally calmed down a bit, I figured I should bolt while I had some semblance of dignity. You never know who’s watching, or who’s taking pictures. I got up as Pearson returned. I waved away the water. “Thanks, General, I need to get going.”
“Glori, this won’t get to the press. Once we spoke with Mr. Carlisle, he realized there was no need to go any further with this. He suffered only a minor concussion, and he understands you could easily charge him with assault. He didn’t want that to happen.”
My mouth hung open. “Oh.”
“When Alain returns, I’ll be sure to have him speak to you. I’ll put the two of you together in a conference room if need be. I know you can work this out. I don’t want to see you two call off the wedding.”
“Thanks, General.” I ran out of the office.
***
The rehearsal dinner was that evening. Cin came knocking at my door to rouse me out of the house. I wasn’t even showered, never mind dressed.
She took a seat beside me on the bed. “Honey, did this have anything to do with Cat’s prediction about your baby girl?”
I sighed. “No Cin. You remember Clint Carlisle, the photographer?”
She gave me a knowing nod. “He was doing your photo shoot?”
“Yeah. He brought pina coladas to loosen me up. It worked. I got so loose I threw bath salts all over the place. And then I let him pose me in a tub of salts. He even talked my top off.”
“Hmm. And then Alain walked in?”
“No,” I retorted in a bright, cheery voice. “He waited until he kissed me and felt me up, under my robe.”
“Ahh.” She winced.
“It gets even better. I said to Alain, ‘Shit. I thought you were in Vienna.’ My exact words.”
“Whoa.”
“Yeah. So now he’s off on an assignment. And I’m just off. Why in heck did I do that? I love Alain with all my heart. How could I act like that?”
Cin shook her head. “They must have been some strong pina coladas.”
“Yeah.”
“Camellia told me she got word Alain can’t attend the wedding. Ellen absolutely still wants you to be a bridesmaid. People will understand he can’t be a groomsman. They know he has an unpredictable job. No one, except the family, knows there’s something wrong between you two. So please get dressed and come to the dinner.”
***
I was the bridesmaid with the dark circles and red eyes. Until Aubrey produced her sample Glori Cosmetics wonder concealer. You can lose a hundred fiancés, and still never let ‘em see you cried.
Of course, she cornered me at the entrance to the cathedral and asked how “we” are going to get Alain back. Oh brother. Getting Jimmy back with Aubrey was a piece of cake compared to this disaster. I was pretty sure Alain thought I’d do the deed with Clint.
Ever the gentleman, Papa Roberto and his cane replaced Alain as my groomsman. I felt pretty dapper ambling up and down the mile long aisle of the cathedral with a handsome eighty-year-old at my side. Yeah, the mascara wasn’t worth shit, but that concealer was terrific.
Finally, the limo took us over to the Monchsberg for the dinner. At least I was seated in between Cindy and Debbie. For once, I ate less than she did. Actually, at that point the thought of food made me want to vomit.
Cin noticed, of course. She used the same voice with me as she always did when she was coaxing Debbie to eat something. It didn’t work with me either.
Cat came over and squeezed my hand.
“I s’pose now would be a good time to get religion, huh?”
She smiled sympathetically. “Any time is a good time to call out to God, Glori.”
Before she left, I grabbed her wrist. “Look,” I stuttered. “Could you just say a little prayer for me? I know you’ve got clout up there.”
She gave me a hug. As she let go of me, I noticed her eyes were more piercing than ever. “Glori, you are always in my prayers. And nothing can separate you from God’s love. Nothing.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. That was the most comfort I felt in what seemed like a long time.
***
Paulo and Ellen’s wedding was gorgeous. Ellen looked radiant in a white silk gown, dotted with tiny, white silk flowers, and a long train. The bridesmaids wore a flattering shade of lavender.
There was a crowd that actually filled that huge cathedral. And they were all Paulo’s side of the family, really. Ellen didn’t have one relative she could invite. I had to give her credit—she was one brave girl. She came from less than nothing with an alcoholic prostitute for a mother. Who knows where her father was.
She met Paulo when she was working at the hospital as a candy-striper. That’s when David had been shot and they had no idea if he would pull through. The whole family was there, watching and waiting and praying.
I remembered how smitten Ellen was with Paulo, and he with her. Paulo never even had a girlfriend before. He was pretty immature socially. He suffered from a disease called hemophilia, which was dangerous, but well under control. Between that and being the baby of the family, Paulo was sheltered and overprotected.
I met Alain about the same time those two met. That’s about all I could think about as I marched down the aisle. I still remembered like it was yesterday. I basically threw myself at him, he was so hot.
Ellen prevailed in her pursuit of Paulo, though if it wasn’t for Cat, Eduardo would never have permitted it. When Cat announced those two were made for each other, well that was it. Even though Ellen couldn’t have gotten farther from the right side of the tracks.
Maybe Cat could work her magic with me and Alain. After all, she did predict Christina. There was some sliver of hope.
The reception at the Monchsberg Hotel was extravagant. Every detail was perfect. Of course, the music was superb. I kept my mascara in check and danced into the night with Papa Roberto, Cindy’s brothers, and all the guys whose wives felt sorry for me—Raphael, Cisco, Eduardo, and David. (Yeah, David danced an amazing waltz. But he pretty much refused to do anything else.) Aubrey kept Jimmy all to herself.
The happy couple almost fell into the fountain in the courtyard at one point. Eduardo ran over to rescue them, jabbering in Spanish so fast I had no idea what he was saying. I had to laugh. They were a really cute couple. And, God, they were happy.
The highlight of the party was when Paulo sang a song for his new bride. He’d written it just for her, and it was fantastic. Like I said, he had a tenor voice that was to die for. And as we all listened, I could see some tears. Papa Roberto didn’t try to hide them. He brought out his handkerchief. Of course, it didn’t take much to get me crying.
We threw
rose petals as they ran to the limo and off to the family home on the Costa Brava for a month’s honeymoon. They’d miss the launch of Glori Cosmetics in Vienna, but they had a good excuse.
***
Alain returned to the base in time for the Monday morning meeting. Pearson fell into his chair and faced Clemente and Lambrecht. “You two look as tired as I feel. That was a great party on Saturday, but somehow, I never caught up on my sleep yesterday.” He spun around to address Alain. “I’m sorry you couldn’t make it, Dusseault. It’s too bad about you and Glori.”
“Yes, Sir.” Alain hoped his deadpan expression would discourage commentary on his personal affairs. Pearson was probably too tired to notice the dampness on his forehead.
Pearson shuffled his papers as he yawned. “Where the hell is Hollinger?”
As the men shook their heads in unison, he came through the door.
Pearson slid a folder across the table. “Hot date with Aubrey, Hollinger?”
“No Sir. I mean—”
Pearson grinned. “Have a seat.”
“General, Adam Phelps slipped through Innsbruck—fake passport.”
“Phelps, huh? The U.S. has a Red Notice out on him.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I suppose he’s planning a little trip to Vienna for the convention. Dusseault?”
“Yes, Sir.” What else would attract the likes of Phelps to Innsbruck?
“And Lambrecht, make sure he doesn’t cause the President any concern.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Pearson let out another yawn. “Anything else we need to cover?”
Lambrecht leaned forward in his seat. “Rumor has it, Sir, that Senator Everett’s daughter met with the President of the United States recently.”
Irritation spread across Pearson’s face. “Rumor? Now who was spreading that rumor?”
“Glori and Cindy spoke with Tamara Everett. They both told my wife and me that Miss Everett met with the President—supposedly a social occasion.”
“I see.” Pearson’s face grew redder. “And we need to discuss this social occasion?”
“I believe so, Sir.” Lambrecht wasn’t going to back down.
The General rose from his seat and gripped the edge of the table. Alain thought steam would rise from his head.
Lambrecht persisted. “I understand the President and Senator Everett were personal friends at one point. I understand it must have been difficult for the President to order his execution. And I understand there could be a reason that the President would have a social visit with Senator Everett’s daughter. Perhaps he was feeling guilty about his involvement in the Senator’s death. But I would think you would be privy to that, Sir.”
“And if I were—why would I discuss it with you?”
“Because I’m charged with protecting the President while he’s in Vienna. Because the President returned to her the eight million dollars she paid to Colonel Johnson—a traitor she was somehow involved with, at least as a teenager.”
Pearson seethed. “All right, I’ll head down that garden path with you. It’s not a pretty one. As you well know—Colonel Johnson was a traitor—right under our noses—for years. He was in cahoots with Senator Everett—probably all along. He’s responsible for the murder of fourteen of our best agents. Not to mention the rest of the mayhem he caused. How does that look for me, as leader of this organization?” Pearson surveyed the faces of his four men. There was not a sound.
He blew out a breath and stood straight. “It doesn’t look good for me—and it doesn’t look good for this organization right now. Johnson’s dead and buried, and he could still bring us all down. The President told me he’ll be discussing this matter with the allies. He didn’t tell me when this will happen. So there you have it. See to it the President survives his trip to Vienna.”
Pearson stomped into the hall and slammed the door shut behind him.
Clemente swung around in his seat. “Nice job, David. What’s the point of dredging all this up? The allies would be crazy to shut us down.”
“Politicians do what’s in their self interest at the moment. We’ve certainly learned that by now,” Alain said.
“Yeah, and right now, with all the media coverage we’ve been getting—we’re still worth them keeping us around.” Jimmy poured himself another coffee.
Clemente got in David’s face. “What? Is Debbie painting again?”
David remained silent.
“We still don’t know what that last one with the ‘Z’ on it was all about,” Alain said. “What’s that trying to tell us?”
***
The commerce convention would be four days—starting August 15. My schedule was full between getting ready for that and working on my music videos. But I wasn’t in the mood for any of it. I couldn’t get my mind off Alain. And when my brain couldn’t take another minute obsessing about him, I worried about David getting murdered at the convention.
It was all too much to take, so when an old friend in the shoe business called me from L.A., I perked up. I loved, loved, loved shoes. The higher the heel, the sexier, the better. Maybe it all started because I’m only 5’7” and that’s a tad short for a model. Maybe it’s just the shape, the color, the design, the feel. They’re like little pieces of art all by themselves. I don’t know. But I loved shoes. And in my travels I’d had so many comments from other women; I knew most females on the planet loved shoes too.
Becky had an idea. Glori would be a swimwear brand—why not shoes too? It was brilliant. Who else but me could lend the Glori cachet to shoes?
“Cool,” I said. “These’ll be some kick-ass shoes.”
“Kick-ass shoes,” Becky hollered over the phone. “I’ll be on the next plane to Austria.”
Yeah, Becky was like me a couple of years ago. If you went anywhere out of the U.S., it was a country, not a city. I smiled. Let her figure out how to get to Salzburg. She had incentive.
***
We sat on the floor of my Monchsberg office in the midst of a pile of boxes, shoes strewn everywhere. Cindy and Nita “ooo’ed” and “ahh’ed” over every pair Becky brought out. They were really cool.
I examined the heels of my favorite pair. “These are some kick-ass shoes.”
The women giggled.
“You could do some serious damage with that heel,” Nita said.
She was probably remembering the day I first met Alain. Cin and I were attacked by thugs, and I fought one of them to the ground with my shoe. Everyone thought that story was pretty funny. Today the thought of it just caused angst. I wasn’t going there. Becky would have to hear the story from someone else.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “The heel is high, but they’re sturdy, though. You can dance up a storm and that’s not gonna break. They’re quality.”
Becky smiled. She’d been supplying me with the latest fashions ever since I started modeling swimsuits. Now she had designed her own. “Glori I’d love it if we could work together on this.”
“Cool, I’ll call my lawyer.” I was in the shoe business.
***
When I left the Monchsberg that day, I was energized. Shoes could do that to me. But my kick-ass shoes turned into a kick in the ass when I got home.
I walked into the closet to find some extra space. Alain’s stuff was gone. Nothing else was taken, just his personal stuff.
I collapsed onto the floor and sobbed. How could I let the best thing in my life slip through my fingers? Shoes were great, business was great, money was great, but nothing could fill the hole in my life left by Alain.
This time I couldn’t help myself. I removed my new shoes, pounded the heels on the floor, and relived the day we first met. Cindy and I were attacked by thugs, and Alain came to my rescue. It was kind of funny, because I’d fought the guy to the ground with a ginger ale can and my spike heel shoe. When Alain showed up, I thought he was one of them. So I almost hit him in the face with my heel. But he was quick, and he snapped the heel right off.
&nb
sp; That was a weird, scary day. But it was love at first sight—even though Cin would always tease me it was lust at first sight.
When I managed to compose myself, I dialed the phone and cried at Cindy. We were still on the phone when she and Debbie pulled up to the house. As I opened the door, they both embraced me. We hugged and cried for a long time.
After a while, Cin went to make some chamomile tea. Maria always recommended it for stress. I’d need gallons of it today.
“This can’t be it, Cin. This can’t be it. We have to talk. We have to talk sometime.”
“I would think so, honey.” She put three mugs on the kitchen table.
Debbie found the tea cozy and placed it over the pot. “Alain loves you. He’ll be back.”
“David… Did David say anything? Did Alain talk to him?”
Debbie looked sheepish. “I—I don’t know. He always changes the subject when I bring it up.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, that’s a good sign. He just didn’t want to upset you, hon. Alain’s gone.”
“You don’t know that for sure, Glori.” Cin was adamant. “What about the bills, the upkeep on this place? Who’s been taking care of that?”
I blinked. I never thought about that. “Great. I’m probably in foreclosure or something.”
Cin laughed. “Honey, it takes longer than that to get messed up.”
They followed me to the desk where Alain kept the bills and papers—neatly filed in the drawer, of course. Everything seemed in order.
I scratched my head. “I don’t know, Cin. He takes care of all that stuff. I think he’d have paid the mortgage by now. He pays it from his account. But the house is in both our names.”
With Cin and Debbie over my shoulder, I made some calls. All the bills were paid up, and they’d been paid since that fateful day. Cin told me that meant something. What, I didn’t know.
In the Name of Glori (The Redemption Series: Book 3) Page 10
