Married by Monday (Weekday Brides)

by Catherine Bybee

  “I tried.”

  Mrs. Sweeny struggled with the pot in her arms and shifted on her feet. “They’ve been here, but not many of them are hiding in the bushes. I’ve only had one broken rose bush this time.”

  Samantha and Blake’s marriage brought on a circus of paparazzi attempting to capture the new duchess doing something naughty. Poor Mrs. Sweeny lost many buds that year.

  “I’ll pay for any damage, Mrs. Sweeny.”

  “I know, I know. I’m just so happy for you. Here.” She lifted the pot higher and Eliza reached for the smelly stew.

  “It’s my famous linguine and clam sauce. I know how much you like it. Being newly married and all, you probably won’t be in the kitchen very much.” The older woman winked, leaving Eliza a little baffled. Who knew Mrs. Sweeny carried such wicked thoughts.

  “Thank you.” Eliza took the pot from her neighbor and ignored the nauseous smell of the attempt at fishy pasta. Poor Mr. Sweeny must not have any taste buds left. None of the neighbors escaped a homecoming, welcome baby, happy bride pot of gritty clams in a sauce that might be white, but wasn’t creamy, covering cheap linguine. But the thought was always welcome and no one told Mrs. Sweeny that the contents made its way directly into the garbage disposal in the sink.

  “No problem at all and congratulations, dear. You let your husband know he has my vote.”

  Mrs. Sweeny waved as she walked away.

  Inside the house, Samantha and Gwen were already running the water in the sink.

  Gwen held her nose and Sam turned away as the food went down the drain. “We saw her talking to you and smelled this from upstairs.”

  “How can she eat this stuff?”

  “Have you ever seen her eat it? Seems she is always giving it away.”

  The noise from the compactor filled the kitchen until all of the odiferous food was gone. “You’re going to have to burn a scented candle to get the smell out of here,” Eliza told Gwen.

  “I’m ahead of you. One is burning in the living room already.”

  “Smart girl.”

  Eliza washed her hands and prayed she didn’t smell like fish. “Well, I think that’s it.”

  Eliza gave Gwen a hug and turned to Samantha. “Thanks for helping me pack. Carter and I are going to work out a schedule between his campaign and Alliance. I’ll be back to work next Monday.”

  “Take some time off, get settled.”

  “I’d go crazy doing nothing. I’ll be back on Monday.”

  Samantha knew better than to argue and dropped her concerns. As they walked out the door, Mrs. Sweeny’s conversation about broken rose rang in her ears.

  “Gwen, have you seen any paparazzi outside the house?”

  “No, why?”

  “Mrs. Sweeny said something about her roses. Maybe it was Zod.”

  “I know how to handle the media. Don’t worry.”

  “Be careful. And call if you need anything.”

  Gwen hugged her again. “I’m not a child.”

  “I know.”

  “I’ll walk you out. I need to get home myself,” Sam said.

  Eliza took one last look at the house as she waved goodbye. “There goes a chapter of my life,” she whispered to herself.

  “What was that Mrs. Billings?”

  Eliza turned to her bodyguard and called Zod to her side. “Nothing.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Hey, Harry! You have a visitor.”

  Harry looked at the face of the guard and considered the man’s words. A visitor? Who? He wanted to ask but kept his mouth shut. Visitors had been limited since his incarceration. Funny how when you swindle your friends and destroy your family people have no use for you. He’d made this bed and slept on the lumpy mattress every night of his pathetic life.

  Harry pushed himself off the bench where he had been reading a paper and followed the guard to the visitor’s room.

  The space was vacant. Only he and the guard stood on the inmate side of the protective glass. Halfway down the flank of chairs sat a man dressed in a tailored business suit Harry would have worn on the outside. He recognized the man, though they had never met. Harry’s heart sped in his chest and for the first time in years, his palms grew moist. He shoved down the drop of hope that threatened to take hold and spread into a lake of want. Wanting what he could never have would only breed discord and pain. Though he deserved it, he avoided emotional pain as much as possible.

  Harry sat in the government issue chair and considered the man in front of him.

  He picked up the phone and patiently waited for the other man’s move.

  “Mr. Elliot.”

  Harry tilted his head to the side. “Mr. Harrison.”

  “You know who I am?”

  “You’re married to my daughter. Of course I know who you are.”

  Blake Harrison, the Duke of Albany, stared at him through the glass.

  “You look nothing like your photos,” Blake told him.

  “Prison has a way of kicking the life out of you. Is Samantha okay? Jordan?” Hearing his daughters’ names roll off his tongue shocked even him. Regret choked him hard.

  “They’re fine.”

  “The baby?”

  “Fine.”

  Reading about your child in the papers wasn’t the same as hearing the words said aloud by someone who had contact with them. Some weight of Harry’s concern lifted. “Does Samantha know you’re here?”

  “No. Not yet.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  Blake assessed him with a deep, penetrating stare that ran through Harry’s body with a rush of power. There was a time in his life when he could make a man squirm with a look, but that wasn’t easy wearing jailhouse blues. He sat taller however, and did his best not to look away.

  “Why did you do it?” Blake asked. “You had to know you’d get caught sooner or later.”

  Harry blinked. Blake wasn’t there to ask about his past crimes but something told him his answer would either gain Blake’s trust, or dispel it. Having the trust of your daughter’s husband might mean catching a glimpse of his grandchild or daughter outside of a newspaper article.

  “You’re a business man. You understand the power of money.”

  “Money-induced power can be a curse.”

  Harry nodded. “Precisely.” Money was Harry’s addiction. It didn’t matter that he had more than he could ever spend. Each week his portfolio grow. He acquired everything a man could want and lost his family, his freedom, in return.

  They both sat for a moment and said nothing. Again, Blake stared and Harry felt his heart kick higher.

  “Do you think of your daughters?”

  He thought of the only items in his cell he might consider isolation time to keep safe. “Every day.”

  “How come you’ve never tried to call Samantha?”

  Harry looked away. “I don’t deserve her. I’ve only brought her pain.” His throat tightened and he swallowed hard.

  Blake shook his head, clearly struggling with what he wanted to say. “I need you to do something for me, Mr. Elliot.”

  “What can I possibly do for you?”

  Their eyes met. “I need you to destroy every picture, every article, every anything in your possession about us.”

  His palm ached with the death grip he had on the phone. “Why?”

  “There is someone inside who doesn’t need to know about us or our friends.”

  Harry considered his son-in-law with narrowed eyes. “Are you going to tell me who this man is?”

  “I’m not at liberty. But for the sake of your daughters, and the people they love, you need to do this.”

  “One more minute, Harry,” the guard informed him.

  He contemplated Blake’s request and affirmed it with a nod. “Take care of them.”

  “I will.”

  Harry replaced the phone on the hook and took one last look at Blake before he walked away.

  ****

  “The press want
s to see both of you, on stage in full color.” Jay tapped his pen against the legal pad sitting on his lap and stared at both of them. “If you don’t hold a press conference about your marriage, you’ll be hounded until you forgot what it was like to go into a public bathroom without a camera in the next stall.”

  Carter closed his eyes and shook his head. When had life become so damn complicated? Eliza ran a finger along his forearm and he tried to smile.

  Now that he knew the truth behind why she hid, he understood the need to keep her beyond reach and out of the spotlight. Dean had been right. Eliza should have run. Carter felt selfish knowing she stayed because he asked her to marry him. The image of innocent women murdered at the hands of Sanchez threatened to surface, but he pushed them back.

  “Carter?”

  He blinked a couple of times until Eliza’s chocolate eyes met his. “Yeah?”

  “I think we need to let Jay in on what’s going on.”

  “Let Jay know what?” Jay asked. The smaller man kept tapping his pen and switching his gaze from one of them to the other.

  Carter ran a hand through his already tousled hair. To tell Jay anything was risky. But then marrying Eliza and showing her off to the world had been ludicrous. He knew that now.

  Eliza fingers rolled in small circles over his as if coxing him into submission. If anything ever happened to her, it would be his fault. Had he listened to Dean and pushed, maybe she would be safe. Secluded from her friends, but safe.

  “Let Jay know what?” Jay bit out.

  There was already speculation on the news about Eliza’s background. It appeared his rival in the gubernatorial race wanted a full background check and immigration status of Eliza Havens Billings. With illegal immigration at the top of California’s hot topics, having a possible illegal as the first lady of the state was Carter’s ticket to second place.

  He couldn’t bring himself to care.

  Yet being the governor, or running for office, afforded him some insight and protection that Carter Billings the judge or lawyer didn’t have.

  No. He needed to see this through.

  And he needed to call in a few favors.

  He turned his palm over and laced his fingers with hers. “Eliza has been part of the witness protection program. Her name was changed to protect her.”

  Jay’s pen stopped tapping, and his gaze swiveled to Eliza. “Really?”

  She lifted her eyebrows and nodded. “Yeah.”

  Jay stood and started to pace like a man who had drunk six cups of coffee before his first union break. “So that’s why the extra security? Someone is after you?”

  “It’s possible.”

  “Who else knows this?”

  “Close friends, close family… Why?”

  Jay rubbed his chin in thought. “Now that you’re married this is going to come out. You know that, right?”

  Eliza’s slow nod let him know she wasn’t completely prepared for what would come next.

  “What about your uncle?”

  “Max?”

  “Yeah, him.”

  “We’re not close.”

  “But he’s family. The voting public is aware of that. I’ve said all along you needed to tap into his connections, and now it seems you have no choice.”

  “Max can’t be relied upon.”

  “He’s up for election in two years. He’ll obtain votes however he can.”

  “What are you suggesting, Jay?” Carter leaned forward and listened.

  “That we blow the lid off this before anyone else. And we do it with your uncle at your side. Hell, he doesn’t even need to know why he’s there. We can tell him the media wants photos of you both.”

  “Max is vain, but not so much that he’d fly out for a photo op.”

  “What about the fund raising dinner scheduled for Saturday?” Eliza suggested.

  Carter wasn’t convinced. Making a deal with the devil might prove a better risk than his uncle. “What exactly do you think my uncle can do for us?”

  “Like it or not, Carter, Max is respected and probably feared by his peers. As you already know, politicians might sit on opposing sides of the fence on how to pass bills and run this country, but all of you have one common bond. Protect your families. What you do will reflect on Max and him on you. It would be in his best interest to stand united with you and Eliza as you move forward with this information. Max didn’t earn a senate seat being stupid.”

  Max was anything but stupid. Max was dangerous. The thought of owing him a favor rankled in Carter’s stomach like acid.

  “What’s going through your mind?” Eliza asked quietly.

  He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I don’t know if we can trust him. In fact, I know I can’t.”

  “Could he make things harder for us?”

  “In the short term, probably not.” But the devil always manages to get paid in the long run.

  Jay stood to the side and fiddled with the pen he held between his fingers.

  “Why don’t we ask your mother? She knows Max better than all of us.”

  Carter forced a smile he didn’t feel. “Yeah… Okay.”

  Eliza squeezed his hand and turned to Jay. “Make sure we have extra space at our table at the dinner. We’ll let you know what names need to be added to the guest list.”

  “Great.” Jay started to leave the room to carry out their requests. “Remember what they say, Carter. Keep your enemies close and all that...”

  ****

  Once again, Eliza used Gwen’s fashion expertise to dress her as a political wife. Carter opened his accounts for Eliza to use. As an independent woman the thought of spending someone else’s money felt wrong. Wrong or not, Eliza’s personal bank account wouldn’t hold up long under the strain of Gwen’s taste.

  It wasn’t until Carter asked her opinion on the size of a private jet that the magnitude of his wealth sunk in.

  “You’re serious?” she asked him.

  “Like I said, I can’t keep using Blake’s. He has his own business to run.” Carter pointed to the sleeping quarters within the plane. “It sleeps two. Even the chairs fully recline.”

  “It’s a plane. A jet plane.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Can you fly it?”

  “That’s what pilots are for.”

  “You’re seriously considering buying an airplane?”

  He leaned forward in his chair to peer deeper into the monitor that covered one-third the size of his desk. “I’m not sure about the interior,” he mused aloud. “I think darker colors would feel more modern.”

  Eliza closed her eyes and shook her head. “Have you seen the amount of zeros behind the first two numbers? How big is that coffee can buried in your backyard?”

  “I’ve been saving.” He clicked onto another page and grinned. “Oh, I like that better. What do you think? It seats twelve.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “I like the dark wood.”

  “You’re talking millions, Carter. You can’t be serious.”

  He clicked another page and his eyes lit up. “Now we’re talking. This has a range of over five thousand miles and it seats eighteen. Perfect.”

  Eliza grabbed his shoulders and forced him to look in her direction. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m buying a plane. What does it look like I’m doing?”

  “Why?”

  “Because we need it. I fly damn near every week, and I’m sure as hell not going to put you on a domestic flight. Blake encouraged me to invest in this years ago, but I didn’t see the need. Now, I do.”

  “Blake’s a duke. He can wipe his ass with hundred dollar bills if he wants. You don’t have to keep up with your best friend.”

  Carter cocked his head to the side and offered her a coy smile. “I’m not keeping up with the Joneses, Eliza. I’ve considered this for a while.”

  “Why now?”

  He pulled her down into his lap and perched her on his knee. His
arms circled her waist and the pure masculine scent of him surrounded her in a familiar warmth.

  “It’s time,” he said. “Time to stop pretending I don’t have the means to afford this…to take care of you.”

  Eliza lifted her hands to his broad shoulders and kneaded the muscles behind his dress shirt. “I don’t need a plane.”

  He leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. “I disagree.”

  “You’re crazy,” she told him again.

  He laughed and swiveled in the chair with her in his lap until they were both facing the monitor filled with luxury jets. “Which one do you like?”

  “Crazy.”

  “Dark wood or a light pine?”

  Eliza’s gaze found the monitor. “The light looks dated.”

  Carter’s fingers squeezed her side. “So dark it is…and we want to make it across the country without refueling, so we need one of these larger models.”

  It was hard not getting caught up in the shopping experience. But good Lord, they were looking at jet planes. “If we’re going all out, it has to have a bedroom.” Her thoughts returned to the short time they had on the return trip from Hawaii. Her cheeks grew warm.

  Carter snuggled closer and clicked the mouse on the two most expensive models on the screen. The lush interior of the jet sparkled through recessed lighting and leather reclining chairs. A bar area with a small kitchenette took up a small corner. The full bathroom contained everything a traveler could need.

  “The bed isn’t that big.”

  Carter kissed her shoulder and nuzzled her neck. “We don’t need a lot of room.”

  Eliza turned her head and found his lips. Thoughts of airplanes and bedrooms disappeared as Carter reminded her of how very little room the two of them took up on a bed.

  ****

  Abigail agreed with Jay. Though she didn’t completely trust her brother, she knew he would avoid family scandal to preserve the family name.

  Jay altered the guest list for the fundraiser by adding members of Carter’s family and members of the press. Neil’s team would handle security and the government issued bodyguards.

  The formal dinner meant wearing a floor length gown that hugged Eliza’s waist and enhanced her cleavage. Eliza scoffed at the gown at first, and then Gwen reminded her that the fashions she wore would be mimicked. Suddenly her wardrobe needed an overhaul. Assuming the role of Carter’s wife held more responsibility than she ever thought possible.