by Anna Mara
Suddenly feeling unsettled, she walked out without answering him.
* * *
Christina sat on her bed and she was shaking very badly.
This last encounter with him had really shaken her up. How can you want someone so badly yet hate them at the same time? It didn't make sense.
When she was away from him, she could think clearly and her revenge plan came back to her thoughts. But when she was physically anywhere near him, all those thoughts went out the window and her brain became mush. What was the matter with her?
Now that she'd had time to cool off after that upsetting phone call from her parents, Christina realized that she'd have to see this month through to its bitter end. She couldn't afford to have her wages garnished for the insurance money. That debt was hanging over her head. If only she could come up with something to hold over his?
She needed to concentrate more on her revenge plan, that's what she needed to do. She wouldn't think about why she'd been shaking, or why he seemed to affect her in this way, or why she wanted him so badly—that was all nonsense anyway. She'd think about her revenge plan instead.
Christina calmed down and the shaking stopped.
* * *
Bill sat on his bed and he was shaking very badly.
This last encounter with her had really shaken him up. He slicked his wet hair back with his hands. It was time to face facts, however hard that was going to be.
He loved her.
But how can you love someone who doesn't even like you back? She may have wanted him physically but Bill knew she didn't really like him. How can you love someone like that?
What an idiot he was!
When she'd announced that she was leaving, Bill had felt like he'd been punched in the gut. What would this house be like if she left? If he would never see her smile again? Or hear her laugh? Or see her scowl even? If he would never kiss her again? Or smell her intoxicating perfume? Or feel her soft skin? Or see her beautiful face?
She fascinated him.
She enchanted him.
She challenged him.
She excited him.
It sometimes felt like he'd known her all his life—that missing puzzle piece that clicked into his soul. If she walked out of here, she would leave behind a big, gaping hole in his life—and she didn't even know it. How in hell, could she have wormed her way into his heart in so short a time? How—damn it?
Bill had no idea. All he knew was that he loved her and she was going to walk out of his life today—maybe. And if she stayed until the month was up, she'd walk out of his life then. Either way, she was walking—back into the arms of someone else that she cared for because Bill knew she didn't care about him.
If he ever needed a drink, it was right now. He could bury all of these feelings in booze and not have to deal with any of them. And it would certainly stop this shaking.
He reached for his phone and began to call his Alcoholics Anonymous sponsor. He desperately needed to talk to someone, otherwise he'd make a beeline for the drinks cabinet downstairs in about two seconds flat.
Chapter 30
Over the next few days, Christina avoided him like the Black Plague. Or was he avoiding her? By the third day, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that whenever they saw each other, the only words that passed between them was a polite hello and a polite goodbye.
She'd been prepared to follow him on his nightly expeditions but he hadn't gone on any. Lately, he'd been showing up for work all day and coming home at night for dinner. After dinner, he'd stay in. The entire staff had been gossiping about nothing else.
Apparently, even William had noticed and had made a pleasing comment about it to Bentley, the butler. One of the maids had overheard it and the remark had quickly made the rounds of the house.
Although Bill had now been showing up for dinner, Christina had not. After her unsettling encounter with him in his bedroom, she needed some alone time to strengthen her resolve against him, and pleading a headache, had had her dinners sent up to her room.
Concerned about her, both Bill and William had each, on separate occasions, come up to ask if she was feeling unwell.
Lying to their faces, Christina had simply told them that it was that time of the month and she had cramps. That had instantly shut them both up and they'd scurried away like cockroaches.
Christina had also had several dress fittings with the House of Baldora for her wedding dress and engagement party dress. William had insisted that she choose whatever she wanted from sketches, no matter the cost.
For her wedding dress, she'd picked a simple white sheath that molded to her body perfectly; and for her engagement party dress, Christina had chosen a white Grecian style dress with tiny crystals beaded throughout. She hadn't asked what the costs were. She didn't want that on her guilty conscience too. Although she'd didn't feel guilty about what she was doing to Bill, she did feel terrible about fooling everybody else.
The preparations for the engagement party on the Havenwood grounds had also begun. The household staff had been getting the house ready; flower arrangements had begun to arrive, as had the tents and settings. Parties didn't happen very often at the mansion anymore—not since Mrs. Havenwood had divorced Bill's father five years ago.
Everyone was excited and giddy—everyone, except Christina.
She felt like a big, fat phony.
* * *
Bill was sitting at the boardroom table, with Vice-President Stephen Downey. Both were waiting for William to arrive.
Bill's thoughts wandered to his 'fiancée' and he half-smiled to himself. These past few days he had avoided Christina like the Black Plague.
Ever since he'd faced himself in the mirror and admitted how deeply he'd fallen for her, he couldn't bear to be near her because it only brought home to him that he could never have her—because she didn't want him.
Maybe he could do something to change her mind? Or say something? Bill had racked his brain these past few days but had drawn a blank. You can't make someone love you. It doesn't work that way.
William walked in and took his seat at the head of the boardroom table. "Gentlemen, I'm going to make this meeting brief. I want to discuss our strategy for combating these dastardly Guardians of Mother Earth terrorists that have been hounding us," he began, speaking in his proper British accent.
"Maybe we should call a meeting with one of their leaders and see how we can resolve this," Bill piped in.
"Are you mad? I'm not giving into them. They don't dictate to me how I run my blasted companies," William shouted at his son.
"The bad P. R. we're getting is affecting our sales and our share prices are down. Maybe we should…" Bill retaliated.
"Maybe—nothing! I'm not about to let everything I've built be destroyed by a bunch of unemployable crybabies who couldn't organize a piss in a brewery. We're going to fight fire with fire and I've come up with a plan to crush the bastards."
"Which is?"
William gave his son a wicked smile. "First off, I'm going to start by hiring detectives. I want all of those damn activists put on 24-hour surveillance. I want to know who they are and where they sleep. Who knows, maybe they live in glass houses too? Second… I'm going to plant spies inside GME. They'll pretend to be fellow environmentalists, willing to do anything for the cause. Not only will I get inside information but I'll also make sure they stir up a batch of 'trouble' stew." He laughed, pleased with himself.
"How clever of you," Bill sarcastically remarked.
"I'm not standing for their nonsense any longer," William said before turning to his VP Stephen. "Downey?"
"Yes sir?" Stephen was sitting at attention.
"I suspect that someone from one of my companies is feeding those hoodlums inside information. I need you to ferret them out."
"Of course, sir," Stephen quickly responded.
Bill was nonchalantly doodling on the report in front of him. "What makes you think that?" he casually asked.
"Because
they know too many details about my activities and how my businesses are run, things only an insider would know." William turned to his VP, "Stephen, get started on my ideas immediately."
"Yes, sir."
"You may go; I need to speak to my son in private," William waved his VP away. Stephen obediently rose from his seat and left the room.
Bill folded his arms across his chest and disappointed, glared at his father.
"Don't look at me like that," William began. "I'm doing this for us."
"There's a better way, dad."
"Like what?"
"Like maybe these people have a point! Those pipelines are disintegrating and that oil is leaking into the environment. We're destroying the Russian Arctic."
"And what would you have me do, huh? Do you know how much money I would lose if I refused to pump oil through that pipeline? It's not my fault if the whole damn Russian infrastructure is falling apart." Frustrated, William pounded the table with his fist.
Equally upset, Bill stood up. "You wouldn't exactly be forced to line up at the food bank," he threw back.
"That's not the point; and I didn't call you in here to discuss my ethics."
"Or lack of them," Bill retorted.
William eyed his son. The boy had developed some balls lately. He'd been standing up to William's bullying tactics—and William knew it was because of the girl.
William had enjoyed the game he'd been playing with the both of them—manipulating them by adding more and more pressure to their steam cooker of a phony 'engagement.' Time to turn up the heat.
"I want to discuss Christina with you," William interjected.
Bill was immediately wary. "What about her?"
"I like the girl. She's got spunk and she's exactly what you need to wake you up." He snapped his fingers in front of Bill's face.
"I'm glad you approve. Was there anything else?" Bill was playing it cool.
"Just this; if you don't marry that girl, you're out." William smiled to himself.
William knew perfectly well they were going to officially 'break up" before the month was out. Why not put more pressure on his lying, deceitful son and make the game more fun until then?
"Was that all you wanted to say to me?" Bill glowered at his father.
William nodded. "That's all."
Bill walked out of the room.
William watched his son leave. The boy hadn't shown a flicker of fear. He'd remained cool, the way a real man would.
Interesting.
That girl was truly having an effect on his son, a positive effect. Bill had even been showing up at the office lately and had actually worked! He'd been involved in meetings and put in his suggestions. And William had been impressed with how smart some of those suggestions had been.
Interesting.
His son had also been having dinner with William lately. Although, they'd barely spoken two words to each other throughout the meals, they'd still sat down together—and that was something.
Also, interesting.
And the boy had been staying home at night and William had actually caught him reading a book in the mansion's library one evening. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his son pick up a book, let alone read one!
Doubly interesting.
Yes, William was convinced the girl had brought about this change in his son. But what would happen when, at the end of the month, the two would part ways? Well, true to his word, William was prepared to throw Bill out. That might make him more of a man.
But what if—they didn't break up?
What if the girl stayed?
What if his son were to actually marry Christina? What then?
Very interesting idea.
William needed to think about this some more.
Chapter 31
Christina was taking pictures of the GME protesters outside the Fido Foods office building. Teddy, the hippy 60's throwback that she'd met last time, came over.
"Hey, you're back," he happily greeted her.
"We needed more pictures for our magazine story. So, how are you guys doing? Making any headway with corporate America?" she asked.
"Yeah, man. We've been getting a lot more media coverage and as a result, Fido Foods sales are down and so are their share prices. We're winning the battle."
Christina was impressed. According to what she'd learnt from Robert, the reporter at Streetwise who was writing the story to accompany her pictures, GME was a well-organized, well-financed machine that seemed to know what they were doing. They may have looked like a bunch of misfits but they were anything but.
"I'm going to take a few more pictures. Thanks for your help, Teddy," Christina smiled at him.
"Anytime, man." Teddy smiled back before rejoining the protest line.
Christina began to snap more photos. So her Billy and his dad were losing money over this? Served them right, if they were polluting the environment for cash, as GME claimed. As Christina continued to take her pictures, someone else was taking pictures of her—from far away, with a zoom lens.
* * *
Tall, red-head Stephie, Bill's former girlfriend, was sitting with her model legs crossed on the couch in Drummond Sinclair's office and was jealously studying the photos of Christina Matteo that were in her hands.
"So tell me everything about her," she purred.
Drummond Sinclair studied Stephie's cold face. She was absolutely beautiful but dangerous if crossed—and Bill Havenwood had definitely crossed her. As a private investigator for over twenty-five years, he'd been involved in many love-gone-wrong cases like this. In fact, 'love-gone-wrong' was his middle name as were the words 'straight cash' but he'd never seen a more gorgeous, breathtaking woman that had been dumped than Stephanie Hartwell.
"We know there's more to this engagement than love. And she doesn't trust him, because she's been following him while we've been following her," Drummond explained.
"Really?" Stephie's eyes widened with interest.
Drummond nodded. "We're currently in the process of acquiring their pre-nup agreement and we'll know more then."
Stephie was surprised. "Bill's lawyer is willing to sell you that?"
"No… not quite. He used a different law firm and we've got an insider there who can get us a copy."
"Which means you'll need more money?"
Drummond smiled, "I told you when you started this, Miss Hartwell that it wasn't going to be cheap."
Stephie's eyes narrowed. "I don't care what it costs or what you have to do… just get me everything on Christina Matteo and get it to me now."
"We may have to… 'investigate'… inside her apartment," Drummond, cagily, informed her. "And we may have to… 'liberate'… any interesting things or information we may find there. Do you have any problems with that?"
Stephie took out her wallet and starting counting out hundred dollar bills. "None whatsoever, Mr. Sinclair," she replied.
As Drummond Sinclair greedily watched her count out the money, he thought to himself that there really was no fury like a woman scorned.
Chapter 32
Christina stared at her reflection in the mirror. Was that really her?
There she was, at the couture house, standing on a platform, in her wedding dress. The simple, white sheath had been beaded with seed pearls and the overhead lights picked up their luster, creating a twinkling effect. She looked magical.
And she couldn't take her eyes off of herself.
There was someone else who couldn't take his eyes off of her—Bill. He was watching her from the shadows, having arrived five minutes before. She looked incredible, he thought to himself; and gorgeous, and magnificent, and desirable… and she belonged to someone else.
He felt that familiar punch to the gut. This wedding was all make-believe. None of it was true—except his love for her. That was the only true, good, clean thing in this entire mess.
Bill approached her.
"You look beautiful," he said, as his eyes devoured her.
"I got a message from Genghis Khan to meet you here, then take you to Beacon's to register."
Christina gave a small laugh, "And his lordship must be obeyed."
Bill laughed himself, "Or else it's off with my head and other male body parts."
His eyes shifted from hers to their reflection together in the mirror. Christina's eyes followed his. Dressed in one of his designer suits and her in her wedding dress, they definitely made a very handsome couple.
Bill smirked, "Isn't it bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress before the wedding?"
"I don't think we have to worry about that."
"No, we don't." He gave her a polite smile. "I'll wait for you outside." He turned and left.
Christina watched him leave. The oddest thing—he'd been very quiet lately. What was he up to?
* * *
Mindy, the wedding planner met Christina and Bill at Beacon's where they registered for their bridal gifts. Christina felt so uncomfortable at having to perpetuate this monstrous lie of theirs in the real world that she picked out her choices in ten minutes flat. Whatever the Beacon's representative suggested, she agreed to. Bill had stood beside her—very sullen and again very quiet.
Outside the store, Christina was about to walk away, when Bill grabbed her hand. "Have lunch with me?" he asked.
Christina paused. She didn't want to but maybe he'd let something slip over pasta and drinks that she could use against him in her revenge plan. So far, she had nothing and their contract would expire in ten days time.
"Sure," she responded.
He took her to a very trendy outdoor café. They were given a bistro table near the sidewalk, enabling them to watch the passersby while under the shade of a large, yellow-striped awning.
While they were both studying their menus, Christina was secretly studying him. He was in a funny mood today but she'd sensed a change in him ever since their encounter in his bedroom.
