Dillon’s cell phone began to vibrate and do a happy dance on the bedside table. Mikaela didn’t want to answer in case it was Joe or Mary. Yikes. Let me roll over and hand the phone to Dillon, Mrs. C. That wouldn’t do. She tried to turn over and shake his shoulder. “Dilly, your phone is ringing. You’d better get it.”
He groaned. “Wicked woman. You wore me out last night. I need my beauty sleep.”
“Get your beauty sleep after you answer the phone. It might be your parents.”
* * * *
Dillon rolled over and reached for the phone. “Okay. Okay.” His face tightened a bit when he focused on the screen. “Hey, Morgan. What’s up? It’s a little early to call to chat.”
“I know, man, and I’m sorry to wake you guys up, but you need to know about this ASAP. We had you and Mikaela plugged into our global Internet search program, and some unpleasant stuff came up overnight.” He paused. Obviously he didn’t know how to tell him whatever was on his mind, and that was not a good sign.
“Just spit it out, Morgan. It already sounds like it can’t be good news.”
“It’s not. Apparently Maggie Sexton has identified the faceless person in the YouTube sex tape as Mikaela Sexton, girlfriend of the current favorite to be elected to the open congressional seat from Connecticut’s Fourth Congressional District. Unfortunately, the story has been picked up by a number of Internet news sites, as well as the New York Post, Greenwich Time, Greenwich Post, New Haven Advocate and New Haven Register, and all the tabloids. She’s also posted on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook. Stills from the video are currently up on all the sites.”
“Son of a bitch. We were worried about what she would do next, but that really hadn’t occurred to either of us. What the fuck are we going to do now? I can see the newspapers sitting rolled up next to my father’s breakfast plate as we speak.”
“I would suggest you and Mikaela have a sit-down with Jamie, Miguel, and Jack and discuss your options. Between you I think you’ll come up with a countermove. If I can help in any way, let me know. I hate to suggest this, but you might want to strike back quickly with a press release of your own. That’s what I would do if it were me.”
“Thanks, Morgan. We’ll get right on it.” He disconnected the call and put the phone down on the table.
“Baby? What did Morgan Court have to say? You look green.”
Dillon relayed the entirety of Morgan’s disclosures, and watched as her face fell. She looked as sick as he felt.
“That bitch. How could she do this to me, to us? All for greed and jealousy.”
“Call down for room service, Mikki. I’ll get with the guys to set up a meeting.”
“Dillon, I don’t think I can eat right now.”
“Just have some coffee then.” Dillon dialed the master suite and Jamie Devereau first. Jamie and Jack were sharks, and Miguel had the sharpest legal mind he knew. Between them, they should be able to come up with something. They set up a meeting for ten o’clock in the business center on the fourth deck.
Dillon took Mikaela into his arms and nestled her up against his chest. He needed the comfort as much as she did. “Baby, it will be okay. No matter what happens, we will be okay. That’s why we have each other.”
She started to sob, and he just held her tighter. By the time the steward delivered their breakfast and coffee, she had started to calm down. “That bitch is going to be sorry she messed with me. I’m the one in sole control of the Sexton Foundation, and she’ll never see a penny now. After all my parents did for her…”
* * * *
The business center on board the Golden Dolphin, at sea in the Gulf of Mexico, Saturday morning, January 2, 2016
Dillon and Mikaela met with Jamie, Jack, Miguel, and J.J. in the fourth deck business center cabin. Gregory Dempsey, security officer of the Golden Dolphin, had also been asked to sit in. The space was considerably smaller than the suites but contained all the necessary business equipment and supplies that a passenger might need to conduct business while at sea. It also sported a comfortable work area, sitting area, and bathroom facilities. Jamie had called for a coffee tray and pastries in case anyone had not yet had breakfast. Dillon had to smile. That guy thought of everything. He hoped that phenomenon would continue and they could address this problem before it got even worse.
“I took a couple of minutes to pull up the Internet sites for some of the papers Morgan mentioned, and he was correct. The shot of Mikaela riding that guy with a clear view of her tattoo was posted every-fucking-where on the Internet.” Dillon was trying to hold it together for Mikki’s sake, but he was close to the edge.
Jamie spoke up. “I checked it out as well. Stories are on all the legit newspaper sites. The trash Internet gossip and celebrity news sites have posted the picture as well. I’m amazed that none of them bothered to confirm the story before posting. I guess it was just too juicy to wait.”
“Yeah. Juicy. That’s my fiancée’s ass out there on the Internet. Sorry, Mikki. I’m just so pissed right now I could spit nails.”
“I know, baby. It’s actually my ass that’s out there.” Mikaela looked more than a little shell shocked.
“Morgan suggested to me that we might want to put out a press release immediately as a countermeasure. What do you guys think?”
Jack said, “If it was me, that’s what I would do. You’ve said you don’t care about the election. Why not go on record saying that?”
“A skillfully worded video press release with you and Mikaela showing a unified front might be very beneficial as damage control.” Jamie looked thoughtful. “Greg, do we have the equipment aboard to make a rebuttal video and post it?”
“Absolutely, boss. Natasha and I can get right on that if that’s what you all decide to do.”
Dillon thought for a moment and then turned to Mikaela. “What do you think, baby. Are you up for your second film debut?”
“Yes. Absolutely. I can’t let Maggie get away with this. It’s bad enough she humiliated me with the YouTube video, but now she’s hurt you and your campaign. We can’t let this slide.”
Greg said, “Why don’t you both go up to your suite, shower, rest, and change while Natasha and I set up to film the rebuttal. I’ll contact Morgan Court’s security people for help in posting to all the sites they picked up on, and we’ll hit them first. After that I’m sure our video will take on a life of its own. Court’s security people can get our video out more efficiently than we can from the ship.”
Miguel Gatto, the Broward County State’s Attorney and fiancé of one of the bridesmaids, Gabriella Dellaveccia, took Dillon aside. “How would you and Mikaela feel about prosecuting this woman? I know she is a relative.”
“Miguel, we don’t have admissible evidence. The bugs planted by Morgan Court’s people are illegal surveillance. We were more concerned with gathering intel than evidence that could be introduced in court.”
“I have contacts up there. Do you want me to call in a favor from the Brooklyn DA? They can mount an investigation that would produce admissible evidence.”
“Let me talk to Mikaela. That would be her decision. It’s her cousin after all.”
* * * *
Once Dillon and Mikaela were back in their suite, he said, “I think I should let my dad know there’s a problem before he reads it in the paper or sees it on the computer.”
Mikaela looked troubled. “He’s not going to like it.”
“No. He never does.” He picked up his phone and dialed Connecticut. The phone range twice and Joe Cavanaugh picked up. “Hey, Dad. Did you see the papers this morning?”
“Yes, I did. What the hell is going on, Dillon?” The confrontational tone of voice grated on his nerves. His father was the one person guaranteed to always get to him.
“Dad, I’m thinking about dropping out of the race. It’s too much strain on Mikki. We got engaged last night, by the way.”
“Are you crazy?” Of course he had glossed right over the engagement news. Th
at was par for the course. “This woman is diverting your concentration from the campaign. This is not how to win an election. Would you abandon your future for a woman?”
“Not just a woman, Dad—my woman. This election is your dream, not mine.”
Dillon heard his mother in the background. “Joe, would you have given me up for a political career?”
“Of course not, Mary. That’s different. I love you.”
“And Dillon loves Mikaela. It’s no different.”
Joe blustered, “This is insanity. Break up with Mikaela and distance yourself from this unsavory situation. It’s not too late to save your campaign.”
“Not an option. As usual, Dad, when you’re wrong, you’re wrong at the top of your voice. I’ll talk to you and Mom later. I hope you will have calmed down by then. In any case, Mikki and I are getting married and living our lives. You can be a part of it or not, as can my possible constituents in the great state of Connecticut.”
* * * *
An hour later Dillon and Mikaela were seated in the luxurious lounge on the top deck while they waited for Greg and Natasha to set up a small, intimate area to make the response video. They had decided to go with a casual, absolutely unworried “at sea” look. Dillon wore a starched, white button-down collared shirt and pressed jeans with Topsiders while Mikaela wore white capris and a blue-and-white-striped knit shirt and had her hair pulled up into a bouncy ponytail. They looked like a true-blue, all-American couple.
“Mikki, Miguel Gatto wants to know if you want to prosecute Maggie. He can help with his contacts in the Brooklyn DA’s office if you want to go ahead.”
She looked thoughtful and then sighed. “Why not? It’s all out there in the public domain now. Ask him to go ahead. If this just affected me, I’d say let it go, but she hurt you, Dilly. One thing—I don’t want to involve Court’s people in anything that could come back to bite them. They did us a huge favor when we had no idea where to turn.”
“Understood. We’ll just say that you had a suspicion it was your cousin. We have the texts back and forth between you where she admits involvement and threatens you.”
When Greg gave the signal and the red light beamed on the video camera, Dillon said, “I’m making this announcement to the citizens of my congressional district. It has been an honor to run for the vacant seat from Connecticut’s Fourth Congressional District, and particularly my home town of Greenwich. Recent events have made continuing uncomfortable for both myself and my fiancée, Mikaela Sexton.
“I’m sure most of you have already seen the scurrilous pictures that have been posted online and in the papers this morning. Let me be clear. We are not attempting to deny that Mikaela is the subject of the pictures. They were taken when she was nineteen, and her cousin and a friend drugged her with a date-rape drug, forced her into a compromised position, and took the video while she was unaware. Recently, this relative, and I use the term loosely, has attempted to blackmail Mikaela demanding five million dollars to not post the portion of the video showing her face. We determined not to pay her, and what you see in the news and on the Internet today is the result.
“I’m not going to withdraw from the race. If you want to vote for me—great. If not—fine. Either way, I have no intention of abandoning the woman I love. Withdrawing from the race would be caving in to the pressure of this unscrupulous person. Nonetheless, I am withdrawing from active campaigning at this time.
“The citizens of Fairfield and New Haven Counties can elect me or not as they see fit. If they do elect me, I will represent them in Congress to the best of my ability. If not, good luck and God speed. Mikki and I are getting married and living our lives. Friends, family, and constituents can be a part of that or not as they choose. This whole experience has been hurtful and mean spirited, but they say the best revenge is living well, and that is what we intend to do.” Dillon picked up Mikaela’s hand and kissed it as the video camera shut down.
“I’m so proud of you, Dillon. That was amazing.” Mikaela had tears in her eyes.
“That was excellent, Dillon. We’ll get it to Morgan Court’s people immediately. They are waiting to download it to all of the pertinent sites, YouTube, and to the newspapers as well.” Greg and Natasha began packing up the video equipment.
“Thanks, Greg. We appreciate everyone’s support and help.” He turned to Mikaela. “What do you think about getting married in Cozumel? I’m sure there is a cathedral there. The purser, Casey Campbell, can help us make arrangements. What do you say? I know you wanted a big church wedding, baby, but at least we can have the church part.”
“Honey, that would give us two days to arrange a wedding. I don’t think it can be done.”
“Anything can be done if you want it badly enough. The girls and the crew will help you get it together. What do you say? It sounds like an adventure. Then we can post pictures of our happy nuptials all over the Internet and screw them all.”
“I’m not promising to go along with this insane idea, but I will talk to Casey Campbell and the girls.”
* * * *
After the video response had been completed, Mikaela met the girls by the pool. “What do you guys think about Dillon and me getting married at the cathedral in Cozumel? It would be a terrible rush. I don’t know if it can be done.”
Anne Sutton smiled. “I have a little experience with rushed nuptials. We can all work on it, make it a project. I wish Anamaria and Max were here. But never fear, I’ve learned a lot from our resident wedding architect. Once we get to Cozumel, we can shop for a dress and other necessities. Casey Campbell can contact the church and arrange a time. The crew can handle the reception. We’ve had several weddings aboard, starting with mine. They are pros at setting them up.”
“Would you guys all be my bridesmaids? As you know, I lost my parents last year, and I don’t have any family.”
They chorused, “We’d love to!”
* * * *
Miguel Gatto and Gabriella Dellaveccia were stretched out on one of the double chaise lounges on the private deck of their suite. He had a glass of iced tea in one hand and his cell phone in the other while he scrolled his contacts at the Brooklyn DA’s office. When he zeroed in on the one he wanted, he pushed call. He had reached the private cell phone of Mario Ferrante, the Brooklyn DA.
“Mario, how the heck are you? Miguel Gatto here. I need a favor.” Might as well cut to the chase.
“What can I do for you, Miguel? I owe you one or two.” Miguel had aided in the prosecution of some gang members who had migrated north to Brooklyn.
“I presume you’ve seen the brouhaha on the Internet this morning about Mikaela Sexton and Dillon Cavanaugh.” When Mario answered in the affirmative, Miguel continued. “They are friends of mine. Let me fill you in on the details.” When he had finished, he said, “They want to prosecute since all the damaging information and photos are already out there. Do you think you can mount an investigation of this Maggie Sexton? The evidence we currently have is not admissible.”
“I won’t ask why it’s not admissible but will take your word for that. Yeah. I can look into it. Five million, huh? The girl has balls.”
“Balls on a viscous bitch can be dangerous. Keep me in the loop if you can. These are really good people. Gabriella tells me they are getting married at the cathedral in Cozumel on Tuesday or Wednesday.”
“I’ll keep you posted.” They ended the call.
“That was nice of you, Miguel.” Gabby reached up and kissed his cheek. “You are a good man.”
He pulled her into his arms for a deep kiss. He never got enough of her. “I don’t know what I’d do if someone did that to you, baby. We had our own scary moments, and I hate to see someone else going through it. Anyway, it’s a small thing. I hope Mario can get some justice for them.” He rolled her under him, pushed up the hem of her shirt, and took one peaked nipple into his mouth.
Chapter Twelve
Aboard the Golden Dolphin, at the wharf in Cozumel Harbor, I
sla Cozumel, in the Caribbean Sea, State of Quintana Roo, Mexico, Sunday morning, January 3, 2016
After a quick breakfast, Mikaela, Anne, Kaylin, Gabriella, Chloe, and Nicollette exited the ship onto the Punta Langosta pier at the foot of downtown San Miguel on the west side of the island of Cozumel. Since Cozumel existed on tourism, all of the shops including those in the mall were open. The girls split into two teams with their lists of items to be bought. Mikaela, Anne, and Kaylin headed to the designer shops to look for the wedding dress and accessories. The first two shops yielded nothing that appealed to Mikaela.
“I wish I had known this was coming. I could have brought my mother’s wedding veil from home.”
“Can you have someone ship it overnight?”
“No. It’s in storage, and I don’t know who I could have root it out. I would have loved to wear her dress as well, but unfortunately it would require a lot of alterations and some remaking. My mother was much shorter and smaller than I am.”
“Do not despair. We will find the perfect thing.” Kaylin was a bouncy Irish optimist fresh from her dream honeymoon with her dream Dom. She was not disposed to be discouraged about anything.
Mikaela was curious about something she had seen on deck the day before. “Did I see you and Barbara Brown having a drink together on deck yesterday? It looked like you worked out your differences.”
Kaylin laughed. “We did. She said she’d beat my ass if I made Jack unhappy. I told her he’d take care of that himself if I did. She thought that was hysterical. She says he a pussy cat Dom, but she’ll talk to him about it. I told her to mind her own business. She got this shocked look on her face, and then she started to laugh, and it was okay.”
“I’m glad. You don’t need a problem like that while you are starting out your marriage.”
Michaels, Skye - Mikaela's Debut [The Black Dahlia Hotel 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) Page 11
