The Millionaire's Arranged Marriage

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The Millionaire's Arranged Marriage Page 8

by Tina Martin


  “Maybe he’ll change. He’s still young...still don’t know what he wants out of life. All I know is, I won’t let him hurt Gabrielle.”

  “You two have been getting along well, I take it.”

  Tyson took a sip of coffee. “Yeah. She’s a remarkable young woman. I’ve only spent a few days with her and I realize that. Dilvan is a fool to not have seen what he had in her.”

  “You’re right about that. Anyway, I don’t want to keep you too much longer.”

  “Wait, before you go, how are you on desserts at the restaurant?”

  “If I had to guess, I’ll say we’ll be good until Monday.”

  “Okay. I’ll be there Monday morning to make another fresh batch of pastries.”

  “Sounds good, Tyson. I’ll see you on Monday, then.”

  “Okay.”

  Tyson set his phone back on the table, then walked to the living room and stood at the bottom of the staircase, listening for noise upstairs. He heard the creaking of the floor and smiled. He was sure Gabrielle would be down any minute now.

  To pass the time, he took his laptop to the kitchen, sipped on coffee and placed food orders for his chain of restaurants. He hadn’t delegated this process to any of the restaurant managers because he liked to maintain a level of control as well as a hand in his business. Whenever a certain item of food was low, he’d get automatic notifications through use of the high-tech inventory system he purchased. Then, he’d make the weekly orders for each of the twenty-two restaurants.

  “Good morning,” Gabrielle said, startling him.

  He immediately turned around, saw her standing there in a pink blouse and white shorts. He’d been so engrossed in the ordering process, he hadn’t heard her come downstairs.

  “I didn’t scare you, did I?”

  He grinned. “No. I was so busy playing around on my laptop that you were able to sneak up on me.” He folded his laptop shut. “Anyway, come on in and have a seat. I made breakfast.”

  “Okay.” Gabrielle got comfortable on a barstool, then yawned.

  “Still tired?” Tyson inquired. Then he glanced at the clock. It was almost 11:00 a.m.

  “A lil’ bit.”

  “Not having trouble sleeping, are you?”

  “I think it’s just because I’m in a strange environment.”

  Tyson grinned. “What’s so strange about my house?”

  “You know what I mean,” Gabrielle responded with a smile on her face.

  “Hey, do you drink coffee?”

  “No...never tried coffee. My Father didn’t drink coffee and he never let us drink it either.”

  “So what is your morning beverage of choice? I have cranberry juice, apple juice, V8 and there’s always water.”

  “Water is fine.”

  She watched Tyson take a tall glass, walk over to the refrigerator and hold the glass under the ice dispenser. Then he filled it with water and walked towards her with the glass and a plate of food.

  “Here you go. Let me grab your fruit bowl.”

  He quickly walked back over to the counter, took a bowl of fruit and placed it in front of her. After gathering his food, he sat down next to her.

  “Oh, I thought you might’ve eaten by now,” Gabrielle told him.

  “Nah...I wanted to wait for you...I enjoy our stimulating conversation over meals.”

  That brought a smile to her face.

  “So what’s under the gravy?” she inquired.

  “Taste and see.”

  Gabrielle broke off a chunk of the pastry with her fork and after rolling it around in the gravy, she tasted it.

  Tyson watched her chew. His aphorism as a pastry chef was to use food to seduce the palate and he was a great seducer. His tasty pastries were featured in Food Network Magazine and Bon Appétit. Many celebrities visited his restaurants all around the country to try his famous recipes.

  “Wow...that’s heavenly,” she told him with a watering mouth. “Oh my goodness.” She held her hand in front of her mouth as she spoke.

  “That good, huh?”

  “Mmm,” she mumbled. “Yes. What is it?”

  “What did you taste?”

  “Um...eggs, bacon, some vegetables...”

  “Yep, and a few other meats and some cheese. I baked it in a pastry, then made this country gravy to top it off.”

  “Delicious,” she commented, right before taking another fork full to her mouth.

  He began eating as well. “So, I spoke to Padma this morning.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. She told me Dilvan was back.”

  Gabrielle frowned and dropped her fork in her plate. “Back? He wasn’t supposed to come back until Sunday.”

  “I know, but he came back early.”

  Tyson watched her instantly withdraw as if the thought of Dilvan being here again brought fear to her heart.

  “Why...why is he back so early?”

  “Well, apparently, he found out about the good deed you did for his Father.”

  Gabrielle covered her mouth. “Oh my gosh! I told Padma not to tell him.”

  “Why would you tell her not to tell him?”

  Gabrielle shook her head. “I can’t believe this.”

  “Gabrielle?” Tyson said, to get her attention before she lost it. “Talk to me.”

  She sighed. “I didn’t want Dilvan to know because I just knew that if he found out, he’d hate his Father as much as he hates me.”

  “I’m not following you, Bri.”

  Gabrielle blew a breath. “It took a part of me to save his Father’s life, so as much as Dilvan despises me, I thought that, if he found out I was the donor, he’d begin to hate his Father just as much.”

  “No...actually, it’s having the opposite effect. According to Beatrice, he’s been beating himself up over the way he’s been treating you after finding out what you did for his Father...my uncle.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “Well, that’s what Padma told me this morning.”

  Gabrielle sighed. “I can’t believe she told him.”

  “She didn’t...she didn’t tell me how Dilvan found out about it, but I’m certain she wasn’t the source.”

  Tyson took a sip of coffee. “Let me ask you...would you be willing to have a sit-down with him?”

  “No,” Gabrielle responded quickly, her hands trembling.

  Tyson saw her hand shaking and touched her arm. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

  “I don’t want to talk to him, Tyson.”

  “I’m not going to force you to, Bri. I just think it’s an integral part of your healing process. Just think about it, and shall you decide you want to, I’ll be right there. Just let me know when and where. Can you do that?”

  “Yes. I’ll do that.”

  “Perfect. Now, let’s finish breakfast...have to take you phone shopping today.”

  “Phone shopping?” she questioned, looking him in the eyes.

  “Yes. You need a cell phone, right?”

  “Yes,” she said, sheepishly.

  “Then I’m taking you phone shopping, dear,” he said, holding her gaze and biting into a juicy slice of mango.

  CHAPTER 16

  Gabrielle

  - - -

  I’m standing next to Tyson at a Verizon Wireless retail store, listening to him discuss phone options with the sales associate. In addition to buying a phone for me, he’s upgrading his phone. I quietly observe him as he looks over different phone plans and get an understanding of what unlimited calling really means. He’s a master of negotiating and I think to myself how well-rounded he is. He makes the Dilvans of the world look like spoiled little boys. Tyson’s a man, a true gentleman.

  Before today, I hadn’t paid much attention to his physicalities...didn’t even realize he was so much taller than me, but today, I see it clearly. He has on a well-fitted black shirt that shows off the ripples of his muscles, with a pair of plaid shorts in varying colors – black, white, green and roya
l blue. A pair of loafers completes his beachy outfit.

  His legs, I notice, are not shaven smoothly like Dilvan’s. There’s hair on them as well as his arms. Nice, I ponder as I think about how a man should have hair on his body. A woman’s body is supposed to be silky smooth, not a man’s. A man, a real one, needs a little scruff to give him that rugged edge of masculinity. Call me old-fashioned, but there’s nothing masculine about a man running to a salon to get his body waxed once a month. Nothing at all.

  I smile to myself thinking about this, about how little I know about men, but how much I know about them to know what I like and what I don’t like. Dilvan has taught me most of that. Keeping it simple, my ideal man would be a man who was the opposite of everything Dilvan was or stood for, and a perfect example of that man is standing right beside me.

  “Bri, do you want the white Samsung?”

  I’m in awe...

  I hear words come forth from his mouth, but I’m in a trance, staring at his lips while wondering why Padma didn’t set me up with a man like Tyson. He was one of those men that women dreamed about...the type of man who knew he could have any woman he wanted but didn’t go after women for selfish reasons. He wanted a woman because he found her interesting and intriguing. The attraction would come later.

  “Bri?” he says.

  I snap out of my trance. “Um...sorry...did you say something?”

  A beautiful smile grows on his face. “You good?” he asks me.

  “Yeah...I just didn’t hear you.”

  “You didn’t, ‘cause you were looking right at me.”

  Busted. He caught me gawking.

  “I know. My mind was somewhere else.”

  After sending a playful squint my way, he says, “Do you want the white Samsung?”

  “How much is it?”

  “Don’t worry about the cost. Do you want it?”

  “Yeah,” I answer with raised eyebrows. “It’s nice.”

  “Okay,” he tells me. Then he informs the associate that we’ll take two of them.

  * * *

  When we leave there, he drives me over to Padma’s house. I’m meeting with her today to discuss the garden. I need to know how often she needed me to work there and I’m sure she wanted to catch up on other things as well.

  When Tyson pulls up at her house, he looks at me, wearing a pair of black shades that are so dark, I can’t see his eyes. He says, “Dilvan doesn’t know you’re going to be here, correct?”

  “Correct. If he does happen to show up, I’m sure Padma won’t let him in anyway so I’m not too worried about that.”

  “Well, I’ve already programmed my number in your phone. If he does come over, call me.”

  “Okay.”

  He slides his glasses from his face and says, “I’m serious, Bri. If you feel threatened in any way, call me.”

  “Okay. I will.”

  “What time should I pick you up?”

  “I’m not sure. I can probably get Padma to drop me off, so you don’t have to take the half-hour drive back over here.”

  “I don’t mind it.”

  “I know, but if I can get her to drop me off, then it’ll give you time to do other things.”

  “Well, either way it goes, I’ll check in on you a little later.”

  I open the door to get out of his jeep and once Padma comes to the front door to let me in, he drives away.

  “Hello, dear,” Padma greets me.

  I’m always happy to see her. “Hi.”

  “I figured we can sit out on the deck. I have some tea and finger foods ready.”

  I follow her to the beautifully decorated deck that is built high enough off the ground to provide a magnificent view of the ocean waters. The day is perfect – not too hot like it’s been the last few days. There’s a nice breeze brewing. A storm is passing through later on tonight.

  “So, how’s Tyson been treating you?”

  The sound of his name sends a smile to my face. I try to brush it off before she sees how much I’m blushing and say, “He’s treating me very well. He’s one of the good ones.”

  “Yes he is...wish I can say that about my own son.” Padma giggles a bit then whips out the thick planner that she carries everywhere she goes. It’s just as important as her cell phone. She proceeds to tell me that she’s looked at several properties for the garden and they are all further inland, away from the ocean.

  “So what exactly will I be doing?” I ask her.

  “I’m going to have a group of middle school students helping with the project. There will be about eight of them. I basically need to you coordinate things for them to do. Like, for instance, you can schedule them to do weeding one day, watering, planting...whatever needs to be done to maintain the garden.”

  “Cool. That sounds awesome. I’ve always wanted to work with kids.”

  “Then here’s your chance. Oh, and since you’re no longer with my son, I’ve added you to the payroll.”

  “Really, Padma?”

  “Yes. You have to support yourself, dear. Now, I’m starting you off at eight hundred a week.”

  My eyes grow huge. Did she really say eight hundred? Per week? “How many days will I be working?”

  “Two, sometimes three.”

  “Jeez, Padma. That’s far too generous.”

  “Oh, nonsense. You always find ways to help me, even if it’s volunteering at the restaurant for a few hours. I appreciate everything you do.”

  “Well, thank you very much,” I say, then hear my phone beeping. I pull it out of my purse and see a text message from Tyson:

  Tyson: u good?

  I smile, then reply:

  Gabrielle: yes

  “Sorry,” I say, looking up at Padma. “Trying to get used to this phone.”

  “Oh, you have a phone now?”

  “Yes, and I need to give you my number.”

  She picks up a pen and scribbles my digits on the inside flap of her planner. “Go ahead and dig into these goodies,” she says, gesturing at the food on the table.

  I take a stuffed jalapeno pepper and bite a little piece of it. Then I try the string hoppers and cashews.

  “I don’t know if Tyson told you or not, but Dilvan came back early,” Padma says.

  “Yeah. He told me.”

  “Dilvan somehow found out about the bone marrow donation—”

  “But how did he find out?”

  “I don’t know. Apparently, he’d called his Father to see if it was true or not. Then he left Santa Monica and came here. From what I gather, he didn’t even do the shoot. He was so intent on confronting me.”

  “Confronting you?”

  She nods. “Dilvan has never been one to take responsibility for his actions. He wanted to blame me for the way he mistreated you. Apparently, had I told him about the transplant, he would’ve treated you with the respect you deserve...that’s what he was trying to tell me.”

  “That doesn’t make much sense. Why not just treat me with respect anyway?”

  “Exactly, dear. That’s what I need to get through his thick skull.”

  My cell phone beeps again. I pick it up from the table and see another text message from Tyson:

  Tyson: hey, for dinner, which would you prefer...Greek shrimp and couscous or pecan-crusted trout with succotash-stuffed Roma tomatoes?

  A frown comes to my forehead. What the heck is couscous? My frown quickly turns into a smile, though, when I glance at my watch. It’s just after one in the afternoon and he’s already thinking about dinner. With me. Or maybe he meant to send the text to someone else? Hmm...I wonder...

  Gabrielle: did you mean to send me that?

  I send him that response and wait.

  “Has Tyson cooked for you yet?” Padma asks.

  “Yes. He made a breakfast pastry this morning that had my mouth watering even after I finished it.”

  Padma chuckles.

  “And he made tiramisu?”

  Her mouth stretches open wide. Her e
yes are even wider. “He did! Ooh, I’m gonna get him.”

  I laugh at her. “Why?”

  “I’ve been trying to get that man to make me some tiramisu for the longest...he told me he only makes it for special occasions.”

  “Nah, I think he was experimenting with something and he just so happened to have some partially prepared.”

  My phone beeps again. I know it’s Tyson’s response, so I pick it up immediately to read his text:

  Tyson: of course, Bri.

  I smile again and can feel myself turning red in the face.

  “Who are you smiling at over there, young lady?” Padma says with an inquisitive look on her face.

  “It’s nothing. Tyson was just texting me to see what I wanted for dinner.”

  “Well you tell Mr. Tyson I got a bone to pick with him,” she quips.

  “I’ll tell him.”

  “I have to have some of his tiramisu, and I want some of that pecan-crusted trout he cooked for Prasad’s anniversary dinner. Prasad couldn’t stop talking about it.”

  And now I know what I want for dinner...

  Gabrielle: well, in that case, the second option sounds tasty.

  Tyson: perfect...at the market now...call me if you need a ride home.

  Gabrielle: k

  “So how are you planning on moving forward with Dilvan?” Padma asks.

  “I’m not sure. It’s just too much to think about right now.”

  “Are you certain that it’s over?”

  “I didn’t want it to be over. I just wanted him to not treat me the way he did. But after two miscarriages and being humiliated, I can’t...” I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

  Padma sighs. “I hate for you to do this, but maybe you need to sit down and talk to him. Either way you look at it, you’re going to have to do that...whether it’s for reconciliation or divorce.”

 

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