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His face is red. He's borderline sweating, and rage radiates from him. "Who did this? Heads are going to roll!"
Everyone in the restaurant avoids his accusing gaze. I chuckle inside. The gossip will fly, and Hugh won't recover from this embarrassment; his impeccable reputation will be tarnished. And all those "friends" of his who've secretly wanted to see him fall will finally have their wish.
I let Hugh have a tantrum for a few more minutes, attempting to calm him, then maneuver him out of the club. We get to the valet, and Hugh seethes, "This is getting out of control, Riggs. Whoever this bastard is will pay!"
"It's going to be bad for business if this keeps up. We need to find out who the culprit is," I agree.
His eyes turn to flames. "Bad for business? My whole personal life is falling into the shitter."
"It'll all be okay. We'll find this guy, but maybe you should lie low for a while?" I suggest.
His car pulls up. He scowls, shakes his head, and storms over to his Mercedes, not tipping the driver.
I toss the guy a hundred, stating, "He's having a bad day."
"Thank you, Mr. Madden."
I nod, and my car pulls to the curb. I tip my valet a hundred, then get into my Porsche, feeling like I'm on top of the world.
I stop at the jewelers and text him.
Me: I'm outside.
His employee comes outside and hands me two boxes.
I drive through town, pull up to the boutique, and text Isabella.
Me: I'm here.
Isabella: Coming right out.
She appears with two men. One carries dress bags and boxes. Another rolls two suitcases.
I roll my window down as Isabella approaches, asking, "Is everything ready to go?"
"Of course," she chirps. "Now, tell me about the lucky woman."
"You'll know soon enough. Thanks," I reply, then roll up my window, not wanting to discuss anything else.
My trunk slams shut, and I take off, driving toward Malibu.
When I get home, Blakely's on the piano playing, singing a new song, but there are only a few words. She looks up and stops. "Hey, what are you doing home so early?"
"Is that a complaint?" I tease.
She grins. "No, it's never a complaint."
More warmth fills me, confirming this is the right thing. I don't remember ever being so damn happy in my life.
She walks over to me, and I give her a kiss. Then I guide her toward the door.
"Are we going somewhere?" she questions.
"Yep. It's a surprise."
"Oh?" Excitement flares in her blues. "Do I get a hint so I can try to guess?"
I chuckle. "It's not a surprise if I tell you, pet." I lead her to the car, and we get in. I drive to the private airport.
