Katelin's POV
"Marcus, darling, you're looking as delicious as ever," Bastien Jordan purrs as he offers his hand. He's a tall Black man in a finely tailored grey and white striped shirt and grey pants.
There's a faint blush on Marcus's cheeks but he gives Bastien's hand a firm shake. "Thank you," he says. "You're looking very fine yourself." Resting his other hand on the small of my back, he adds, "I'd like you to meet Kate, the bride."
Bastien's dark eyes regard me critically and not without a little hint of surprise. "Mrs. Marin, a pleasure to meet you."
I shake his offered hand. "Ms. Berano," I correct him. "But please call me Kate." Lifting my chin in challenge, I smile. Bastien doesn't seem like the kind of man who had any use for meekness in either friends or clients.
"Of course." His eyes sparkle. "My apologies. It's very lovely to meet you, Kate."
"Kate, darling!"
A man in a cream-colored suit, with a peach-colored shirt open at the throat, and a large boutonnière of rose buds on his lapel, came bounding into the room. He heads straight to me, his pleasant round face beaming and his arms outstretched as though we were long-lost friends. I laugh as he hugs me and kisses me on both cheeks. "Hi!" I say, breathless.
"My husband and business partner, Jaxson," Bastien says dryly.
"Oh, you are adorable," Jaxson gushes, a hand on his chest. "I was so excited to know we would be creating your wedding day." He takes a deep, dramatic breath, pressing his palm on his chest. "Jaxson Liang. I'm Filipino, too."
"Oh." It was all I could say. I never knew what to say whenever someone told her they were Filipino. "Er, I grew up in Brooklyn."
"I'm a Virginia boy. Until I meet Bastien here." He grabs his husband's arm and squeezes it. "We're going to have so much fun!"
We spend the next few hours discussing ideas for the wedding venue (Raul's parish was happy to make room for them in their schedule), the reception (they knew a place that was suddenly free in September, owing to the groom having a minor but unfortunate plastic surgery accident that made them move their wedding date to next year), flowers, catering, the wedding trousseau. Jaxson does most of the talking, his arms gesturing excitedly. Bastien scribbles notes on a tablet.
Marcus observes us while relaxing on a couch. He doesn't say anything but listens intently, only occasionally getting up and pacing around the office to stretch his long legs. One hour in, I catch his eye. I raise my eyebrows inquiringly. You bored yet?
He shakes his head solemnly. There's a thoughtful look on his face. For a second, I wonder if he's paying attention to the proceedings to distract himself from something else occupying his thoughts.
I want to ask him about it. Later, perhaps. Because currently my mind is filled with wedding plans, with Jaxson's contagious enthusiasm making me feel giddy at the thought of my big day.
"Why don't you have dinner with us tonight?" I ask Marcus as we drive away from Bastien and Jaxson's office after wrapping up the meeting. I felt I had to thank them profusely for agreeing to meet us on a Sunday and on such short notice.
Marcus hesitates for a brief moment before shaking his head. "Sorry, I've already made plans," he says.
I have to bite back the question that pops into my head: With Gigi?
"Maybe some other time," he adds.
"You sure?" I don't bother to hide my disappointment. "It's the least I could do for everything you did for me today." Grabbing his hand, I squeeze it. "You saved my life, you know."
He looks down at our hands and then covers my hand with his other. "It's nothing."
"What about Sunday? You can have lunch with us next Sunday, right?" I grin. "You can bring a friend."
"A friend."
I shrug. "Or a date, whatever." I try to seem nonchalant but he isn't buying it.
He breathes in a sigh. "You know, for someone only thirty, you're too much of a meddling aunt."
"It's just an invitation to dinner." I yank my hand away from his in exaggerated annoyance. "You're being too secretive for someone who knows my deepest secret."
"I do?"
I lower my voice to a whisper. "The reason Raul and I got married. Do you know how much trouble we'll be in if the board of directors finds out?"
"Raul will be in trouble." He snorts. "You have no obligation to the board, or even the company anymore."
"It will still be embarrassing for me." I look away, staring out the window. "Men bounce back from scandals unscathed, while we women have to carry the taint with us for years." I feel a weird kind of melancholy all of a sudden. What am I doing, I ask myself for maybe the 200th time since the wedding.
The man you loved asked you to marry him. You said yes.
"I'm sorry, Kate. You know your secret is safe with me."
Marcus's voice jolts me out of my thoughts. "I know," I say, turning back and forcing myself to give him a reassuring smile. "That's why you were there at the wedding. And, well, you're Raul's best friend."
"Are you in love with him, Kate?"
The question sent my pulse racing. "What?" To my horror, my words come out high-pitched and I feel my face turn hot and red.
"It's a simple question, isn't it?" He cocks his head, regarding me with his steel-grey eyes. "Are you in love with Raul?"
"Of course not." I try to keep my tone even, even though my heart was beating hard against my chest. "He's my— he was my boss."
"Oh, I don't know. People who work that closely together catch feelings all the time."
I laugh bitterly, even though I hope he assumes I just think the idea of me being in love with Raul funny. "In romance novels, sure."
"I wouldn't know, I've never read one."
"I could lend you a few of mine."
"You're changing the subject."
I shrug. "What's to change? You asked me a question and I answered."
"Hmmm. You did."
"Are you in love with him?" I say softly.
He barks out a laugh. "Raul should be so lucky. But no."
I feel the tension in my body ease. Not because I was afraid Marcus would say that yes he was in love with my husband, but because he seems to have accepted my answer as truth. At least it looks like he does.
What made him even ask me that question?
***
Raul's POV
Will you be home for dinner?
Seeing my phone light up with Kate's text brings a smile to my face. I pick it up and text back.
Will seven pm be okay?
Perfect. Marcus found us a wedding planner today. I'll tell you all about it tonight.
Can't wait.
I'm still grinning at my screen when a knock sounds on my door and Olivia enters, carrying a slim file folder.
"These are the contracts you asked for, sir," she says.
"Thank you," I say. "You can leave them on the second desk." The glass desk in the corner was Kate's idea. I tend to clutter up every horizontal surface in the office so she had the second desk added. She'd clear up the items on that desk at the end of each work week. Anything I didn't want to be put away stays on my primary desk. "It's getting late." I pause, thinking. "You don't have a car, do you?"
"Uh, no, sir." She sets down the folder. "The company gives me a taxi subsidy so that's how I get to work."
I nod. "I'll speak to accounting about arranging a car plan for you. But for now, I'll ask my driver to take you home."
"Oh, that's so generous of you... Raul." She smiled. "But how are you getting home?"
"I have a few phone calls to make. I'll be done by the time Santino comes back."
She shrugged. "I can wait. Two stops are better than him having to come back here for you."
"That won't be necessary. Call him when you're ready. Good night, Olivia."
She hesitates for a beat but nods. "Good night, Raul."
Fifteen minutes later, my phone buzzes with a new message. I pick it up, expecting another text from Kate. But it's Nico.
We need to talk. Are you home?
At the office. But I'll be leaving in half an hour.
My thumb holds still over the keyboard before I could suggest he come over to the house. I'm sure he wants to talk about Yandra and that incident the week before. Not something I want Kate to know anything about. I didn't do anything wrong but it would just be in bad taste to talk about it in the home I shared with my wife.
My wife who's waiting for me to come home for dinner.
I sigh and add a few more words to the text.
I'm having dinner with Kate. How about we meet for lunch tomorrow?
Meet me at Finley's at 10.
I frown at Nico's message. Its tone is curt, even disrespectful. As though he thinks he has something on me and gets to call the shots. Shaking my head, I send him a reply.
I can meet you at Finley's tomorrow night. 10 pm.
Fine.
________________________________________
Happy holidays! 🎄🎄🎄
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