Alpha Billionaire’s Bride, Part Two (BWWM Romance Serial) (4 page)

“Oh my God,” Marina moaned. “I can’t believe she called me
out on national television for eating glue. I never did like that woman.”

Jada stifled a laugh. Movement by her open bedroom door
caught her attention. Sasha sauntered into the room, her arms filled with tabby
cat and several large baggies.

“I brought Cat back for you,” Sasha said, strolling over to
the bed, and peering at the TV. “Whatcha watching?”

“It’s a show about Miss Jada and Mr. Ian,” Elly said, never
taking her eyes from the program.

“Huh.” Sasha dropped Ms. Kitty onto the bed, then crawled
past Elly, over Jada’s legs, propped up a few pillows against the headboard,
and settled in beside Jada. “How fun. I’d love to learn all about Mr. and Mrs.
Buckley.”

Ms. Kitty wedged herself between Jada and Sasha, curled
herself in a ball and promptly closed her eyes for a nap.

“Who is that?” Marina asked in the phone.

“It’s Sasha.”

Marina squealed loud enough that Sasha heard it.

“Who’s that?” Sasha asked.

“My sister, Marina.”

“Why is she screaming? Is someone attacking her? Tell her to
go for the eyes. It’s more effective than going for the groin, trust me.”

Jada struggled to hear Piper Sandy on the television, but
between Marina and Sasha, she was having no luck. “For crying out loud,” Jada
said. “I’m putting you on speaker, Marina. Introduce yourself to Sasha.”

“Hi Sasha! I’m Marina.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Buckley’s sister.”

“So you really don’t care that Jada married your fiancée?”

“Of course not. Only Agatha could care about that.”

“Shh!” Jada hissed.

A good-looking woman was on the screen. She was around
Jada’s age, and Jada instantly knew who she was without reading the caption.

Marina gasped. “It’s Lindy Swinson.”

“Who’s Lindy Swinson?” Sasha asked, opening up one of the
baggies and scooping out a handful of what appeared to be an orange colored
chip. A cheese curl/puff? Surely not, Jada thought.

“She’s a mean girl from high school,” Jada said.

“Jada and I were like this,” Lindy gushed all over the
screen, holding up a pair of manicured, crossed fingers. “You never found one
of us without the other. We were true BFFs. I think we had one of those
necklaces, you know, where the charm is cut in half and you each have your own
half. She always looked up to me because I was so popular. Such a dear, even
though she had jealousy issues. I’m so happy she finally found a husband. She
called me right away, of course, to give me the good news and—”

“I’m going to throw up,” Marina said. “She’s a lying bi—”

“We weren’t friends,” Jada interrupted, addressing herself
to Sasha and Elly. “She and her girls pretended like I didn’t exist except when
they wanted to torture me.”

Sasha chomped on her cheese puffs. “I know her kind. She’s
hot, but I wouldn’t do her. Want some?” She looked at Jada and Elly and
gestured in offering at her two baggies. Jada and Elly declined with shakes of
their heads.

“Want what?” Marina asked.

“Crunchy cheese puffs,” Sasha said. “Homemade. Mrs. Best
makes them for me. They’re heaven. I’ve also got some of her trail mix here.
I’d offer you some, but obviously, you’re not actually here, so ...”

“That’s okay,” Marina said. “I appreciate the thought.”

“Ooh, that man’s kind of scary looking,” Elly said in
reaction to a new face on the screen.

“Who is that?” Marina asked.

“I have no idea,” Jada answered. “It says his name is Jerome
Winton.”

“Jada Howarth has been my neighbor for a while now,” the
grouchy-looking man said. “I appreciate that she keeps her lawn tidy and her
grass mowed. Too bad all her new pampas grass got mashed clean flat yesterday.
I hope she gets it out of there soon. It’s unsightly and brings down the
neighborhood.”

“There you have it,” Piper droned cheerily. “Jada Howarth’s
unkempt lawn lowers property values in Springers Glen. We’ll return with more
in a moment.” The show cut to a commercial.

SASHA CHORTLED IN GLEE. ELLY covered her mouth with her
hand and Marina’s snort snapped through the phone’s speakers.

Jada sighed. “Couldn’t they interview someone who actually
knows me? I think CGTV must be the most incompetent network ever.”

“Maybe so, but they make money, young lady. And money makes
the world go round,” came a loud, nasal voice from the doorway. Agatha Brimgore
clomped into the room. “So this is where you all are. What are you doing?”

Like her daughter, she didn’t wait for an invitation, merely
headed around to the other side of the bed and scrabbled up beside Sasha.

“We’re watching this fabulous documentary about Jada,” Sasha
said. “Cheese puffs? Trail mix?”

“Both,” Agatha replied, reaching a hand into one of the
baggies.

“Who’s that?” Marina asked.

“Who are you?” Agatha asked by way of reply, pointing at the
phone beside Ms. Kitty.

“It’s Agatha, my publicist,” Sasha answered.

“Oh, nice to meet you,” Marina said. “I’m Jada’s sister,
Marina.”

“I didn’t know you had a sibling, Jada,” Agatha said,
craning her long, skinny neck out to see past Sasha.

“Didn’t you?” Jada answered, fishing to see what else she
might say.

“How could I? I never heard of you until yesterday when you
stole Ian from poor Sasha.”

Sasha acted like she hadn’t heard her. Ms. Kitty raised her
head and glared at Agatha, ears slightly flattened and tail flicking at the
tip.

“Oh,” Jada said, “I thought maybe you knew me before,
somehow. You’ve made several pronouncements about my character, for instance,
which is surprising coming from someone who just met me.”

Agatha shrugged one bony shoulder. “There you go again. It’s
all about you, isn’t it? That’s the problem with instant celebrity. It goes to
your head and you start thinking the whole world revolves around you. My dear,
you’ll have to work hard to keep your ego in check now that you’re famous.”

“Outrageous,” Marina said.

“I know,” Agatha agreed with a smug look. “But it’s common,
so everyone should keep that in mind as Mrs. Buckley adjusts to her new status.
I don’t have time to take on a new client, but I can recommend someone for you,
dear. They could tutor you in how to manage your narcissism, or at least, keep
it a secret from the public, which is the most important thing.”

Marina grunted in disgust. Sasha sighed before cramming a
handful of trail mix in her mouth. Elly looked confused. And Ms. Kitty stood
up, tail high and stiff, fur slightly ridged along her back. She jumped off the
bed and stalked out of the room with the aplomb of an offended queen.

“Ignore Agatha,” Sasha said to Jada, a few crumbs stuck on
her ample lips. “She’s a professional projector.”

Marina laughed. Elly still looked confused and Agatha’s
smugness didn’t waver. Jada was saved from responding by the end of the
commercial break.

“Prior to Jada Howarth-Buckley’s fairy tale marriage,” Piper
crooned, “she had a low level job at a small accounting firm in Springers Glen.
What a change it must be for Jada, going from a dismal little office building
where she toiled away every day, crunching boring numbers in her tiny cubicle
to the dazzling and thrilling world of billionaire and international playboy
Ian Buckley.”

The screen showed a company publicity picture taken during a
clean-up-the-river day. Mostly, it showed Jada from behind, wearing a raggedy flannel
shirt and rubber waders, bent over and trying to shove a wad of slimy muck into
a trash bag. Next, the picture changed to the tidy, brick exterior of Jada’s
accounting firm before flashing onto the “dazzling and thrilling” theme which
included shots of brightly-lit casinos stretching along the Riviera at night, a
fancy yacht, and finally, the front of the Hearst castle in San Simeon.

“Quite a change, quite a change,” Piper repeated.

“Puh-leeze,” Marina said.

“Agreed,” Agatha said. “Ian’s yacht is much bigger than that
one.”

“I don’t think Ian has a yacht.” Sasha leaned forward,
brushing her crumb-covered fingers off on her stretchy yoga pants.

Both Jada and Elly watched with furrowed brows as Sasha’s
orange crumbs cascaded onto the pristine white bedspread.

“Oh no. It’s your boss,” Marina said.

Jada looked up. Sure enough, there, big as life, was one of
the partners where Jada worked, Mr. Saturn Talleyrand. He was a dignified older
man, with plenty of age spots on his brown skin and a ring of white, curly hair
that didn’t come close to covering the dome of his large head.

“Yes, Jada Howarth works for us here at Talleyrand, Dilling,
Stifferton and Associates,” Mr. Talleyrand said in his most formal voice.
“She’s a valued member of our team. I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say more
since we respect our employees’ right to privacy at Talleyrand, Dilling,
Stifferton and Associates.”

“When did Mrs. Buckley quit her job?” Piper asked, the
camera shifting between her overly-bright blonde self and the upright accountant.

“To the best of my knowledge, Jada Howarth is still an
employee of Talleyrand, Dilling, Stifferton and Associates,” he replied.

Piper looked straight into the camera with raised eyebrows.
“So, the new Mrs. Buckley doesn’t give proper notice before leaving jobs.
Interesting.”

“As I said, she’s still an employee of—”

“You don’t think the wife of a billionaire is going to work
at a tiny accounting firm in your quaint little town, do you?” Piper overflowed
with superiority.

“I couldn’t say.” Mr. Talleyrand lifted his chin in equal
disdain for Piper. “Talleyrand, Dilling, Stifferton and Associates is a
well-respected firm with clients around the world and a reputation for superior
results.”

“Of course it is,” Piper said, syrupy condescension dripping
from her overly-bleached fangs. “Is there anything else you could tell us about
Mrs. Buckley?”

“Nothing other than we send congratulations to her and her
husband on their nuptials and best wishes for their future. We at Talleyrand,
Dilling, Stifferton and Associates stand ready to assist her and her husband in
any way in the future. You can trust us to treat your money as if it were our
own. That’s our motto here at Talleyrand, Dilling—”

“Yes, yes, thank you so much, sir,” Piper said.

Marina broke into the broadcast with a loud laugh. “Ha! She
didn’t let him get in another plug. Ha-ha.”

“He did pretty good, though,” Sasha said. “He must have
gotten the name in a dozen times.”

“Only five and a half times,” Agatha said with a sniff. “He
might as well not have bothered. You must repeat something at least seven times
for it to stick in an average person’s brain. And with that firm’s terrible,
long name, I think he actually would have had to say it a dozen times or more.
Mr. Talleyrand should hire a publicist and have a discussion about branding.
I’ll give him a ring. You have his number, don’t you Jada?”

Jada lowered the volume on the television. “I thought you
didn’t have time for new clients.”

She giggled, a misplaced sound coming from a woman of her
forty-something years. “You caught me. I admit, I have ulterior motives. I find
your former boss extremely attractive.”

“Mother!” Sasha made a gack sound. “Haven’t you buried
enough husbands? Five should be plenty for any woman. Give that poor Talleyrand
guy a break and let him live.”

Agatha raised a drawn-on eyebrow, patted her beehive hairdo
and leaned forward to stare down Jada and Elly, both of whom wore horrified
expressions. “She’s kidding. Only three of my husbands died. Natural causes. I
divorced the other two.”

“Whew!” Marina said, her voice tinny through the phone’s
speakers. “I’m sure we all feel better now. Don’t you feel better, Jada?”

Jada mumbled that she guessed so while scrutinizing Agatha
with suspicion.

A deep, masculine voice coming from the doorway interrupted
Jada’s inspection. “So this is where everyone is this morning. Are these two
bothering you, Jada?”

It was Ian. He stood in the doorway surveying the scene with
a less-than-pleased look on his handsome face. He was dressed casually in a
pair of light trousers and a loose cotton shirt that was unbuttoned low enough
to reveal an enticing triangle of tanned and toned man-chest.

Jada’s stomach tumbled over on itself. He was here. He
hadn’t returned to the city after all.

She warned herself to be cool, not to make too much of his
continued presence at the estate. She couldn’t help herself, though, and hoped
against hope for a positive answer to a critically important question.

Had he stayed because of her?

IAN EYED THE SCENE, THE four women snugged in next to one
another on Jada’s bed. Mostly, he wanted to look at Jada.

“Who’s that?” a female voice asked through the speakers of a
phone on the bed.

“It’s the head man himself,” Sasha answered. “Mr. Big. Mr.
Ian Buckley, billionaire extraordinaire. AKA your new brother-in-law.”

“Oh!” the phone said.

Ian ignored Sasha’s absurd introduction and walked over to
Elly’s side of the bed so he could see the television screen. Elly hopped up
and offered her seat to him, but he waved her back down.

“What are you watching?” he asked. “And who’s on the phone?”

“Right, introductions, sorry,” Jada said in a rush. “Marina,
this is Ian Buckley, my fake husband. Ian, this is Marina on the speaker phone,
my real sister.”

“Nice to meet you,” Marina said in a formal, polite tone.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Ian said. “I suppose my marriage
makes you my sister-in-law.”

“That’s right. Welcome to the family, such as it is.”

“Well aren’t you all one big happy gathering?” Agatha
flopped back against the headboard, crossed her twig-like arms and pointed a
long, skeletal finger at the TV. “At least CGTV knows what the real story is
here.”

Everyone looked back toward the television. Jada turned the
volume up.

An overly made-up blonde woman primped on the screen. She
had a fake pouty expression and batted her lashes so much he wondered if she
had a bug in her eye. A small picture of Sasha walking a runway was plastered
in an upper corner of the screen.

“I’m Piper Sandy, and welcome back to our special program,”
the woman said. “While we all wish the Buckleys much marital bliss, we can’t
forget that there’s a casualty in this story of secret, runaway love—poor,
beautiful, spurned supermodel Sasha. She must be devastated, inconsolable to be
tossed aside so callously. Oh! All of our hearts here at CGTV go out to her.”

“Aww,” Sasha said. “That’s so sweet.”

“Sure,” Jada said, “if anyone at CGTV actually had a heart
to give.”

“What the hell is this?” Ian asked.

Elly looked like she was ready to sprint for the door. Sasha
picked at her teeth. Agatha thumbed furiously on her cell phone.

“It’s a show, about our marriage, and now it’s about Sasha,
too, apparently,” Jada said.

Ian could tell Jada was trying to make light of the
situation, but he saw the tension in tiny lines at the corners of her mouth.

The woman on the television gassed on about how wrecked
Sasha must be. Ian’s gaze flickered between the TV and Jada.

“I told you, Agatha,” Sasha said, a finger still in her
mouth. “This whole deal is going to help my image, not hurt it. Look, they’re
interviewing people on the street.”

“I think Piper must not like you, Jada,” Marina said.

Jada went “Mmph.”

“Piper doesn’t give two hoots about our Mrs. Buckley one way
or the other,” Agatha said. “She knows you have to tell the people a thrilling story,
and that means you’ve got to have a good guy and a bad guy. That’s just how it
is. Nothing personal.”

From the look on Jada’s face, Ian knew she was taking it
personally nonetheless.

The television showed a girl who couldn’t have been more
than twelve standing on a busy sidewalk. She spoke rapidly into a microphone.
“I cried when I heard that Sasha tried to kill herself because her boyfriend
cheated on her. It was like on that show, you know, ‘Gogo Girlz Town,’ where
Cherabina was going to take all those pills because her man went out with that
slutty girl, and it was all wrong because it was. And I cried too, cause.”

A tween girl wearing too much eye makeup was next. “I feel
terrible for Sasha. She’s so pretty, and that other one looked so yuck on TV
with her hair going everywhere and those disgusting clothes. No way. I love
Sasha! Yay Sasha! We love you!”

Jada’s face grew more strained with each passing second.

Ian reached down, pried the remote control from her clenched
fist and turned off the TV. “That’s enough. It’s disgusting muckraking of the
worst kind. Everybody clear out and give Jada her room back.”

Elly disappeared practically before Ian finished talking,
the tray of breakfast dishes rattling loudly in her arms. Agatha and Sasha took
their time departing.