Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Alpha Males (146 page)

“Honey, in a year and a half, no one will
remember anything except that you had one of the classiest, coolest, and
funnest weddings in recent memory.
 
Nobody cares about those stupid stories on the Internet.
 
And besides, a little publicity can be
fun for a happy occasion,” Marcie told her.

Nicole reminded herself that it would be
inappropriate to slap her wedding planner at the bakery during a cake tasting,
so she refrained from responding to Marcie’s inane dispensing of folk wisdom.

The baker at Lady Cakes came to the front
again and started taking all of them through the cake choices and flavor
combinations, setting one of her cakes down in front of them to taste and
discuss.

 
That’s when Nicole got a phone call from
Danielle.

While Marcie and her mother tried the
white cake with vanilla buttercream icing, Nicole stepped away from the table.

She almost didn’t answer, but something
in her gut told her she should take the call.
 
“Hello,” she said, uncertainty in her
voice.

“Nicole, it’s me.
 
Danielle.”

“How are you?” she asked, her voice
carefully neutral.

“I’m fine.
 
Listen, I know you don’t like me very
much right now, but I still care about you and I’m sorry about what happened
between us the last time I saw you.”

“Me too,” she said softly into the phone.

Suddenly, from behind Nicole, came the
sound of roaring laughter.
 
“Nicole,
honey, you just have to try this cake!
 
The frosting is to die for!
 
No, I take it back—it’s to kill for!”
 
More unruly laughter.
 
Nicole put a finger in one ear and
walked further away from them.

“But that’s not even why I’m calling you
right now,” Danielle continued. “I can tell you’re busy so I won’t take up much
more of your time.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind.
 
I’m glad you called.”
 
She realized it was very true—she
missed the sound of Danielle’s voice.

“Kane mentioned that The Rag ran another
article about you today.
 
It really
pissed me off that they did that to you.”

“It’s okay, I know you’re not the leak,
Danielle,” Nicole said.
 
“I’m so, so
sorry I accused you of that.”

Behind her, there was more laughter—cackling,
ridiculous braying that caused Nicole to move to the door of the bakery and
then finally outside to escape.
 
It
shouldn’t have been Marcie and her mother at the cake tasting with her, she
realized.
 
It should have been
Danielle, and Red if he’d wanted to come.
 
They could have had a nice time together.

“Anyway, I told Kane I wanted to know who
was giving The Rag all of this information about your private life.
 
I told him I’d make living with me hell
on earth if he didn’t find out right away.
 
It took him all of five minutes to make a phone call and get the answer
for me.”

Nicole wanted to cry.
 
“You did that for me, after the way I
treated you?”

“We’re always going to be friends,
Nic.
 
You can’t change that by being
bratty one time.
 
Besides, I can
understand exactly why you felt the way you did about me.
 
I’m living with the man who owns the
tabloid that’s making your life miserable!”

Nicole laughed.
 
“That definitely didn’t help matters.”

“I’m happy to help you to plug the leak,
Nicole.
 
I think that will be mine
and Kane’s wedding present for you.”

“That’s a generous offer.”

“Kane told me that the name The Rag gave
him for the informant was Marcie Tilly.”

“Are you absolutely sure, Danielle?”

“Yes, one hundred percent.
 
Do you know her?”

“Apparently not as well as I thought I
did.”

Nicole turned and looked through the
window of the bakery, as Marcie sat shoveling cake into her mouth, guffawing
and laughing along with Nicole’s mother.
 

“Well, I’ll let you go,” Danielle
said.
 
“Hope you’re doing well.”

“I’m sorry about everything I said
before,” Nicole told her.
 
“Really
sorry.
 
If you were her right now
I’d get down and kiss your feet.”

Danielle laughed sadly.
 
“Don’t worry about it.
 
Maybe we’ll talk again, sooner rather
than later?”

“Absolutely,” she said, and then Danielle
was gone.
 

She closed her eyes, took a few deep
breaths, and then Nicole went back inside the bakery.

The baker was in back getting the next
cake for them to try.

“Nicole, are you going to even have
some?” her mother asked.
 
“We can’t
pick a cake of the bride doesn’t taste any of them.”

“Yes,” she said, picking up a fork and
digging into the white cake.
 
It was
good—amazing, even.
 
She
licked her fork clean.

“Are you all right, darling?” Marcie
asked.
 
“You look pale.”

Nicole glanced at her.
 
She noticed—for the first
time—that Marcie didn’t particularly like making direct eye contact.
 
The large woman laughed and chattered a
lot but rarely looked Nicole in the eye.
 

Nicole sighed.
 
“I just got a pretty strange phone
call.”

“Is everything okay?” her mom asked.

“Yes and no.”
 
Nicole took another bite of cake,
turning her attention to the wedding planner.
 
“Marcie, has anyone from the tabloids
ever called you for any reason?”

Marcie looked up with a startled
expression.
 
“Me?
 
Why would anybody call me?”

“That’s an odd question to ask, Nicole,”
her mother said.

Before Nicole could explain herself, the
baker came back with the next cake, a chocolate devil’s food cake with vanilla
icing.
 
The baker talked about the
properties of the cake, its flavors, and what wedding it might be best suited
for.
 

Nicole could tell that Marcie was
distracted and not her jovial self during the discussion.

“I’ll let you guys taste it and I’ll be
just around the corner if you have any questions,” the blond baker said,
smiling and walking off.

Marcie’s hands were twitchy and busy
tugging at her large shirt.
 
She
smiled at Nicole.
 
“You know, come
to think of it—I do believe someone might have called me once.”
 
She looked up at the ceiling and blinked
furiously.
 
“I’m trying to remember
what they said.
 
It was a reporter…I
really didn’t tell him much.”

“Was it someone from The Rag?”

“I—I can’t even say.”
 
She looked at Nicole and looked away
again.
 
“The whole thing is just so
crazy.
 
I’m a small town gal and we
don’t really deal with tabloids and that sort of thing.
 
I’m a trusting person, you know?”

“I do know.
 
I wouldn’t blame you if you’d spoken to
someone without realizing it could be a problem.”

Nicole’s mother was watching Nicole with
a confused expression on her face.
 
“What’s going on?
 
Is someone
going to clue me in?”

Marcie laughed.
 
“You know, this is silly.
 
I’ve done nothing wrong, but somehow I
feel accused.”

“Well, someone’s been talking to The Rag
about my wedding, and it’s allowing a hateful online gossip site to write
horrible stories about us, revealing our private information to the world.”

“And you think it was me?” Marcie
cried.
 
“Why would I do such a
thing?”

“You wouldn’t,” Nicole’s mother
said.
 
“Nicole, stop insinuating
these things about Marcie.
 
She’s a
good friend and a very ethical person, which I happen to know.
 
So unless you have evidence that she did
something wrong—“

“Actually, I do have evidence.”

Marcie’s eyes practically bugged out of
her head.
 
“I swear—Nicole, I
swear—if I did speak to someone in the beginning—“

“So you didn’t tell someone at The Rag
about the date and time and location of our wedding?” Nicole said.
 
She was calm, about as calm as she’d
ever felt in her life.

“Nicole,” her mother practically
shouted.
 
“How dare you accuse her
of that?”

“Did you, Marcie?” Nicole asked again.

Marcie laughed nervously.
 
“Now look.
 
Let me just get something clear,
Nicole.
 
I’ve been in this wedding
and party planning game for a long time, and I might be privy to a few details
that you’re not.
 
There are
marketing and publicity efforts that go on behind the scenes, and everyone does
it.
 
It’s good to have a high
profile, fun wedding.
 
Heck,
sometimes the couple sells their own wedding pictures to People Magazine for
millions of dollars!
 
Did you ever
think of that?”

Her mother was nodding at Marcie’s
comment.
 
“She’s got a point,
Nicole.
 
I remember when Tom and
Katie did that.
 
Everyone knows that
goes on.”

“Well, you could have checked with us to
see if that’s what we wanted to do,” Nicole said.

“I assumed you did, and I guess I assumed
wrong.
 
But I
never—never—meant any harm, Nicole.
 
I swear to you, as God is my witness.”

Nicole had a hunch, and she decided to
play one last card.
 
Toying with her
fork, she finally took a scoop of the devil’s food cake, which no one had even
touched yet.
 
“I do understand,
Marcie, more than you even know.”
 
She took a bite of the cake and chewed for a while.
 
“It’s good,” she said.
 
“I might like it better than the first
one.”

Marcie nodded with frightened eyes.
 
“Oh, good.”

“So, I also had someone from my security
firm do a quick investigation and they said your husband never went to the
hospital for heart issues, Marcie.”

“What?
 
You think I lied about my husband’s
heart condition now?”

Nicole looked Marcie squarely in the
eye.
 
She channeled Red from memory,
the way he dealt with people who were weak, people he didn’t respect.
 
She stood a little taller, set her jaw a
certain way, and spoke with more force.
 
“Don’t lie to me again, Marcie, or I swear I’ll make sure you never plan
another wedding, a party—I don’t care if it’s just a five person Super
Bowl party in Antarctica.
 
I will
make it my business to ruin you if you lie to me one more time.
 
And if you know anything about my
husband, you know he’ll help me make that threat a reality.”

Marcie gave an audible gulp.
 
“Please don’t do anything rash.”

“It’s your choice.
 
Just tell me the truth.
 
Did you really have to take your husband
to the emergency room, or did you purposely ignore my calls that day because
you didn’t want to cancel all of those invitations?”

Marcie hung her head.
 
“Nicole, I apologize for my
actions.
 
I just got overexcited and
I did some things—I made some mistakes, obviously—“

“Just answer me.”

Marcie licked her lips.
 
“No, my husband did not go to the
emergency room.”

“Thank you for being honest.
 
I do appreciate it.
 
And now, I’m afraid I really should get
going.”

“Nicole,” her mother called.
 
“Wait a second.
 
Marcie apologized and I think you can
give her a second chance.
 
It’s all
out in the open now.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“She’s my friend.
 
And she’s good at what she does.”

“Mom, I hate to say this in a public
place, but for once in your life—just mind your own damn business.”
 

And then Nicole turned on her heel and
left the bakery.