“You have to buy more clothes. Seriously. It’s important for our image, particularly mine, that you do not seem to have to recycle the same clothes continually. It will make me look cheap and as if I don’t want to outfit my new bride.”
“I can wear the same pair of pants twice. I’m not a Kardashian, dude. I like this outfit. It reminds me of Vegas and how I flew coach out there, convinced I was going to be downsized in the merger, and I flew home on a private jet with my new rich husband. Anybody who says Las Vegas isn’t lucky…never went there with me!”
“It was the best jackpot I’ve ever hit in a casino, and I won fifteen grand at the craps table when I was twenty-one.”
“If I ever had fifteen grand at one time, I’d…I don’t even know what I would do, but it would damn sure be spectacular. Please tell me you didn’t go buy a Ford Focus for some stripper with the money?”
“No, it was a Nissan.”
“Really?” she asked.
“No, but you should see your face right now. Here’s the deal, we’re going to Dubai. You’ll have to keep your shoulders covered, but other than that, we’re staying in a cosmopolitan hotel that caters to international travelers so the restrictions are minimal, and you’ll be able to see a great deal of the city itself while we’re there. I have a few destinations booked, but we can also take a bit of time to explore the surrounding area.”
“Sounds fabulous. I don’t have much experience with vacations, except that one summer Britt and I went to the Jersey shore. I got a sunburn, and we both ate too much sugar because there was this killer donut shop on the boardwalk. I still hate myself for that.”
“For some sugary treat you ate years ago?”
“Yes. I had five donuts that day. It’s sickening. I’m proud to say I haven’t eaten a single donut since that time,” she declared.
“If you love them that much then you should have one once in a while.”
“Are you kidding? Do you know what a woman’s metabolism does when she hits thir—twenty-six?” she demanded.
“No, but there’s no sense depriving yourself is all I’m saying.”
“I’m not eating donuts in Dubai,” Marj warned him.
“I doubt you can even get donuts there. They have some spectacular citrus though,” he said, “I do think you’ll like it there.”
“I don’t know why I wouldn’t. Top hotel, private jet, hot husband wanting to take me sightseeing.”
Marj slept on the plane for most of the flight, so Brandon was able to get some work emails sent and review the prospectus for his potential investment in Dubai. He had a few concerns about it, but they were minor, and it was certainly worth the trip to have a closer look. Not to mention the benefit of having Marj with him. Even though she was feisty and blunt, and could potentially set off an international incident with her cleavage or her brash way of speaking, it was better to have her with him. He knew that he was in many ways more at ease when she was near.
Once they landed in Dubai, he woke her and when her eyes fluttered open, and she reached for him, he did not hesitate to kiss her. She was his wife, after all, and he liked kissing her. He was thankful for the strict no-media policy at the airport that allowed them to deplane and get in their waiting car without interference. He intended to show her off to the press later, in a planned way, to announce their romantic getaway and set the rumor mills humming about their great love story instead of the suspicions Lena’s camp seemed intent on planting in the news.
He would pose somewhere with Marj, he decided, his arm around her, their heads together conspiratorially. Nothing obviously that would offend the local mores about public displays of affection, but a clearly fond and close posture, something that would set speculation on its ear. They would be photographed doing all manner of romantic honeymoon style tourism. He h ad even made reservations—or Holly had—for dinner at Burj al-Arab where they could toast each other at the highest point, sitting far above the rest of civilization.
The hotel was first class, the service white-glove. They were whisked up a private elevator to the penthouse suite with its phenomenal view. A sumptuous platter of fresh fruits and bottles of chilled sparkling water awaited them. Marj immediately seized a slice of juicy pineapple and began nibbling it while she roamed the expansive suite, murmuring about how impressed she was and how perfect it was in every small detail. The dried apricots and almonds in a silver dish beside the sunken bathtub, the sandalwood toiletries in chic black bottles, the bank of thick white pillar candles in the bedroom fireplace, the lush fur throw across the foot of the massive bed. Everything about the place exuded luxury and sensuality. Her sultry gaze told him that the ambience was very effective for her.