Treasured by Thursday(26)
The click of a tongue brought Hunter’s attention around the room.
Andrew held a pot of coffee and waited for Hunter to sit back so he could pour.
Instead of moving away, Andrew stood over him. “Any pressing news your valet needs to know?”
Hunter sipped his coffee and smiled over his cup.
“Yes, actually. We’re going to be moving soon.”
Andrew lifted an eyebrow and waited.
“To a house.”
“Is that right?”
“Hmm . . .” he took another sip and placed the tabloid aside. “I need you to change a name on the registry.”
“What name would that be?”
“Gabriella Blackwell.”
“Long-lost family member?” Andrew asked, knowing full well there were no such entities out there.
“New family member. The tabloids have it right, Andrew. I married Miss Masini last week.”
Andrew blinked and uttered, “In the old movies, the butlers and maids knew everything that happened in a household, yet here I stand in the dark.”
Hunter picked up his coffee and folded the paper under his arm. “You’re going to like her. Sassy with a hot temper.” The image of her fighting with her brother brought a smile to his lips. “And beautiful.”
“Beauty doesn’t go far with an old man.”
Hunter tapped the edge of the paper on Andrew’s shoulder. “Good thing I’m not old.”
Andrew’s eyes followed him as he exited the room.
Fish in a bowl, cells under a microscope . . . and Hunter as a married man had many things in common.
He ignored most of the looks and peered past the distant cameras as he walked into his LA office.
Tiffany was the only one brave enough to say anything. “The phone hasn’t stopped ringing since I walked in. Should I call a news conference?”
“On Thursday.”
Tiffany pulled another message from her pile. “Travis O’Riley asked that you call him.”
“OK.”
Tiffany handed him a message from her pile. “A Mrs. Masini called, said if you knew what was best for you . . . and I’m quoting here . . . ‘You best call your mother-in-law at your earliest convenience.’”
There was no doubt about it; Tiffany was getting a kick out of delivering that message.
“Anything else?”
“One more thing . . . there’s a Blake Harrison sitting in your office waiting for you.”
Hunter’s gaze moved to the closed office doors and he handed the messages back to Tiffany. “Hold my calls.”
“And if your wife calls?”
He lifted a finger in the air. “Except hers.”
Instead of a snarky remark or a look to match, Tiffany delivered something much more menacing . . . approval.
Without words, Tiffany returned to her desk, and Hunter moved into his office.
“Your Grace.”
Blake Harrison wore a perfectly fitted suit, half a smile, and sleep deprivation under his eyes.
“I’ll break you of that title one of these days.”
“You can try, but I happen to like boasting my acquaintance with a duke.”
They shook hands and Hunter circled his desk. “Coffee?”
“Your secretary already took care of that.”
Instead of pretending this was a scheduled meeting, Hunter took his seat. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
“I’m here for Sam. She’s preoccupied or she’d be here herself.”
The memory of Gabi saying something about Sam’s ill sister swam in his head. “How is your sister-in-law?”
“Not well. Which is why I’m here.”
Hunter sat back and waited. Blake wasn’t one to circle a bush, and thankfully, that hadn’t changed. “What can I help you with?”
Blake unbuttoned his jacket and sat in the chair opposite Hunter. “I’m going to paraphrase Sam’s words . . . but let me see if I can make this clear. I’ve taught Gabriella better. Go find out what the hell that man did to get her to marry him.” Blake’s voice raised an octave when he repeated his wife’s words.
He should have seen the question coming. Instead of revealing the truth, Hunter told his old friend something they both knew as truth. “Everyone has a price.”
Blake frowned as he sucked in a tired breath. “Not Gabi. She’s been through too much to have a price. Everyone who knows her knows that.”
For the first time since he’d crawled into the back of the limousine . . . the moment he started the blackmailing of his wife, a knot of uncertainty took a solid hold in his stomach.
“I made her an offer, Blake. She took it.”
Hunter knew, without a doubt, Blake didn’t buy his explanation.
“You know, Hunter . . . I’m a few years older than you. You’ve managed to amass a fortune in less time than I, but with age . . . and perhaps a handful of years with a good woman, I’d like to offer you some free advice.”