Indulge Page 10

  Smiling, Lex picked up his phone and called Eddie. After a brief conversation, he called Rod. “Don’t tell me you’re ready to collect already, my friend.”

  “Jillian answered your phone,” he said, and Lex could hear the smile in his voice. “Did I interrupt something? You know I wouldn’t have minded listening. My imagination would have taken care of the rest.” Then he chuckled. “Or you could have just turned on the video feed for me to watch.”

  “What do you want, Rod?” Lex asked calmly. If anyone could see him, they’d think he was an idiot. He couldn’t stop smiling.

  “So you’re saying I didn’t interrupt a mile high f—?”

  “Cuddle,” Lex said.

  There was silence, then a laugh. “Yeah. Right.”

  “You wouldn’t understand. What’s going on?”

  “Check your spam folder,” Rod said. “Warwick got in touch again.”

  A cold knot coiled in Lex’s stomach. He reached for his tablet and logged on to his mail. In the last three years, they’d all received an e-mail annually from Paul Warwick, a former frat brother. Warwick was a genius, a serial rapist, and murderer. Lex and his buddies had put him in San Quentin, a rehabilitation center for men in California, and in the process, created a common enemy. Because of Warwick, they’d started their charity organization Infinitus Agendum—“forever mission” in Latin. At first, they’d used IA to win justice for those who would otherwise lack representation, like most of Warwick’s victims. Then they’d expanded and gone global, bending laws in some countries and even breaking a few.

  “How the fuck does he keep doing this?” Rod asked. “Cade checked the visitor’s log, but he hasn’t had any in the last five years. His father is dead. His mother, uh, step-mother disappeared along with his step-sister. No one knows what happened to his family fortune.”

  “The IP address?” Lex asked.

  “Different, just like the others. This one belongs to someone in Fargo, North Dakota.”

  They went through this every year. The computer experts in their group—Cade, Rake, and Lucien—got pissed each time because despite their firewalls and computer security measures, Warwick always managed to find a way around them, using a different e-mail address every time.

  Lex searched his spam folder. “Are you guys headed to Sloan’s?”

  “Yes. Get over here as soon as you land. It is worse this time, and there’s more.”

  Lex found the e-mail.

  The subject line read: Congrats, Fitz?

  Don’t think so. Guess the Brit wasn’t good enough. Jillian… Pretty name for a pretty lady. She looks like Gigi, totally our type. Right, Rake? Keep her close, Fitz. Keep her real close because none of you bitches deserve to be happy. You won’t see me coming.

  Anger flashed through Lex, but accompanying it was a hollow feeling in his gut. Warwick had better not go after Jillian. The e-mail wasn’t signed, but they all knew it had come from him.

  Twenty-five years had passed, and he still blamed them for his incarceration. At first he’d sent them e-mails sporadically, reminding them he hadn’t forgotten or forgiven them. Prisoners had no access to computers, yet he always managed to pull this shit. He’d never mentioned the women they’d dated in the past either. This time was different. He’d threatened Jillian and even mentioned his ex-lover, who’d been more of a friend-with-benefits than a girlfriend.

  Lex cursed, he’d put off telling Jillian about Infinitus Agendum until after the wedding, believing things were crazy enough without bringing up Warwick. He must rectify it as soon as possible.

  He put the phone down, his palm sweating. There’s more, Rod had said. How much more?

  CHAPTER 7

  Lex’s voice reached Jillian as she walked past the bedroom with a drink, and she smiled. He’d fallen asleep in her arms, and every time she’d tried to ease from under him, his arms would tighten around her. Finally, she’d stopped trying and stayed, until a few minutes ago.

  Douglas was watching something on the TV screen by his seat and switched it off when he saw her. After the craziness in Vancouver, she wouldn’t be surprised to learn he was watching her life story, which was now an open book, unfold. She’d shunned the kind of notoriety most Hollywood stars craved, yet now it was being forced on her. Life was a bitch.

  Troy and Faith were discussing fashion while Faith’s seamstress dozed off a few chairs away.

  “You do know she’s paid handsomely to see to your every need,” Faith said, her eyes going to the drink in Jillian’s hand. Jillian knew she was referring to the flight attendant.

  “I know. But I was asleep and missed lunch.” Truth be told, she was still getting used to people anticipating her needs and fulfilling them. Tina, the flight attendant, had been mortified by her sudden appearance and hastened to give Jillian whatever she wanted. “She’s fixing me a plate.” She sat next to Troy and asked, “How did things go?”

  “I just finished arranging the last ones.” He swiped his tablet. “Mona said she’s already dropped off a few wedding things from the bridal line and some dresses, but since you weren’t home she left them with Paula. She also found several satin pumps with Swarovski crystal details you could choose from. She’ll be available today and tomorrow if you don’t like them and want something else.”

  “Wonderful. She’s so sweet to offer to get my shoes, too. What?” Jillian added when she caught a weird expression on Troy’s face.

  “Who are Mona and Paula?”

  “Mona works at Noelle Lingerie.” She was her personal shopper. Jillian never had a personal shopper before, but the woman was proving to be a gem. “And Paula Watson is Lex’s assistant.” The woman was intimidating. Lex had introduced her to Paula a week ago. No one went into Lex’s office without her permission.

  “So does that mean you don’t need me to shop with you?” Troy asked, and Jillian grinned. He was jealous. How cute.

  “Yes, I do. Mona only helps with lingerie from Noelle, and the shoe thing was a favor.” She elbowed him. “You’re still my man.”

  He grinned. “You have an appointment tomorrow afternoon with Simi. He’ll be at the penthouse at two in the afternoon for a wash and trim, and on Saturday morning to style your hair for the wedding. He’s bringing his team to give you a mani-pedi and a facial, too.”

  Jillian’s jaw dropped. “You got my diva hairstylist to come to me? How? I usually have to wait two weeks to get an appointment and never for all three treatments.”

  “Magic tongue,” Troy bragged. He lowered his voice to add, “They’ll also take care of anything else you might need.” He glanced pointedly at her crotch.

  Jillian laughed. Her Brazilian wax was fresh. She always made sure of that. “We’re good.”

  “I’m seriously considering stealing him from you, Jillian,” Faith cut in.

  “Sorry, he’s mine.” Jillian had given Troy her appointments this morning, hoping he’d convince one of Simi’s girls to squeeze her in. Simi was a genius when it came to women’s hair. That bigwig Hollywood stylists weren’t beating down his doors still surprised her. “Simi actually said he would come to the house to do my hair?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon,” Troy said, speaking slowly “And style it on Saturday morning for your wedding.” He sighed. “I’m repeating myself.”

  Jillian grinned. There were perks to being famous, or infamous.

  “She doesn’t get it,” Troy added with a dramatic sigh and exchanged a glance with Faith.

  Jillian elbowed him playfully. “I get it, smarty pants. He’s cashing in on my temporary fame.”

  Troy exchanged another glance with Faith.

  “What?” Jillian asked, getting a little irritated.

  “Did you happen to catch the news since last night?” Troy asked.

  “Nope.” She’d been busy teaching Lex how to let go. And what a student he’d turned out to be. As soon as she got home, she was shopping for a pair of man cuffs. “What are they saying now?”

  “T
he Consulate General of Armenia was interviewed today when he arrived at the hotel to meet with your grandmother.”

  Jillian shrugged. “So?”

  “So he said he was looking forward to meeting you and introducing you to his people,” Troy explained. “Your fame may not be temporary. The people in Little Armenia can’t wait to meet you.”

  “Do you have plans this evening?” Faith asked.

  “If it involves meeting Armenians, then I do.” She had no interest in being the poster child for anyone.

  Faith laughed. “No, I was hoping you had time for dinner. The girls want to spend a few hours with you.”

  The girls meant the Fitzgerald women. Jillian was in. “I’m meeting my grandmother this afternoon, then my dad, but I should be free for dinner.”

  Faith flashed a grin. “Perfect. I’ll tell the others and make arrangements. Is seven o'clock okay?”

  “Seven is perfect.” She hoped Lex would be okay with it. Immediately, Jillian gave herself a mental kick. She didn’t need his permission. Or did she?

  A mental debate followed, and she lost. Or rather, her emotional side lost to her logical side. She should at least check with him in case he had something planned for them. Jillian sighed. It was going to take a while to get used to putting someone’s feelings ahead of hers. She’d been independent for too long. She glanced toward the door to the bedroom, debating whether to check on Lex. She just decided to do it when the flight attendant left the galley with a tray.

  “Thanks, Tina. See if Mr. Fitzgerald wants something,” Jillian told her after she placed the tray in front of her.

  “Yes, Ms. Finnegan.”

  Jillian moved to a different chair and ate while listening to Troy and Faith discuss fashion. She was not fashion savvy. She just knew what she liked, casual chic—jeans with whatever top she picked from her closet. Her weaknesses were jackets, scarves, and shoes. Amazing what those three things could do to an outfit

  She was debating whether to rejoin Lex when she saw what Douglas was watching. CGEN—Celebrity Gossip and Entertainment News. She could recognize the five commentators lounging around an office. They were cattier and bitchier toward celebrities than most panelists out there.

  Douglas wore headphones, so Jillian couldn’t hear a thing, but she knew she and Lex were the subject, because on the screen was footage of the two of them walking arm-in-arm at the Georgia Viaduct after she finished her stunt. That was only two hours ago. Someone must have videotaped them using some serious video recording device because the image was clear and not shaky at all. Most zoomed-in recordings were never that clear.

  Jillian tuned in to CGEN and caught the tail end of the conversation.

  “America’s fallen in love with her, but his family hasn’t?” a bearded man said. “What’s wrong with them? I mean, look at her. What’s not to like?”

  The footage switched to a picture of her in a two-piece. Her jaw dropped when she realized where it had been taken. The fucking pool by her old condominium complex. Perverts. She always knew some lived in her complex. Bet they also had recordings. Jillian hadn’t decided what to do with her condo, because she’d just renewed the lease. Now she couldn’t wait to unload it on some poor unsuspecting person.

  “The girl has a body and an ass… wow,” the commentator continued.

  “I agree,” a heavyset woman quipped. “She’s an heiress to boot. If I were a dude, I’d marry her.”

  “I’m single and a dude. Marry me, Jillian Finnegan,” another man said, clutching his chest while staring at the camera. “Please. I can stop hanging out with these losers and be your prince consort. We’d live on wine from our vineyard and ride elephants in the circus, and… and… What else will she inherit?”

  “Stop it, guys,” a second woman cut in. “He is marrying her despite objections from certain members of his family, and he’s loaded, so he’s not after her money. We should be rooting for them. They are our Kate and William. And theirs is an American love story.”

  “So it’s official,” the first guy who’d spoken said. “American sweetheart and her billionaire fiancé should elope. Hashtag this.” He added a few things that were bleeped out.

  Jillian switched off the screen and shook her head. Only those very close to her knew about Vivian Fitzgerald’s objection to their marriage.

  “Where the hell does the media get information about me and Lex?” she asked, glancing at the others. From Troy and Faith’s expressions, they had watched the whole thing with her. Douglas didn’t comment, but his expression said he was pissed.

  “Someone could be selling them information,” Troy suggested.

  “Or not watching who is around them while they vented.” Like her father. No, she needed to stop blaming her father just because he’d started this storm. Anyone could have heard her talk to Vivian while on the set or vent to Chris and Troy. The woman had called her often, pissing her off every time. As for the footage, it was so clear the person who’d recorded it had to be right there on the bridge.

  Which one of the film crew was behind this?

  For the rest of the flight, Jillian mulled and stressed. She wanted to stay angry, but it was impossible and it took too much energy. The media was in the business of selling information, and she was trending now, which meant they’d dig and find out more stuff about her. Good or bad. Then there was the source. Someone close to her was supplying the media with information about her.

  Captain Mathews announced that they were approaching Van Nuys Airport, and Lex joined them. He seemed preoccupied.

  Everything happened fast once they landed. Faith’s husband was at the airport to pick her up. “I’ll call you this evening,” she reminded Jillian before they took off. The seamstress and Jillian’s gorgeous wedding gown left with them.

  Mathews, the copilot, and the flight attendant also left in their respective cars. Douglas had left the Escalade at the airport, so the four of them drove back to the penthouse with Troy riding shotgun. Troy lived not far from her condo in Burbank, but he wasn’t going home until the evening.

  “What’s wrong?” Jillian asked Lex after they took off. She spoke softly so their conversation wouldn’t carry to Douglas and Troy.

  Lex flashed her a brief smile. “What makes you think something is wrong?”

  “Because I’m good at reading people.”

  “I’ll be going out this evening,” he added. “Do you think you’ll be okay on your own?”

  Jillian chuckled. She’d worried over nothing. “I’m a big girl, silly. I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m going out, too, after I see my family.”

  He didn’t ask where she’d be going. Maybe he knew she had a date with Faith and the other Fitzgerald women, or maybe he was learning he couldn’t control her every movement. Whatever the case, she was happy he wasn’t insisting on knowing all the details.

  As soon as they arrived home, he gave her a quick kiss, spoke briefly with Douglas, and disappeared downstairs. Assuming he was headed to his office, Jillian gathered the bags Paula had left in the living room and hauled them to the bedroom. She’d look at the lingerie later, but the shoes…

  They were gorgeous. Jimmy Choo and Valentino bridal shoes. If she could wear them all, each pair for an hour or so, she would. Refusing to decide right away, she grabbed her jacket, gloves, helmet, and keys and left the bedroom.

  Douglas and Troy appeared to be having a heated discussion, but stopped when she re-entered the living room. She gave them a brief glance as she shrugged on her jacket.

  “I’m heading to my grandmother’s hotel and then my father’s. So, I’ll see you two later.” Douglas blocked her path when she could have headed to the door. “What?”

  “Mr. Fitzgerald said I should drive you to wherever you need to go.”

  “I’m riding shotgun,” Troy said. “In case the reporters are there.”

  “I don’t think so, guys,” Jillian told them. “Believe me, I’ll be less conspicuous arriving on my bike and keeping my hel
met on until I’m inside the hotel than arriving with an entourage. Namely you two.” She took a side step, but Douglas blocked her again.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Jillian, but you can’t leave unless we come with you,” he said.

  She sighed. Lex knew how she felt about a bodyguard. She didn’t need one and was insulted he hadn’t listened. “Listen, Douglas. I like you and I know you can kick ass, but I can take care of myself. Okay? I need the wind on my face after being cooped inside a plane for hours.”

  Douglas didn’t budge. “I’m sorry, Ms. Jillian. I’m following Mr. Fitzgerald’s orders.”

  She wondered what he’d do if she ducked and raced for the doors. Probably use some ninja move to render her unconscious.

  “Fine. I’ll go downstairs to the office and talk to Lex. Feel free to follow me because by the time I’m done with him, he’ll need help…” Her voice trailed off when she spied the helicopter lifting off the helipad. Jillian ran outside to the balcony and waved frantically, but Lex was already flying away.

  Pissed, she turned and faced the two men who’d followed her outside. “Excuse me.” Not wanting them to hear her conversation, she disappeared into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. She speed-dialed Lex’s number.

  “You are an ass, Lex Fitzgerald,” she snarled when the voice mail prompted her to leave a message. “You do not dictate what I can or cannot do. I warned you not to micromanage me. Warned you I will not tolerate being followed around. So call off your watch dogs or I swear…” No, she’d take care of this on her own now, then neuter him later. She hung up, took a deep breath, and went to splash water on her face.

  Now, she needed a plan. She wasn’t enabling Lex and his annoying overprotective tendencies. Once she gave in to him, he’d think it was okay to take charge of her life.

  Eyes narrowed with determination, Jillian fixed her makeup, ran a brush through her hair, and left the room. Troy and Douglas were talking in whispers. Probably conspiring on how to force her to follow their boss’ instructions.