Three and a Half Weeks (47 page)

Ian gets up out of his chair and propels his sister into the house, leaving Ella to fend for herself in the den of lions. Shortly thereafter,
Diana Benson makes her way over to Ella, as Ian and Zoe return to the terrace.

Ella nods politely and says hello.
Diana Benson is much more polished and therefore more discreet than Kaylie and easily hides her reaction to the unwelcome news of Ian’s engagement. Her smile seemingly genuine, she offers her congratulations. Only Ian can see the fireworks behind her social facade as she digests the new information. It’s in the way her back straightens, her eyes slightly narrow, and lines form around her mouth indicating tension.

The conversation shifts to current events, Trevor’s new project, Faith’s news from the art world, and Kaylie’s new career in public relations. Zoe’s other friend, Sarah, having recently been married, returns the conversation to Ian’s engagement.

“So, Ella, have you considered wedding planners yet?”

Sensing an ally in Sarah, Ella smiles with relief. “Yes, we just met with one yesterday. Lissette Simmons? She seems competent.”

“Oh my God, snagging Lissette is like hitting the lottery. How did you manage that one? She’s booked for years in advance.”

Surprised, Ella turns to Ian. “How did you swing that, Ian?”

“My assistant arranged the meeting for me. I’m sure Lissette appreciates the fact that planning our wedding is a coup for her in terms of publicity. The advertising capital alone will be worth it, since mention of our wedding and the attendant details will make all of the social media.”

Noticing that Kaylie looks about ready to spit bullets, Faith moves the party inside for lunch, sorely regretting her guest list.

Kaylie manages to slide in next to Ian, with Ella on his other side. Diana Benson sits directly across from him. The late thirtyish woman is wearing a very tight white sleeveless shift with a bright green geometric design. Her white sandals sport four-inch heels and show off her tanned legs and manicured toenails.

Thus caged by former love interests, uncomfortable is the only adjective that keeps popping into Ian’s head but his top priority is keeping Ella from feeling the slings and arrows directed her way from both spurned women. It’s not an enviable task but he’s prepared to take on anything for Ella.

The kitchen staff had just served the salad course when Kaylie launches her attack. “So, tell me Ella, how did you and our Ian meet?”

Ella must sense the enmity in Kaylie for Ian could see her face slide into the mask that she uses for people she doesn’t particularly like. Her posture becomes rigid and her smile slight and forced. She answers politely. “Ian came into the boutique where I worked part-time while still attending undergraduate school. He was shopping for a birthday gift for his favorite sister,” she smiles genuinely at Zoe.

Zoe rolls her eyes and grins. “I’m his only sister, Ella. So, to clarify, I’m responsible for bringing you two together?”

Kaylie is not to be deterred. “So when Ian met you, you were a salesgirl? How utterly
Cinderella
-ish.”

Ella responds with the most meager of smiles and quickly starts up a conversation with Sarah, who is seated on her other side. Sarah asks her which boutique and when Ella tells her, she becomes excited.

“Oh, that’s one of my favorite shops. You know, I actually remember you! You were always so nice and helpful. It’s so great that you met your future husband while working at Archipelago. You know, all of Zoe’s girlfriends were after Ian when we were growing up, but none of us were able to snag him.”

Snickering, Kaylie says, “Speak for yourself, Sarah, dear. I did just fine with him, didn’t I,” she looks at Ian and winks.

Ian clutches Ella’s hand and turns to the other end of the table where his father is seated. “I hear your patent was finally approved, Dad. Do you think it will be clear sailing from here on in?”

Trevor laughs, joined by Jeff Benson. “It never is,” Jeff adds, “just one hurdle after another.”

“Well, securing the patent must be more than half the battle, correct?”

“Half… maybe.”

Miriam begins telling them about the financial and critical success of Faith’s recent exhibit and after Faith whispers something to the head waitperson, the courses are served swiftly, one after the other. On the surface, things seem to settle down.

After the meal concludes, Ella finds herself chatting about wedding details with Faith when Ian steps away with his father for a couple of minutes.
Diana Benson chooses that moment to pounce, joining their conversation with a smile.

“Ella, dear, what designer will you choose for your wedding dress?”

Smiling in a friendly manner, Ella answers truthfully, “I haven’t given it any thought just yet. In fact, my best friend and I are going dress shopping for the first time next week.”

“Oh? Will you be wearing white?”

Ella blushes. “Yes, I think so. Ivory, perhaps, but we’ll be going traditional pretty much all the way.”

“How nice. I’m sure it will be lovely. You might want to look at the dresses that J. Crew offers. They’re fantastic and the prices are good if you’re on a budget.”

“Oh, but I’m not,” Ella replies airily, her intuition putting her on bitch alert, “and I plan to splurge on a dress. I have to spend my money on something, after all.”

Diana
plasters a smile on her tanned face as Faith pats Ella’s shoulder. “I’d love to help, if you need any advice. I especially love choosing bridal gowns.” Her hint is weighted with iron and drops down on Ella with a thud.

“Of course you’re welcome to tag along, Mrs. Blackmon, if you’d like.”

“Oh, I’d love to! And please call me Faith. When are we going?”

Fortuitously, Ian returns to rescue her. He comes up behind her and wraps both of his arms around her small waist. “Is my mother torturing you about wedding details yet?”

“Ian!” Faith admonishes her son, “I do not torture people. I was just offering my soon to be daughter-in-law my assistance if it’s desired.”

Chuckling, Ian takes one arm from Ella to swing around his mother’s shoulder. “Only kidding, Mom. I’m sure Ella will appreciate all the help she can get.”

“Yes, that’s true, Faith. My mother lives out of state so her help will be limited thus, I’d be thrilled to have you around. Thank you for offering.”

“Shall we head home, Ella? We can draw up a guest list tonight and our parents can do theirs and then we’ll put them together so we can get an idea of the number of guests.”

Eager to get away from all these women who covet Ian, Ella quickly agrees. “I’m just going to visit the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

On her way back from the bathroom, she passes what looks like a study, in a décor dominated by masculine tones. Inside the open door are Zoe, Kaylie, and Sarah. Kaylie is speaking in a loud whisper and Ella can hear almost everything she’s saying.

“… kidding? Why is Ian doing this… marrying her? Do you think she’s pregnant? I mean, since when is Ian the marrying kind anyway? He wouldn’t marry me and we were very much in love.”

“Just because Ian wouldn’t marry you doesn’t mean he’s not the marrying kind, Kaylie. He must love Ella.” That was Zoe; Ella could hug her right about now. “And exactly when were you and my brother very much in love? I somehow missed that relationship.”

“Ella is charming. I can totally see why Ian would fall for her.” This time it’s Sarah sticking up for her.

“Some friends you two are.”
Kaylie sniffs dramatically. “Personally, I don’t think she’s nearly good enough for our Ian.”

Zoe snorts. “
Our
Ian? Since when does he belong to all of us?”

“Oh, pish posh, he’s always been ours. He’s your brother, for God’s sake, Zoe. Don’t you feel proprietary over him?”

“No, I hate him, as every normal girl hates her brothers. He tortured me when I was young. Let me tell you, I won’t forget…”

Ella steps quietly away before she gets caught eavesdropping and goes to rejoin Ian. He’s in the middle of what looks like a heated conversation with
Diana Benson. As soon as he spots his fiancée, he smiles and steps away from Mrs. Benson.

“Ready?”

“Yes. Let’s say our goodbyes to your parents.”

“Oh,” Faith cries, “you’re leaving already? Ella, please call me this week and let me know details about your shopping trip. Okay?” She pulls Ella into an embrace.

“Absolutely. And thank you for a wonderful lunch and even better company. It was lovely meeting Ian’s family.”

“Ditto,” Trevor says, joining their little group. “We’re very happy you’re joining our family, Ella. Welcome.”

“Thank you, Mr. Blackmon.”

“You don’t need to be so formal. You can just call me Your Royal Highness.” He winks and grins, one side of his mouth going up in a crooked smile.

Ella smiles back. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just use the salutation of King?”

“You know, maybe that would be best,” Trevor replies with a twinkle in his eye. “After all, I am king of my castle, aren’t I?”

“Don’t be too sure, Dad. This house has a strong queen; I don’t think there’s room for a king.” Ian winks at his mom.

On the way home, the interior of the fast sports car is quiet. Neither of them want to discuss the day or more specifically the two women who obviously held some claim on Ian in the past. What Ella couldn’t understand is why Faith invited them if she knew they were involved at one time? Sooner or later, they’d have to broach the subject but right now she wasn’t feeling up to it—her feelings of resentment were too fresh.

When they ge
t to the house, by mutual agreement, they decide to take a nap and end up sleeping until nine that night, which left little time to do much else so they decide to actually do their guest list. When they’re done, there are nearly two hundred people who absolutely must be invited.

Ian looks at Ella: “This is going to be a big wedding. You know that right?”

“Unless we elope?”

“Our parents would kill us.”

“Not necessarily. By the way, am I still required to have a bodyguard?”

“For now, yes. Until I resolve the Natasha thing… Okay?”

Wearily she nods. “If you say so.”

Monday. The day is dragging on interminably: meeting after meeting. It’s an endless cycle but no one seems capable of making an independent decision; they all need bloody handholding. Rushing from one fire to the next, he didn’t even have any time to dwell on the big news of the day: the information his surveillance team relayed to him this morning.

Ian sighs, running his hand through his disheveled hair. He needs to get a haircut soon. Over the weekend, he and Ella called her parents and then went to Laurel Hill to tell his parents about their engagement and upcoming nuptials. That was a fiasco. How his mother unknowingly
managed to invite not one but two of his former lovers, he doesn’t know. Ella was nervous enough about meeting his parents—she’d called it the den of lions. She’d really come close since she’d actually stepped into one with Diana Benson being present, not to mention the whining Kaylie. Now the circus will begin: he knows that once his mother sinks her teeth into it, there’ll be no stopping her. Poor Ella, he thinks. She doesn’t know what’s coming. The wheels very much in motion, they were going to be busy for the foreseeable future.

“Mr. Blackmon?” Janine’s voice comes through clearly over the speaker.

“What is it, Janine?”

“I have a call from Daniel Butler on line three, sir.”

He smiles. Janine using the term of respect reminds him of the first night he met Ella; when she called him sir, life as he knew it was all over. Of course, coming from Janine, it was merely annoying. “Put it through, please. Daniel?”

“Ian.”

“Any news?”

“Confirm that you’re alone and we’re not on speaker.”

“Confirmed.”

“Are your people still watching the subject?”

“Yes, but as I told you, she was grabbed earlier today and there’s been nothing since. Do we know who snatched her and why? It wasn’t the operative: he just arrived in Portland about an hour ago.”

“I do know. Now I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to think very hard before you answer. Do you really want to know her fate?”

Ian takes a moment to think about it, as Daniel advised. If he didn’t know, wouldn’t it be better? If she were dead, he’d feel guilt over it; there was no doubt about that. If she were alive, he might still have cause to worry or continue the op.

However, not knowing was unacceptable to a logical mind. He needed to know
, despite the consequences. Taking a fortifying breath, he answered his friend. “Yes, Daniel, I want to know.”

“Okay, then, Ian. Here it is: Natasha Yenin is on her way to Saudi Arabia to become the sixth wife of an important sheik. Well, technically not a wife—more of a concubine, so I understand. He happens to like tall blonds. She will not have access to travel, means of communication, or any autonomy at all for a very long time, until, as he phrased it, she’s fully ‘reconciled’ to her new situation.” He promises she will not be harmed to any extent that will endanger her life or scar her body. He merely wants her to be trained to provide him pleasures that his Arab wives cannot be asked to provide due to religious strictures.