Not a social invitation

CHAPTER 5: Not a social invitation 

“I suggest you change. We leave in twenty minutes,” I added, about heading up the stairs. 

There was no sound of movement behind me. Only silence. Then I heard the sound of something drop. I turned around and sure enough, Madelyn was still standing at the same spot. 

And the dress that Julia had handed her was now on the floor.

“Nicole Bomer? They got married?” 

Her voice was level. But her expression was a mask of disbelief, which soon gave way to anger. 

I did not reply.

“You knew about this all this time?”

Julia cleared her throat. “Excuse me, I have to take this,” she said, stepping out with her ringing phone. 

“At what point were you ever going to deem it necessary to tell me that they were married? Were you even ever going to say anything to me?”

“Yes.”

She took a single step forward. “And you're just telling me now? Is this the best way for me to find out?”

Honestly I never saw the point in letting her know. Telling about her worthless ex was never going to do her any good.

“I didn't see the need to inform you earlier. Then. Now. I fail to see the difference.”

Her laugh was hollow. “How considerate of you? How like you to take such decisions.” 

She shook her head. “What was I even expecting?” she breathed, chuckling bitterly.

I resisted the urge to sigh.

 “Don't make an issue out of it. It's a funeral, Madelyn. Not a social invitation.”

I really could not understand why she was making a fuss over it. But right now, she was looking at me like I said the most absurd and unbelievable thing.

“Can you listen to yourself? You expect me to follow meekly, like an obedient little wife to the funeral of Vance Bomer’s girlfriend—wife?”

A muscle ticked in my jaw.

She stepped closer now, arms crossed over her chest. 

“What am I supposed to do there? Smile and wave for the cameras? Pretend that everything is peachy?” 

My jaw clenched. “I never expected you to smile. It's a funeral.”

“That is not the point!” she all but yelled at the point of frustration. 

I had seen Madelyn angry before. Defiant. She had always been defiant with a fierce spirit since she was a little girl. But this passionate sharp-edged loathing was different. This cut deeper. And I was not clueless why. 

The Bomers.

Vance Bomer.

A quick glance at my watch, and I decided to hear what she had to say. I could spare a few minutes. I shoved my hands into my pockets.

 “Very well. Make your point.” 

“You know very well how I feel about that family. You saw all that they did to me—Vance and his mother. They were the reason why we ended up in this situation in the first place. Vance and Patricia Bomer are also the reason why I'm not living my dream life back in Lyon right now,”she said. “You know all this. What exactly changed? Why did you not tell me that the Bomers were your business partners—”

“Patricia Bomer approached me with a business proposal to buy out the majority shares in their company three years ago,” I interrupted calmly. “They were bleeding money and were dangerously tethering at the edge of bankruptcy. Their failure was as a result of poor leadership. It was a good deal. And it made sense to absorb their corporation.”

“So what? That makes it noble? And you didn't think to tell me this important piece of information when you came to Lyon?”

“You are not part of the company. I fail to see how you would have appreciated corporate affairs.”

“It is my life that they ruined,” she snapped. “You knew what Vance did and how his mother tried to cover it up.”

I was very much familiar with her history with the Bomers. What they had done, and what they represented when I decided to partner with them. I gave her my word to help her. But I was also a businessman, and unlike Madelyn I knew when not to be too passionate and emotional.

The decision I took was purely based on business. It had nothing to do with Madelyn. And I was not about to explain myself to her.

“Yes. I remember clearly, Madelyn. But buying out the Bomers was a strategic business move that I don't think you understand.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “You’re damn right I'm never going to understand. But of course, no one can ever understand what goes on in the mind of the great Zachary Blackwood. I'm only just your little pawn that you can drag off to a funeral like a pawn.”

I stared at her for a beat. The silence was thick with tension. She was upset and I knew that she had every right to be. 

“You’re not a pawn. You're my wife.”

She held my gaze for a fraction of a second and looked away.

“No. I could very well be your prisoner. Easy to command. Send away, and drag back when you so please.”

I let the accusation hang.

Making up excuses or explaining myself has never been my forte. I was not an easy man to deal with. Neither was Madelyn easy to figure out. She always made the wrong choices, which always ended in disaster. Just like nine years ago. And five years ago.

But maybe, in some ways, she wasn't wrong.

The front door clicked open, and the sound of Julia's heels struck the marble.

“I hope you guys are ready? Jet's up and running. We have to be in the air in the next ten minutes. I already coordinated with Vance's assistant. I’ve arranged seating with the Bomer family in the private wing. Press will be minimal. I’ll handle statements.”

Madelyn didn’t move. Neither did I.

Julia glanced at her, then back at me. She took a few steps closer and rested a gentle hand on my arm, her voice softening.

 “Is there a problem?”

Madelyn tensed. Her gaze dropped to the hand Julia rested lightly on my arm. When Julia didn't move it, Madelyn's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“No problem,” I said, pulling my hands from my pockets and brushing Julia's hand off. “Tell the pilot we're on schedule.”

Julia lingered looking between us. “Okay.”

She was about to take a step, then Madelyn spoke.

“No. We're not. Tell the pilot that he's only going to be flying two passengers.”