“About?”
“Your grandfather might have provided you with an opportunity to usurp me, but that doesn’t mean you will be successful. I don’t plan on stepping down without a fight.”
“It’ll make my victory all the sweeter.”
He raises his glass of water. “Let the best Kane win.”
I tap mine to his. “He already did.”
“I need you to book a trip.” I stop at Iris’s desk. After spending the entire drive thinking over my father’s conversation, I came to one conclusion.
I need to commit to my role as a doting husband—honeymoon included.
Iris looks up from her desktop with a pinched expression. “To Tokyo?”
“No. Pick a place. Any place with running water and Wi-Fi.”
She looks around the room and under her desk.
“Searching for a hidden camera?”
The faintest smile crosses her lips. “Either that or a wiretap. Just to be clear, I have never nor will I ever take drugs. Whatever green substance you might find in my room is definitely Cal’s.”
“Funny,” I reply dryly.
“Do you ever laugh?” she asks.
“Only when I make people cry.”
Her face contorts as she slams a palm against her chest. “Cal is right. You are a monster.”
“A monster who expects you to have a honeymoon chosen by the end of the business day.”
“A honeymoon? Wow!” She looks far too excited about the prospect for my comfort.
“Don’t get any ideas. This is strictly for appearances.”
“Appearances?” Her grin is snuffed out.
“I’m positive that my father will do everything in his power to delegitimize our marriage. It is up to us to make his attempt futile.”
Her lips purse. “By going on a honeymoon? How is that going to solve anything?”
“It proves I care enough about you to take my first vacation in over a decade.”
She laughs. “You must live such a sad life if you think sacrificing work for a honeymoon is a declaration of your affection.”
“Is it not?” Did she not hear a word of anything I just said? I don’t take vacations. Doing so should silence any doubts about our relationship.
Wouldn’t it?
“No. It’s not.”
I grimace. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
Her eyes roll. “Sure. We can do things your way since you have so much experience when it comes to relationships.” She mumbles something about men always think they know everything under her breath.
I knock my fist against her desk. “Book the plane for Friday.”
“This Friday?”
“Is that going to be a problem?”
She squeals. “No! Even if it was, I refuse to let this golden opportunity go to waste. I haven’t had a vacation in years.”
“At least you finally get something good out of all of this.”
She slaps her desk with a stern look. “You mean there’s supposed to be something better than marrying you? I refuse to believe it.”
I turn and walk toward my door, hiding the grin spreading across my face.
Iris is the only person with the ability to make me smile. Not that she knows it. I’ve done everything in my power to hide how much sway she has over my moods.
16
IRIS
I f someone told me a month ago that Declan would hand me his black card and tell me to plan a honeymoon, I would have sent them to the nearest hospital to get their head checked. But low and behold, Declan does just that.
“Money is no object,” he says before disappearing behind his double doors.
I squeal as I spin around in my chair.
“Keep it down,” he calls out from the other side of the wood door.
I clamp down on my lips while I grab my cellphone and text Cal.
Me: Guess who is going on a honeymoon after all?
Cal: How did you make him crack?
Cal: Waterboarding?
Cal: Sleep deprivation?
Cal: Sex???
Cal: Wait. If it’s the last one, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.
I laugh as I type up my response.
Me: Your father.
Cal: *Pretends to be shocked.
Me: Do you want to help me plan something?
Cal: I’ll be there in 15.
.
“No.” I shove a dumpling into my mouth.
“But it’s Bora Bora,” Cal replies with an exasperated look.
I shake my head. “Sounds boring.” Good thing Cal can’t see the way my cheeks burn from the lie.
“What is wrong with you?”
More like what could be wrong with me if I were to choose a honeymoon location that would require Declan to walk around shirtless and wet all day long. Even I know my limits, and that is one of them. After the little show I got last time Declan was shirtless, it’s best we don’t test the waters.
Cal uses the computer mouse to scroll through the newspaper article recommending the Top Ten Honeymoon Spots in the World. “How about Maui?”
I scrunch my nose. “No.”
“Fiji?”
“Pass.”
“I swear, with the way you’re acting, it’s as if you don’t want to go on a honeymoon at all.”
“I do!” Just not anywhere that might require us to take our clothes off.
He stares me down. “What about South Africa?”
Huh. Now that is an idea…
“Tell me more.”
He looks absolutely horrified by my interest. “You can’t be serious. You would choose a safari over Bora Bora?”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not romantic.”
I frown. “This might be a honeymoon, but it isn’t meant to be romantic.”
“Clearly or else you would have chosen something else.”
The more Cal pushes me on it, the more I find the idea of going on a safari appealing. Nothing says hands off quite like bug spray, motion sickness, and watching animals devour each other. With a busy trip like that, the risk of Declan and I doing something stupid is slim to none.
I throw my napkin on the table and pat my distended belly. “That’s it.
We’re going to South Africa.”
Cal groans, and I smile.
Case solved.
Planning a trip to Africa at the last minute is stressful. I need to juggle Declan’s busy schedule, doctors’ appointments so we can get our shots, and calling safari lodges to see who has availability at the last minute. I do all this while working from nine to nine every single day.
Declan is absolutely useless when it comes to planning anything, so I’m stuck doing everything on my own. Flights. Travel itineraries. Sleeping arrangements. Everything falls on my shoulders since Declan doesn’t care where we go, so long as I post a few photos and make it seem like we are having a good time. His words. Not mine.
Because of his attitude, I don’t feel bad booking the most expensive safari lodge on our list. I even book a trip to the salon to get my hair braided—all on his personal card. That’s what he gets for being so cold and unfeeling about the whole process. The least he could have done was ask me if I needed any help. Or even thanked me for putting all this together at the last minute, all so he could prove to everyone how we are some happy couple.
It’s the smallest things that make people feel appreciated. Not that Declan cares.
I sigh as I stare out the car window.