King's Passion. Adrianne Byrd

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King's Passion - Adrianne Byrd


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lastly the private pool. No Marcus.

      “I don’t know what to tell you guys,” Eamon said. “He’s not here. Maybe he went and got breakfast.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. After a couple of rings, he reached Johnson’s Cleaning Crew on the line. “Hey, it’s Eamon. Can you go ahead and send your guys on over to the Henderson suite? Yeah.” He glanced around again and spotted the goat still roaming around. “Wait. Actually, wait an extra hour. I need to call animal control first.”

      The moment he disconnected the call, the villa’s front door opened and in walked Marcus Henderson, smiling and gushing at…Delicious. “Good morning, everybody,” he said with a goofy smile.

      The rest of his friends started peeling themselves off the floor while most of the women were making a beeline to the bathroom.

      “Where have you been?” Robert asked.

      Another guy in the villa, smiled just as broadly. “Everyone, gather around. Marcus has an announcement to make,” he broadcasted like he was the King of England or something.

      Intrigued, Eamon folded his arms and wondered why Delicious—a.k.a Michelle—was bouncing around and holding Marcus’s hand, but he had a suspicion that he wasn’t going to like it.

      It took a few seconds, but everyone gathered around and waited.

      “All right, Marcus,” the man said. “The floor is all yours.”

      “Thank you, Kent.” Marcus smiled at Michelle, squeezed her hand and said, “First, I want to thank you all for giving me a wonderful bachelor party. I’ve never had anything like it.”

      The small crowd clapped and Eamon was pleased that he had indeed pulled off another successful party.

      “However,” Marcus continued and then started gushing as much as the woman beside him. “There’s been a change in plans…or rather…a change in brides.”

      “Please no,” Eamon moaned, filling in the blanks a second before Marcus held up Michelle’s hand and announced, “Delicious and I just got married!”

      Eamon groaned. “Oh God.”

      “Ladies and gentlemen, may I please have your attention?” Mondell Gregory announced in the center of the Waldorf’s Park Avenue lobby. Three hundred sets of eyes zoomed to the larger-than-life man with rapt attention. He took a deep breath and with his head held high he continued. “First of all, I want to thank you all for coming today, but I regret to inform you that the wedding has been called off.”

      As expected there was a collective gasp followed by a low, steady murmur as most of the invited guests turned to one another to express their surprise.

      “However, since we are all here and since we have a mountain of food and good music arranged for you, I don’t see why we can’t just turn this into an old-fashioned brunch party and take pleasure in one another’s company.” He held up his glass of champagne, though he wished that it was something stronger. “Enjoy!” Mondell nodded his head and then downed his drink in one gulp.

      Plastering on a smile, he strolled briskly back out of the grand ballroom, ignoring a few questions being thrown at him as he passed. “How did I do?” he asked his wife, Celya, once he exited the room.

      “Great. Given the circumstance,” she answered as she began the difficult task of trying to keep up with his long strides. “What do you think has happened?”

      He took an impatient breath and then shook his head. “He better be lying in someone’s hospital bed. That’s all I know. If not, he’s going to be once I get my hands on him.”

      Celya didn’t like the sound of that. Instead of enjoying her daughter starting a new chapter in her life today, it looked like she was going to have her hands full trying to calm and soothe two people. That meant a full plate when dealing with her husband and daughter. They were too much alike when it came to temperament. If Marcus was smart, he’d forget that the whole state of New York even existed, because if he ever came back, it would be to attend his own funeral.

      When they returned to Victoria’s suite, they found her exactly where they left her. Sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at her cell phone as if willing it to ring. Grace hovered around closely, though it was clear they were also at a loss as to what to say. No one saw this coming. Marcus Henderson seemed as dependable as they came.

      Mondell swore under his breath. He didn’t like seeing his daughter looking so distraught and it was clear that it was eating him up inside.

      “Is it done?” she asked without looking back at them.

      Celya instantly went to her side. “Yes, sweetheart. Your father took care of everything.” She squeezed her daughter’s shoulders.

      Exhaling a long sigh, Victoria leaned over and rested her head on Celya’s shoulders. “Did they laugh?”

      “Of course they didn’t laugh!” Mondell thundered. “They wouldn’t dare.”

      Victoria closed her eyes. No doubt her father truly believed that, but she knew better. Right now, it was just three hundred people. By tomorrow, it will be all of New York when the news hit Page Six. Then again, maybe the whole world was already twittering and Facebooking about the whole debacle.

      “It looks like I really know how to pick them,” she moaned.

      “Oh, sweetheart.” Her mother delivered another squeeze. “Please don’t beat yourself up over this.”

      Well who else was there? Marcus? Hell. She didn’t even know where he was.

      Her cell phone rang and vibrated on the nightstand.

      Victoria’s head popped up off her mother’s shoulder and she stared blankly at the phone.

      “I’ll answer it,” her father said, moving in to swipe up the phone.

      But the idea of him tearing a chunk out of Marcus’s hide before she had a chance didn’t set well. “No! I’ll handle this.” She seized the phone from her father’s hands and ignored the disappointment written on his face.

      “Hello,” she answered coolly.

      “Uh…Vicki?”

      Victoria pulled the phone away from her face and frowned at it. No one called her Vicki. No. One. Rocking her neck from side to side, she cracked a few stiff bones in her neck and then placed the phone back up against her ear. “Marcus, where in the hell are you?”

      “I’m still in Las Vegas.”

      “Did you miss your flight? Did you forget that we were supposed to be getting married?” Her voice rose with every question. “How about, did you forget that we have over three hundred people here—waiting?!”

      The phone line fell silent.

      “Marcus?!”

      “Um…no.” Marcus cleared his throat. “I didn’t forget. That’s sort of why I’m calling. I, uh, I’m not going to be able to, um, marry you.”

      This time, she let the phone go silent.

      “Vicki?”

      “What is it with this Vicki crap?” she snapped. “Stop calling me that.”

      “Oh. Sorry.”

      “And what do you mean you can’t marry me? Do you know how much has gone into this wedding? The time? The money?” She started pacing back and forth, wishing that he was actually there so that she could wrap her hands around his neck and squeeze it until his eyeballs popped out.

      “Yeah. I’m sorry about that. But, you see, I met this wonderful woman out here and…well…we got married last night.”

      Victoria stopped pacing and, once again, the phone line went silent.

      “Vicki—I mean, Victoria? Are you there?”


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