“I thought we were going to have sex before dinner got here.” I pull my shirt over my head, tossing it away. “You think my boobs are bigger yet?” I know that this is the only way to distract him.
“I know what you’re doing.” In one quick motion he has my bra undone.
“Trying to be ravished by my husband?”
He pins me to the sofa, doing exactly that. Letting me get away with distracting him. I’ll tell him another day. For now I just want to enjoy this moment.
Chapter 21
Constantine
“This is quite the find, Frances.” I tilt the tiara toward the light and watch as the diamonds catch fire.
“I know.” The slender man taps his fingers together in glee. “I wasn’t aware it existed until the seller contacted me. Tiaras are a rare piece of jewelry in a set. I think we can assume that the collection once belonged to someone from a royal lineage, which would make the value of the entire set so much higher.”
There’s a slight wistfulness in his tone. He has some regret about how cheaply he sold the original pieces to me and I suspect I’m going to be paying a premium for this, but he and I both know that I can’t walk away.
“The charity ball is only a few days away,” he says needlessly.
Abigail’s dress arrived at the house yesterday. I was a little surprised she didn’t try it on. She wasn’t interested, but she did just discover she was pregnant. Plus, she was busy with contractors and decorators. We are making our sitting room into a nursery.
“Don’t make me too miserable with the price, Frances. I’ll need some money left over for a birthday gift.” I place the tiara onto the velvet mat.
Frances trills a fake laugh. “I am only interested in fairness.”
My wallet is definitely lighter when I leave the jeweler’s but my heart’s full. I can’t wait to see Abigail all decked out in the dress and the jewels. Everything’s working out perfectly for us. Teddy’s gone. Abigail’s pregnant. I just bought my amazing wife a king’s ransom in gems and pearls.
Back at my office, I hunker down to do some work. I’m two hours into contract negotiations with a firm out west when I get interrupted by a bank call.
“I’m so sorry to be calling you like this, Mr. Weathers, but a rather large check to a contractor needs to be processed today and your wife’s account is a tad short,” says the manager.
I take a sip of my coffee and bring up Abigail’s account on my computer. “What are you talking about? She has millions in there.” Then I remember. She used her rainy day fund to buy into the grocery store. “Damn. I meant to transfer some funds. Can you do that for me? Take it out of the sub account B. There’s plenty there. I’ll liquidate some bonds tomorrow and fill it up again.”
“Of course. That is no problem. We just needed your authorization.”
That’s done. I hope they didn’t call Abigail. She’d be embarrassed and worried for no reason. I decide to close up shop for the day and go home. I want to make sure she’s doing okay. Plus, the tiara should be delivered so she can do a full dress rehearsal.
When I arrive home, I head straight for the fourth floor where our master bedroom is situated. The place is quiet so all the tradesmen and women must’ve left for the day, but Abigail is nowhere to be found. The bedroom is empty and the sitting room is as well. There are drop cloths covering the wood floor and long strips of molding piled to the side. Curtains are down and the room is taped off for painting.
I press the intercom in the hallway. “Is Abigail in the kitchen?” I ask our chef slash housekeeper.
“No sir,” is the immediate reply.
I frown and take out my phone.
I’m home baby. Where are you?
There’s no response. I tuck my phone away and double check the master. Maybe she’s in the bathroom or the dressing room, but both are empty. A large gray box with white trim and black velvet bindings sits on the middle of the island in the dressing room. The elaborate F & D is a giveaway where the box came from. I lift it to see if the tiara is inside but the box is empty.
I grab my phone and am about to call emergency services when a text from Abigail comes through.
Just sitting on the roof.
Thank God. I was ready to call the cops. You got the tiara?
Again, there’s no immediate response. Does she hate it? It is a little over the top, but she’s Abigail Weathers. If there was anyone who could get away with wearing a getup like that, it’s her. Next year, everyone will be sporting a crown.