Page 90 of His to Love
Despite the paparazzi and media that followed my every move, Simone allowed me to return to work after things calmed down post-indictment.
I could have kissed her.
I might have and just didn’t remember. I was certain that the media fallout would turn her away from me, but so far, she’d been loyal to me and had even brought me on full-time with pay that was more generous than I could have asked for.
Now, I spent my days going to work, busting my ass to continue to keep DPA the top event planner in the city. At night, I returned to my beautiful apartment, only to open a bottle of wine and spend the few remaining hours alone.
With the exception of Thursday night—girls’ night out.
Chelsea, Suzanne, Paige, and Camden had also stood by me, proving that people could be truly genuine. They didn’t pry—often. They had even avoided going to the Fireside Grill because they knew I didn’t want to see Declan or risk running into Tyson. That was, until this particular night.
They insisted I went with them.
Based on the string of texts I had received all day long from all four of them, the last one being from Chelsea insisting they would force me there, hog-tied and handcuffed if they had to, I wasn’t getting out of it.
One Galecki in handcuffs in my lifetime was plenty, thankyouverymuch.
Me: I’m beginning to think you’re not really friends. Just terrorists in skirts.
Chelsea: As long as you’re there.
I sighed and quickly typed out my response that I would meet them at Fireside at seven. I had to get used to the idea of possibly seeing Tyson anyway, and, after three months, the girls were right. It was time to stop wallowing and hiding. It had been three months without a word from him. There was a chance he’d not only moved on by then, but moved away, too. If he was only brought back to Detroit to take down my family, then he had clearly succeeded and he could go back to his real home.
I’d had one visit with my father in jail where he simply told me that while he’d been brought low, there were enough people in his organization remaining who would ensure that what he had created in Detroit would continue.
My lip curled in disgust and I walked away.
I didn’t plan on ever seeing him again.
Brushing the thought of him out of my mind, I dropped my phone into my purse and began shutting down my computer.
“Simone,” I called out as I hitched my purse over my shoulder and rounded the corner of my desk. “I’m outta here.”
“Come here a second,” she replied from deep in her office.
I found her sitting on the floor by her couch, her lap buried in lookbooks of different floral arrangements. When she saw me, she blew a stray strand of blond hair out of her eyes.
“You’ve done it,” she said, and my spine stiffened.
My eyebrows knitted together and I leaned against her doorway. “Done what?”
Her grin stretched wide. “You’ve landed the governor’s daughter’s wedding account.”
My eyes bugged out of my head and I walked into her office. “Are you serious?”
I had feared that when I stayed on with Simone full-time that the messiness surrounding the downfall of the Galecki name would cause blowback for her agency. Apparently, people truly cared enough about my mom to be able to look past it.
“Yup.” She nodded, set a half dozen thick binders on the floor, and pushed to her feet. “Melinda called me just a few hours ago. Said she got engaged last week and wants you to plan her wedding.”
“You,” I clarified.
She shook her head. “Nope. Melinda has been so impressed with you that she insists she doesn’t want anyone else handling her wedding except Gabriella Blue.”
My lips twitched with a smile at the name. I had legally dropped Galecki from my name, just days after the last visit to my father. Then I mailed him the paperwork to show him I wanted absolutely nothing to do with him again. I almost chose my mother’s maiden name as my new last name, but decided against it.
“Wow.” I was stunned the governor’s daughter would ask this of Simone. I still wasn’t even a planner…just an assistant. “Have you set up an appointment with her or anything?” I asked, my gears already turning.
“I have. It’s next week, but before you do that, there are a few other things I need you to handle tomorrow.”
