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Chapter Seven

"Sorry?" I looked at Andrew in bewilderment. "Sorry about what?"

His lips tightened, his jaw and gaze harder than I'd ever seen them. "Who would do this?" he demanded.

"Someone who doesn't like us."

"Who doesn't like us?" he asked in bemusement.

I thought about all the people who'd given me a bad vibe the past two days and that included Harper and Jamie, who both had keys to the suite. But so did a lot of other people.

Jeanette had a key, Taylor and Carrie, the photographers and videographer, Megan…

Who knew who else had come and gone from this suite during the day? I hadn't been here in hours, not since we'd left for the ceremony.

"Lauren? Is something going on I don't know about?" Andrew asked, as if I were keeping some secret from him.

My eyes widened at his question. "You're asking me that?"

"Well, yeah. I don't know anyone who's pissed off at me. Is someone angry with you?"

I thought about that. "I can't imagine anyone doing this."

"What about Harper or Jamie? They seem like they've been needling you the last two days. I get that Harper is naturally sarcastic, but she's been even sharper than usual."

"They wouldn't have trashed my bridal suite. They're my friends. They might be a little jealous of all the attention I've been getting, but they've been supporting me the past two days." I paused. "However, there is someone who doesn't seem happy about our marriage, and that's your friend, Allison." I hadn't wanted to talk about her tonight. I'd wanted us to have the perfect intimate wedding night, but that dream was dead now.

"That's ridiculous." He sent me an irritated look. "I told you. Allison and I are friends. We work together."

"But you dated her, didn't you? You weren't always just friends."

"We didn't date," he said, running an angry hand through his golden-blond hair. "We hooked up twice. It was over a year ago, and it didn't mean anything."

My heart sank as he finally told me the truth. "Maybe Allison thought it meant something. Why did you invite her to our wedding if the two of you have a past? It's inappropriate."

"It was a long time ago, and she's a valuable work associate. I didn't feel it was right to leave her out."

"You were with her earlier today at Victor's villa. What were you doing there together?"

"Were you spying on me?" he asked in surprise.

"No. I was coming back from my run. I saw you walk out of the villa with Allison, Victor, and Paula. It seemed very odd that the two of you would have been with the Carringtons and that you never mentioned it to me."

"I haven't had two minutes alone with you all day to talk about anything. Allison wanted to pitch her design services for the villas that are still being constructed on the hillside. She asked me to introduce her to Victor, and that's what I did. It wasn't a big deal."

"Is she going to get the job?"

"Victor is interested in her work. She's going to stay a few days and work up some sketches for him. He said he'd take a look."

I frowned at the thought of Allison staying longer on the island. "I don't get it. Carrington Resorts works with established designers, and the company that has been decorating this resort has done excellent work. Why would Victor want to bring in someone new for the last few villas?"

"He wants each villa to be unique, and having a different designer might accomplish that. Look, I don't know why this bothers you, Lauren, but we have more pressing things to worry about. I'm going to call the front desk and get security up here."

"Andrew, wait."

"What?"

At his demanding look, I found myself not sure what I wanted to say. I felt confused by everything that was happening, including our conversation about Allison, which didn't feel at all resolved. But he was right. We did have bigger problems to worry about. "Nothing. Just call security."

He moved to the phone by the bed and picked it up. I walked toward the dresser and felt my heart sink as I saw the lid on the small jewelry box my mother had given me had been ripped off.

"I can't believe they broke this," I muttered, picking up the lid and remembering my twenty-first birthday when my mother had given me the small opal ring I wore on my right-hand ring finger. It had come in this small jewelry box, and it had been the most expensive present she'd ever given me.

Tears filled my eyes, and I tried to blink them away. I hadn't cried in a long time, and I didn't want to start now. This was my wedding night, and I couldn't let someone's destructive anger ruin it. But I felt very alone, and that was the scariest feeling, because I hadn't felt this alone since I'd met Andrew. He had driven all that hollow emptiness away. Now it was back.

That made me angry. It shouldn't be back. I was married. This was supposed to be the best day of my life.

Andrew came up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. "Is that your jewelry box?"

I nodded, still too choked up to speak.

"I'm sorry, Lauren. I know how much that means to you. We'll get it repaired. And they didn't get the ring, so that’s good."

"I guess." I set the broken box down on the dresser as he turned me around to face him.

"We'll figure out who did this," he assured me.

"Does it even matter?" I asked wearily.

"Of course it matters."

"I doubt they stole anything. This was about ruining our wedding night."

"Or ruining the best suite in the resort," he suggested. "Maybe there was damage done to other rooms that we don't know about."

"Did security tell you that?"

"No, but they're sending up the director of security, Martin Demora."

I knew Martin. He'd worked at the hotel in Newport Beach for the past year before being assigned here. He was a smart man, and he had years of experience in hotel security, having worked for other chains before coming to the Carrington Group. "Even if he figures out who did this, it won't change what happened. We can't get this night back."

"This night isn't over. We'll talk to Martin and then we'll move to another suite. There are plenty of open rooms. We'll catch our breath and regroup. It doesn't have to be ruined, Lauren."

I usually appreciated his positive outlook, but I was too exhausted to buy into it now. "It is ruined, Andrew. And whoever did this was probably hoping that would be the result."

"Well, we can choose to not let them win."

"What are you talking about? We've already lost."

"With that attitude, yes."

"Sorry if you don't like my attitude, but it is what it is. And I still think this looks like the work of a scorned woman."

He frowned but before he could say anything, the doorbell rang. I followed him into the living room. He opened the door to Martin Demora, a stocky, weathered Italian man in his late forties. To my surprise, Martin was followed into the suite by Ethan Stark.

"This is Mr. Stark," Martin said. "He's overseeing the security of Victor's personal property, and he was with me when you called, so I thought he might help."

"Whatever works," Andrew said. "Let me show you the bedroom."

As Andrew took Martin into the bedroom, Ethan gave the room a long look and then turned to me. I crossed my arms in front of me, always feeling defensive around Ethan, even when I was the victim, which I was now. Just like I'd been in the fire.

"Any idea who might have done this?" Ethan asked.

"Not a clue."

"Someone was angry. They wanted to make a point. Martin said there's a message on the wall of the bedroom."

"You can look at it yourself. But all it says is You'll be sorry ."

"Sorry for what?"

"I have no idea."

"It could be referencing your wedding. In fact, it looks like it could be the work of a scorned ex-girlfriend."

"Andrew doesn't believe Allison is upset about our wedding. He says they are friends, and they work together, and whatever was between them was over a year ago."

"You talked to him about it?"

"Yes. I talked to him," I snapped. "He's my husband."

"Hell of a thing to happen on your wedding night."

"There must be security footage in the hallway, on the elevator, right?"

"The security system was being worked on before the grand opening. Martin doesn’t believe any of the cameras in this area were online."

"Great. So there might not be any footage?"

"We'll find out. I'm going to check the bedroom."

"You don't really need to be here, do you?"

I blew out a breath as he left and hugged my arms around my body, feeling cold and in shock, my anxiety deepening as I took in every horrible, destructive detail in the room. I could feel the anger behind the vandalism, and that was more than a little disturbing.

Who could do this hateful thing?

That question was still running around my head when the men returned to the living room.

"Andrew told me that quite a few people had keys to the suite today," Martin said. "I've asked the front desk clerk to bring you a key to another suite. She should be here any—" He paused as a knock came at the door. "That's probably her." He opened the door to a young woman in her twenties, whom I'd met earlier. "Gabby, thanks for coming so quickly."

"Oh, wow." Gabby's eyes widened when she saw the condition of the suite. "This is bad."

"Yes," Martin said crisply. "Which is why we need to move Mr. and Mrs. Chadwick into another suite."

"I have the key for one of our executive suites upstairs. We only had one room ready to go. I hope it will work." She handed Andrew two keycards.

"I'm sure the room will be fine," Andrew said.

"Greg is going to come up and help you with your luggage," Gabby added. "What else can we do? Do you want any food, snacks, or chocolates sent up?"

I shook my head at her question. "No food, but I'd love some bottled water."

"The fridge in the suite is stocked with non-alcoholic drinks," she replied.

"Do you two need any more help?" Martin asked. "If not, I'll start investigating what happened here."

"Please do," Andrew said. "We'll grab our things and head upstairs."

"If you have any further issues, please call me personally," Martin added. "You have my card. Otherwise, we'll touch base in the morning. Good night."

"Good night," I muttered as Martin and Ethan left.

Andrew turned to me. "I don’t have anything to move. My suitcases are in the villa I stayed in last night. I was going to get them tomorrow." He gave me a somewhat sad smile. "I wasn't thinking I needed my clothes tonight."

I tried to smile but I fell short, and I didn't have the energy to try again. Instead, I said, "My bags were unpacked earlier. Everything is in the closet."

"I'll help you pack and then we can get out of here."

I wished I could just walk out the door, but I didn't want to leave my things here, not knowing if whoever had the key might come back, although that was unlikely. They'd done what they wanted to do. And if they had wanted to steal something, that would have already happened. Not that I had much to steal. I was wearing the ring my mother had given me, and the necklace Paula had loaned me for the wedding was still around my neck. Those were the only pieces of jewelry worth stealing.

But this hadn't been about theft. I just didn't know what the true motive was.

It took us about fifteen minutes to pack. While we were gathering my clothes together, I changed out of my dress and heels into leggings, a sweater, and sneakers. It wasn't the sexy lingerie I'd bought for my wedding night, but I felt more like myself again.

Andrew tried to lighten the mood with a few dark jokes, but I couldn't drum up a laugh, so he stopped trying. When we were done packing, the bellman helped us take my bags up to the new suite, which was on the floor above us and in a different wing.

It was also a lovely one-bedroom, but far more neutral and minimalistic in décor. Definitely not the romantic, dreamy decadent luxury of the bridal suite, but it was clean, and everything was in its place, which eased my stress.

After the bellman left, I hung my wedding dress in the closet, put the necklace Paula had lent me back in its velvet box, and placed it in the drawer next to the bed. I'd return that to her tomorrow.

"So," Andrew said as he came around the bed and put his hands on my waist. "Should we start over?"

"Where would that be?" I asked with a heavy sigh.

"How about when I picked you up and carried you over the threshold? We could do it again."

I shook my head. "I don't think so, Andrew."

"We can salvage tonight, Lauren. We just have to try."

"You mean I have to try."

"Well…yes," he said, gazing into my eyes. "There's nothing we can do about what happened downstairs."

"I feel so violated. Someone wanted to hurt us, to scare us. Doesn't that bother you?"

"I'm not going to be scared by some message written on a wall. I don't think you should be, either. Whoever trashed our room was a coward. And letting them ruin our wedding night only means they win. I don't want to be sorry. I want them to be sorry their actions didn't work."

He had a point, but I was so damn tired. "I can't blow it off the way you can. I feel bad. And I'm emotionally and physically exhausted. It's been a crazy long day. I've tried to be whatever someone wanted me to be since we arrived on this island, and I can't do it anymore. I can't pretend I'm not upset."

"You're right. I'm asking too much."

"It's not you. I'm not mad at you, Andrew. You know that, right?" I needed him to understand that. "It's the whole situation."

He nodded. "I get it. I just don't want you to look back on our wedding day and night and think about this."

The memories of this day and night were never going to be a highlight, but I couldn't tell him that, because, clearly, he'd had a lot more fun than I had. And I didn't want to ruin his memories. None of this was his fault.

At least, I hoped it wasn't his fault.

I did still wonder about Allison. Had she been the one to sneak into the suite and trash it? But how would she have gotten the key?

Although, Andrew didn't seem to have his key. He said it was in the villa he'd stayed at last night. Allison had probably been in that villa since she was friends with all of them.

"Lauren?" he asked, a question in his gaze. "What are you thinking about?"

"Allison," I admitted.

He blew out a frustrated breath. "You need to stop worrying about her, Lauren. Allison had nothing to do with what happened."

"You don't know that for sure."

"Neither do you."

"It makes the most sense."

"How on earth does it make sense?" A mix of anger and incredulity ran through his eyes.

"Because you two were involved before you and I got together. She might still have feelings for you, and whoever destroyed our bridal suite did it out of anger. Since I didn't invite any of my exes to our wedding, she's the best suspect."

His lips tightened. "She wouldn't do this."

"Well, I don't know her, because you've never told me anything about her. And you should have told me you were inviting someone to our wedding with whom you'd had an…intimate relationship."

He let out a heavy sigh. "It wasn't a relationship. I honestly didn't think it mattered. And if you had wanted to invite an ex, I would have trusted your decision. Why don't you trust mine?"

"Because it feels like you kept a secret from me."

"I didn't consider it to be a secret. We've been together constantly the last six months. We've barely spent a night apart. Do you really believe I was having something with Allison while we've been together?"

"Well, no, but you still should have told me."

"Maybe I should have. But putting that aside, Harper is a better suspect than Allison. She's been bitching all weekend about one thing or another. And what about Jamie? She was pissed off when Jeanette kicked her out of the cake-cutting photo, and she stormed off. Who knows where she went?"

"She was back for the bouquet toss. There wasn't enough time for her to vandalize the suite."

"Maybe. Maybe not. We can speculate all night, but we're not going to get to an answer. Let's wait and see what Martin can find on the security cameras."

"It didn't sound like they were operational."

"Maybe some of them were. Hopefully, they can narrow it down to who might have come into the building during the hours in question. Whether we get an answer or not, it's over."

"Is it over? They said you'll be sorry . There could be something else coming."

"They just wanted to scare you." He paused, his lips tightening. "You know who we haven't talked about…"

I met his gaze. "Who?"

"Ethan Stark. Colin told me that you were yelling at him earlier. What did he say to you?"

"The same things he's been saying all along…that we're thieves, that he doesn't trust us."

"Us or me?"

"Both of us. But I have to admit he's suggested lately that I don't know everything about you. He was the one who told me about you and Allison. I hate that I had to find out she was your ex from a man who's trying to make us out to be criminals. It gave him an advantage."

"There's no advantage. Allison didn't stay with me at the conference. She had her own room, and, yes, we hugged outside one night when we said goodbye. It didn't mean anything. Ethan is trying to work you. Maybe he trashed the suite because he knew the cameras were off. Then he was quick to show up and blame Allison, giving you another reason not to trust her or me. Don't let him play you."

He had a point, and I didn't want to fight with him about Ethan. "I'd rather not talk to him at all, but he keeps showing up."

"I get it. Let's put all this aside. There's nothing more we can do tonight. There's a spa tub in the bathroom big enough for two. Why don't we fill it up and try to relax?"

He was trying to make the best of a bad situation, and his positive attitude was one of the things I loved most about him. I just didn't feel like being cheered up. Nor did I feel like taking a bath.

"I'm sorry, Andrew. I know you're doing everything you can to make this right, but I want to go to bed. Will you hate me if I ask if we can start over tomorrow?"

"Of course we can start over tomorrow, and I could never hate you. I love you. We've got the rest of our lives ahead of us, Lauren. This is a little blip."

"I'll feel better after I get some sleep."

"Why don't you get into bed then? I'm going to take a shower." He gave me a kiss, then went into the bathroom.

As I pulled back the covers and got into bed, I let out a sigh of relief as the soft mattress and pillows enveloped me. I felt a little guilty that I'd rebuffed Andrew's every effort to salvage our wedding night, but I was too exhausted to turn that thought into some sort of action.

I'd make it up to him tomorrow and the day after that. As he'd said, we had the rest of our lives. And in the morning, we could get back to being us.