At one in the afternoon Jillian sat on the deck of her small second-floor apartment with a glass of iced tea. She was too nervous to eat any lunch. She wondered if she’d made a colossal mistake, but she knew she wouldn’t back out now. The plan was in motion.
Quinton was at her door at eight this morning. The minute she’d told him she’d marry him to save his department stores, he got on the phone and instructed his attorney to send regrets to the other two applicants and to pay all the bills they’d discovered Jillian owed. He also told him to handle the lease on the apartment and to make sure any unforeseen things that came up were taken care of.
He then told her to take the morning and go to her friend’s boutique, and any other store she wanted, to buy several outfits to take with her to Las Vegas, where he said they’d marry this evening. He gave her a credit card with an astronomical limit and said he’d be back shortly after lunch. He even offered her the limo, but she said she knew where she wanted to go and she’d drive her own car, though it was ten years old.
Jillian dressed and headed to town before the stores opened. Her first stop was Fran’s place. She let herself in with a key and started selecting items before Fran arrived.
“What’s going on?” Fran came in and looked at the stack of lingerie and other clothes Jillian had placed on the counter.
“I’m buying some things, Fran. I’m getting married and I need them.”
“Married. Who the hell are you marrying?” Fran looked stunned.
“You haven’t met him.” She held up a pair of slacks. “Do you think these will be all right to wear on the plane?”
“Where are you going on a plane?”
“I’m eloping to Las Vegas.”
“So, who are you eloping with?” Fran continued to stare at her friend. “And why haven’t I heard about him before now?”
“I had to keep it a secret, Fran.”
“Why? You and I have shared secrets ever since tenth grade.”
“I know, but this time I thought it better to wait and tell you. Now how about the slacks? Are they okay and what should I get to wear with them?”
“They’re okay, but the beige silk ones over here are prettier. They won’t wrinkle like the linen ones.” She pulled a peach colored cashmere sweater from the rack. “This will be beautiful with them and it would be good for a plane ride. Now that we have the outfit selected, tell me about this man you’re going to marry.”
Jillian was glad when Mrs. Miller, the trouble maker, came into the shop. Fran had to pause in her questioning to wait on her.
Pulling the dresses she’d only dreamed about buying, Jillian wondered how many she should get. She settled on four plus the red one she’d worn the night before and put them on the stack of lingerie and casual wear she’d already chosen. She selected three pairs of shoes and some accessories. Fran came out of the dressing room and Jillian handed her the credit card and smiled.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Fran whispered as she added up the stack of clothes and ran the card.
“I’ll tell you all about this later.”
“I want to know now.”
“I can’t tell you, Fran. But trust me. This is a wonderful thing.” Jillian wasn’t sure if it was or not, but she was going to try to believe it was.
Fran gave her a sarcastic look. “Don’t you want a set of that designer luggage over there to put your new clothes in?”
Jillian didn’t take offense. She knew Fran was only acting this way because she wasn’t getting the information she wanted. Turning, she glanced at the luggage. “You know, you’re right, Fran. I do need luggage. I’ll take it in teal.”
“Jillian, where is this money coming from? Last week I had to give you an advance to pay your light bill.”
“Then think of it as hitting the jack pot.”
“Did you win the lottery?”
“No, Fran. I didn’t win the state lottery, but in another way, I’ve hit a jackpot.”
“I don’t understand.” When Jillian didn’t answer, Fran went on, saying, “You’ve spent several thousand dollars here. Are you sure this card can handle it?”
“Has it been approved?”
The approval came across. “It has,” Fran snapped. “If Mrs. Miller wasn’t in the dressing room, I’d close this store and get the truth out of you.”
“You take care of Mrs. Miller, my friend, and I’ll be in touch soon.” Jillian took her packages and smiled at her friend. “By the way, thanks for keeping me working here as much as you could. I appreciate everything you did, though I know you didn’t need me. You’re a good person, Fran, but you’re a better friend.”
Before Fran could say anything, Jillian went out the door.
The next and last stop on her shopping trip had been Kincade’s. She decided if she was going to marry the owner, her wedding dress should come from there. She found a lovely yellow dress which fitted her perfectly and flattered her figure. It also brought out the highlights in her naturally blonde hair. She almost chuckled to herself when she realized she hoped he’d like it, as if it would matter to him. All he wanted was a woman his father thought was fit to be the next Mrs. Kincade. Quinton didn’t care what she wore or what she looked like in it. This was a business deal to him. Nothing more.
The doorbell rang pulling Jillian from her thoughts and she got up from the wicker chair on the back balcony. She put her iced tea glass in the sink and crossed the small apartment living area. She opened the door expecting to see Quinton.
“Hello, Ms. Lockland,” John Von Cannon said with a smile.
She nodded to him as a man in a chauffeur’s uniform walked up. “This is Calvin, your driver.”
Calvin tipped his hat to Jillian, mumbled a greeting then moved into the living room, not giving her time to greet him. He picked up the luggage and went out the door.
“I came to make sure you have everything you need.” John was still smiling.
“I think I do. I left the title to my car so you could sell it, as you instructed. It’s in the box on the counter with all my other papers.”
“Very good. I’ll make sure everything is handled properly.” He smiled again. “Thank you, Ms. Lockland. Quinton is very pleased, and I know it’s going to work out well for everyone involved.”
“I hope you’re right, Mr. Von Cannon.”
“Please, call me John. I’ll now become your lawyer as well as Quinton’s.” She nodded and he went on, saying, “Did you tag the things you want sent to the estate?”
“I did. There wasn’t much. I mainly want the few pieces which belonged to my mother and my grandmother.”
“I’ll see that they arrive there in perfect condition. I’ll also get the rest of your clothes packed and sent to you. You don’t have a thing to worry about.”
“Thank you.”
He held out his hand. “Good luck, Jillian. May I call you Jillian?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Next time I see you, you’ll be Mrs. Kincade. I’m looking forward to the new relationship.”
Jillian thought he held her hand a little too long, so she pulled it away. She handed him the keys to her apartment. “Goodbye, John.”
“Goodbye, Jillian. Have a wonderful honeymoon.”
She went down the flight of steps leading from the second floor apartment and headed to the waiting limo. The driver immediately opened the back door for her.
She was surprised to see Quinton inside. He wore a pair of reading glasses on the end of his nose and was studying the screen of his laptop computer. He glanced at her and nodded.
As she got into the car she saw several people watching the big black limo from their patios and balconies. She would’ve waved to them, but the limo’s windows were tinted.