A Beautiful Lie (Playing with Fire #1)(42)

Garrett had no idea Parker was coming to the Dominican until they were getting ready to leave. Parker didn’t understand how he could have possibly had the ring with him―the ring that reminded her of her mother, the ring she adored, and the one that Parker felt was meant just for her.

Before Parker had a chance to wonder further about the ring, they were at the front of the line and Garrett was making the introductions.

“Good evening, Mr. President,” Garrett greeted as he shook the man’s hand. “My name is Garrett Miller and this is my wife, Anna,” Garrett gestured towards Parker.

Her heart skipped a beat with how easily the word “wife” rolled off his tongue and felt a warmth in her belly at how natural it sounded to her.

“We’re with Fox News. Thank you so much for the invitation,” Garrett said graciously.

Fernandez nodded his head at Garrett and then turned to Parker, taking her hands in his as she placed a kiss to each of his cheeks.

Parker knew the protocol and remained quiet while Garrett and the President spoke. As a woman, she was there as eye candy for the most part. She had to tone down her take-charge attitude and pushy nature when she was in the company of this man and the people who worked for him.

“It’s a pleasure to have you in my home,” Fernandez spoke in beautifully accented English. “And may I say, Mr. Miller, your wife is a stunning creature.”

Parker smiled in appreciation, allowing Garrett to accept the compliment for her.

“Thank you, sir. I’m a lucky man,” Garrett said with a smile as he slid his hand across Parker’s lower back and pulled her close to his side.

“Allow me to introduce you to my wife, Margarita,” Fernandez said as he gestured to the beautiful, dark-haired woman in her mid-forties standing next to him. “I apologize, but my wife does not speak English.”

Fernandez turned to his wife and spoke in rapid Spanish, introducing Garrett and Parker.

“Gracias por invitarnos,” Parker spoke softly to the woman, thanking her for the invitation.

“Please, follow the other guests down the hall to the elevator. It will take you to the third floor ballroom and dining area. Help yourselves to drinks before dinner begins,” Fernandez instructed them with a smile.

As Garrett and Parker walked away and followed another couple down the hall, Parker leaned in towards Garrett and spoke softly.

“You notice how his wife barely looked us in the eye and never spoke?”

Garrett nodded his head.

“Fernandez is very protective of her,” Parker whispered. “She’s twenty-years his junior and according to our intel, showed up one day out of the blue fifteen years ago as his wife. No one had ever heard of her before and there were rumors she was a prostitute. Nothing could ever be confirmed though.”

Parker stopped talking as they got on the elevator with the other couple. Everyone smiled and nodded politely at one another as the doors closed.

Garrett hadn’t removed his hand from Parker’s hip and pretended not to notice that it was still there resting dangerously close to the curve of her behind. .

They stepped off of the elevator into the largest ballroom they had ever set eyes on. A guard standing by the elevator pointed them in the direction of the bar where several other guests had gathered.

“So Fernandez marries a hooker and turns her into the First Lady? That doesn’t explain why she doesn’t speak though. Shouldn’t he have molded her into a typical First Lady so she could assist him with campaigns and policies and do a little public speaking on the side?” Garrett asked quietly.

Parker shrugged.

“You would think so. That’s typically what other presidents have done who married outside of their social circle. Margarita is never seen in public and the only time anyone is permitted to meet her is during a dinner like this one. She’s never given an interview alone or with the president for that matter. The only thing anyone knows about her is what Fernandez has told them. On paper, Margarita didn’t exist before she became his wife,” Parker explained as they approached the bar.

Garrett grabbed them each a glass of champagne, and they made their way to the other end of the room, walking through one of the red curtained doorways and into a more intimate dining room, intimate at least in palace standards considering the size of the place.

A long table that seated forty ran the length of the room and was covered in a white table cloth. The ceiling above the table was arched and Garrett assumed was where the dome on top of the building was located. There were ornate, crystal chandeliers hanging down from the ceiling every few feet throughout the room. Everywhere you looked there was gold, artwork, and lavishness.

Most of the guests were already seated so Garrett and Parker had no trouble finding their place cards. Garrett pulled out Parker’s chair for her and took his seat next to her once she was situated.

The President and his wife made their entrance a few minutes later and the wait staff began bringing out the first course. Luckily, Garrett and Parker were seated directly across from Fernandez.

Everyone made small talk for a while, getting to know one another.

Between the first and second course, Fernandez was in a deep, quiet discussion with his Vice President seated next to him. Garrett was waiting for a break in the conversation and was beginning to get impatient. He just wanted to ask the guy a few questions. They were here for an interview; Fernandez knew that. Garrett couldn’t figure out why in the hell he’d invited them to a huge dinner with a ton of people for something like that.