Rhiannon murmured something noncommittal when he glanced in the rearview mirror, and she tugged at her leather jacket. She’d donned her nicest jeans and a T-shirt under the moto jacket.
It was a sign of how worried her mother was for her that she hadn’t said a single word criticizing her outfit choice.
Rhiannon walked into the mansion behind Gabe and her mom and almost turned around and walked back out. So. Many. People.
It wasn’t all bad. She greeted Gabe’s fiancée, and Eve hugged her extra tight. She embraced the Kane siblings, the grown-up children of her mother’s old employer, and for a moment, felt surrounded by familiarity and understanding.
They couldn’t stay with her forever, though. The rest of the party was a sea of curious faces. She met Gabe’s gaze. He glanced at their mother, who was busy talking to another guest, gave Rhiannon a discreet, understanding nod, and she was off.
She snagged a bottle of wine from the open bar before sneaking out a back door. The air was cool and calm on her face, cooler than she was used to back home.
Rhiannon kicked her flats off, picked them up, and made her way away from the house. Not into the dark forest, but toward the charming little white gazebo, surrounded by flowers peeking their heads out of the ground. This estate bordered the one she’d grown up on, and she knew it like the back of her hand.
Relief ran through her when she plopped down on the wooden bench and took a swig of her wine. This was better. For her and for Gabe and Eve, who deserved to be the focus of their own engagement party. She stretched out on the bench and placed her wine on the plank floor. Then she closed her eyes. Normally, she’d be all up in her phone, but it was locked in the back of Gabe’s trunk, turned off.
So she listened to the birds chirping and insects rubbing their little insect legs together and the party happening in the mansion close to her. They were all peaceful sounds, now that she wasn’t required to socialize.
Wait a minute. No phone. No demands. The sounds of nature. Was this . . . a vacation?
Yes. Yes it was. She was going to claim it as one and she was going to toss it at her mother and Katrina the next time they nagged at her about taking time off. There was no greater sign of a vacation than not having a phone.
In a few hours, she’d have to plug back in. She’d see how many messages she had. She’d see if one of those messages was from Samson.
What if there’s nothing?
Then . . . she’d contact him.
Peace spread through her, to the soundtrack of nature. She’d call him or text him, and she’d do it because she liked him and wanted to spend time with him, and she was so tired of shutting things down out of fear. Gabe was right. Trust was good and necessary.
“Um, hi. Sorry to bother you. Are you busy?”
“Yes. I’m on vacation,” she said, but opened her eyes. A familiar-looking woman in her midtwenties stood in the opening of the gazebo. She wore a pretty, long emerald-green skirt and a black blouse. A blue-and-green hijab covered her hair, tied in elaborate folds and tucks. Rhiannon rose up on her elbows, placing the girl the second she stepped inside the gazebo and the moonlight lit her face. “Are you Noor Ahmed’s sister?”
“Noor’s one of my older sisters, yes.”
Noor had been one of the few people in her school who had been relentlessly kind to her. Rhiannon waved at the other bench. “You can join me, then. Have a seat. Is your sister here?”
“No, she’s working. My other sisters are here, though.”
That’s right. There were five Ahmed sisters, each more brilliant than the next. The middle one was married to a Kane, which, in the convoluted mess of relationships that made up her brother’s life, made this girl kind of an in-law? “I’ll say hi to them later.”
The woman perched on the other bench and regarded Rhiannon with barely contained curiosity. “You’re Rhiannon Hunter. I’m Jia. We’ve met a few times.”
Yeah, they had, at various family events, though Jia was much younger than her, the baby of the Ahmed family. Rhiannon searched her memory. “You’re one of the twins. The beauty influencer.”
Jia’s pink lips curved. Her makeup was flawlessly applied, her skin airbrushed levels of smooth. Lakshmi would adore her on sight. “That’s one of my titles, yes.”
“What are you doing out here?” Rhiannon took a sip of wine and offered the bottle to Jia, but the younger woman declined.
“I saw you come out. I wanted to thank you.”
“Thank me for what?” she asked warily.
“For what you did on the show last night.”
Rhiannon blinked. “There’s no need to thank me for that.”
“There is.” Jia hesitated, glanced at the house, and then spoke in a rush. “It’s not easy to speak up. There was a professor, my first year of med school, who was always making excuses to stand right next to us. He’d touch our arms, our shoulders. He would say inappropriate things, invite us to meet with him privately. I complained, other women complained, and we were told to stop being so sensitive. When he started getting a little too close to my sister, I finally told my father—he teaches at the school—and he got the guy taken off faculty.”
“Good.”
Jia’s smile was faint. “That wasn’t a universal sentiment. There were people who were so angry with me and my dad, but I’m glad I did it.” She pleated her skirt between her fingers. “Not everyone has a father who can step in and help them. Not many people have a national platform, like you do.” She rose to her feet in a rustle of fabric. “I know you’re going to take flak for what you did and it’s not going to be easy for you and no one would have blamed you for staying silent. So thank you. That’s all I wanted to say. We all need to keep an eye out for each other when we have the ability to do so, I think.”
She turned to leave, and Rhiannon sat up, finding her voice. “Jia.”
“Yes?” She looked over her shoulder and Rhiannon was struck by how young and soft the girl appeared.
“You’re moving to L.A. soon, right? That’s what I heard?”
A light brightened Jia’s brown eyes and she faced her. “Oh, yes. I mean, if I can get my parents to come around. I dropped out of med school, but getting them on board with my moving across the country . . .” She grimaced. “We don’t have any family out there.”
You made your industry better for the young men who came after you.
Jia wasn’t exactly in her industry, but that didn’t matter. Rhiannon made an executive decision. “Would they be more on board if they knew you had a safe place to live lined up?” Katrina would adore this woman, Rhiannon was sure of that. And in case Katrina didn’t want another roommate, Rhiannon would house Jia in her own loft.
“With you?” Jia’s eyes grew so big, Rhiannon feared they might pop off her cute face. “Oh my God, yes! I mean. I have to check. But yes!”
“Cool.” Rhiannon fished in her pocket and then remembered she didn’t have a phone. “Do you have your phone? I’ll give you my number. We can connect later and figure things out.”
“Yes.” Jia punched Rhiannon’s number in her phone. “I’ll send you a text.”