I thought I should send you this before you see it on the Internet. Apparently Ryder’s been staying here.
She’s attached a photo of a hotel I’m familiar with. It’s the place Ryder had that orgy the night before his cousin’s rehearsal dinner. He’s coming out of the building in the picture, eyes hidden behind a huge pair of sunglasses.
The usual assholes are saying you guys broke up, but I don’t buy it. Argh. Maybe we should sue them for defamation or something, no?
I return to my call with Bethany. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Of course. Take care of yourself. And no matter what happens, just remember you’re awesome and I love you.”
“Love you, too, Bethany.”
I go back to the picture. Then I type, When?
Yesterday according to the “news,” Renni responds.
Thank you!
After throwing on a clean tunic and skirt, I grab my purse and car keys. It’s time I go track down my fiancé and tell him how I feel.
* * *
There is a sense of déjà vu as I walk through the main entrance to the lobby. Chandeliers hang from the high, golden ceiling, and my shoes click with every step.
A young woman in a black suit stands behind the front desk, and she gives me a smooth professional smile. “Good evening, ma’am. How can I help you?”
“Can I speak to the manager on duty, please?”
“May I inquire what this is in regards to?”
“Just tell him Paige Johnson is here.”
She frowns slightly, but says, “Please have a seat.” She gestures at the empty couches behind me. “I’ll be right back.”
I sit and wait. The orchids on the table look exceptionally white and elegant. Thin but sturdy wires hold the stems in place.
Soon, the manager comes out. This time he doesn’t come with security. I give him a small, friendly smile.
“Paige. What a surprise,” he says, his words lightly accented.
“Hello, Patrik.” I stand up. “I’m here to see Ryder. I understand he’s staying here.”
“Oh, terribly sorry, but Mr. Reed checked out just an hour ago.”
“He did?” I say almost stupidly.
Patrik looks sympathetically devastated. “If I’d only known you were coming…”
Suddenly I’m tired. “Do I need to settle the account?”
His palms jump up between us. “No, not at all. Everything’s been taken care of.”
“He might’ve left something behind. Would you mind if I check?”
There’s something that looks suspiciously like pity in his kind blue eyes. “Of course. Let me grab a keycard, and we can go up together.”
We take an empty elevator. I keep my chin up and back straight even though I want to collapse in a corner and cry. Down the hall, we hit the same suite where Ryder had his wild party with naked women and empty bottles of booze and the hazy smoke of burnt pot.
Housekeeping hasn’t had a chance to clean the suite yet. I turn to Patrik. “You don’t have to stay. It may take a while.”
He nods and steps back a pace. “Take your time.”
The door closes behind him with a soft click.
I look around. No signs of wild partying or womanizing. Just rumpled sheets and a shower that’s been used. A couple of towels on the bathroom floor. I kneel on the side of the bed and bury my face in the pillows.
They smell like Ryder—the clean soap and that indefinable man scent that never fails to send hot jitters of longing thorough my whole being. The pain of not having him with me is almost physical, a knife piercing my heart. I press a tight fist against my chest and swallow a sob.
I fumble through my purse until I find my phone. I dial Ryder’s number. He used to always answer me, but now…
This time is no exception. After what feels like forever, I get voice mail.
“You have reached…” a soulless mechanical voice drones on until a sharp beep cuts it off.
“Ryder, it’s me. Paige. I don’t know where you are…or how angry you still are with me, but I want you to know I miss you and I want you back. You remember how you said I was looking forward to the end of one year? Well, you were wrong. I was afraid. I just couldn’t believe you could ever love me, and I didn’t want to be that cliché—an assistant who falls for her boss. But…” I drag in a shuddery breath. Hot tears thicken in my throat, and I compose myself so I can actually talk rather than start blubbering like an idiot. “I’m in love with you, Ryder. Crazy, stupid in love. It hurts to be away from you, and I hope it’s not too late for us. Just come back. I’m so sorry about everything. I—”
The voice mail beeps again, ending the recording. My hand clenches around my phone. And this time I can’t stop the flow of tears or the sounds of sorrow and loss being dragged out from deep inside me.
By the time I leave the suite, the pillows are soaked through.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Paige
I do not want to get up the next morning. Nor do I want to go downstairs and sit at the counter with Elizabeth and pretend to be okay.
The mirror presents a horror show. Red rims my swollen eyes, and my complexion is blotchy. If it weren’t for being pregnant, I’d just stay in bed. But I have to think about the baby.
With a sigh, I put on a t-shirt and a pair of gray sweats and drag myself downstairs. Sue, the housekeeper, puts sunny yellow daisies in the living room and dining room…maybe to counteract my mood. I’m not exactly good at masking my emotions.
Elizabeth, of course, looks perfect. She’s at the counter, outfitted impeccably in a blue designer dress, sipping her coffee as usual. Her eyes go dark with concern and worry as she looks at me. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” My voice is a rasp, and I wince.
“I’m such an idiot. Of course you aren’t okay. When he comes back, I’m going to kill him. Then handcuff him to you.” She gestures at the counter. “The chef made some eggs, bacon and pancakes. If you’d rather have something else—”
“No, it’s fine.” The chef could offer me a gold-plated, Michelin three-star pancake, and I still wouldn’t want it. I’m only eating for the baby.
We sit in silence as I mechanically shovel food into my mouth. I don’t want to be rude, but I also don’t want to go on and on about Ryder to his sister. She doesn’t seem to know what topic to safely broach either.
Maybe I should go home to Sweet Hope…or take a short trip to someplace nobody knows me…
Sue bustles in. Her face is flushed, and excitement glitters in her eyes. “It’s him!”
“Who?” Elizabeth says.
“Mr. Reed!”
I jump to my feet. “He’s here?”
“No. He sent a car for you.” She flings her arm behind her. “You’re supposed to pack a few things and go with the driver as soon as possible.”
I don’t even bother to hear the rest of what she has to say. Food forgotten, I rush to my suite and start packing. Since I have no idea how long it’s going to be or anything, I toss fistfuls of everything into a suitcase.
Elizabeth comes in a few minutes later. “Make sure you take your passport as well,” she says. “And only your lightest clothes.”