“So it’s true.” He sighs at an idiot who cuts him off. But then he shouldn’t be driving like an old woman if he doesn’t want to be dissed on the road. “Was it your decision?”
“Does it matter?”
“I see. Not your decision. Well, if you want her, take her.”
I choke. “I’m not a rapist.”
“Then convince her,” he says, like I’m the biggest idiot in the world.
“Easier said than done.”
“My advice,” Dane says, “is to get out of L.A. Both of you are under a microscope here. Go to the family vacation home in the Maldives. Or the one in Thailand. Or Tahiti. If the idiot media follow you in a helicopter, shoot it down. That’s what guards are for. Then, once you’re alone with her, convince Paige that you’re not a total loss.” He drives on, inscrutable behind his sunglasses. “Or, second option: sit by and watch her marry some other sap, go live in a home with a white-picket fence, have two point three children and drive a gently used minivan.”
I stare at him, feeling like I’m in a Twilight Zone episode. Getting relationship advice from Dane is like getting lessons on how to be a moral, upstanding citizen from Ted Bundy.
“They might even get a dog,” Dane adds, scowling now as though that’s the most offensive possibility out of all the ones he’s listed.
I don’t know how to respond. He’s actually trying to help out. “Why are you bothering to give me advice? You don’t even like me.”
“Beside the point,” he says.
“No, seriously. Why?”
He glances my way for a fraction of a second. “Grandma Shirley wanted me to.”
“Are you kidding? Grandma Shirley hated me.”
“No. She worried about you because you aren’t particularly bright or cool-headed. Being emotional is a terrible handicap.”
“Right. Because having ice water for blood is so much better.” Shaking my head, I lean back in my seat. “I really want to know who you bought the ring for. I want to meet the woman who’d say yes to a man who’d be hot in an igloo.”
The muscles in his jaw flex. “Worry about yourself.” He stops the car in front of my hotel. “Get out.”
I do. The second I slam the door shut, he drives off. I watch the Bentley slowly disappear around the block.
As much as I hate Dane, he’s right about one thing. Paige is going to be snapped up by someone. And that man is going to share her bed, give her children…
My hands curl into fists. The idea of her with another man makes me want to vomit. So I need to do something here. And Dane’s suggestion is a good one…plus, I was thinking about it already. Leave the country. Lie low. Have a heart-to-heart talk.
My lawyers are doing what they can to ensure that Mira isn’t going to screw with Paige’s stepsister or Renni. But ultimately, Paige has to know that Mira was involved in Bethany’s accident, even if her influence was indirect. I don’t want to have any ugly secrets between us that can come back later to bite me in the ass.
Then I should just calmly explain why she should forget what I told her about my loving her—I said that all wrong anyway—and she should give us a chance without any preconceived notions about how we should end it all.
A good plan. In fact, it’s perfect.
I switch on my phone. Time to execute.
* * *
Paige
I no longer know what to make of Ryder’s absence. I don’t think anything’s happened to him; if it had, I would’ve seen it on the news.
One possible clue: Elliot isn’t answering his phone either. Elizabeth hasn’t been able to get a hold of either of her brothers, and she’s convinced Elliot and Ryder are up to no good.
“One plus one isn’t two when they’re together. It’s more like ten.”
We have barely a week left before our wedding. Mom’s called twice, but I told her I didn’t know what was going on and asked her to not make any travel plans.
The list I made to convince Ryder that I love him too sits forlornly on my desk. At the rate things are going, I may never get a chance to use it.
Julian wanted me to ditch Ryder at the altar. It looks like it’s going to be the opposite, with me left behind. Now isn’t that ironic?
Renni texts me to see when the rehearsal is. I text back, I don’t know.
I’m going to kill him when I see him, you know that, right?
A reluctant smile tugs at me. Yes, but you should at least wait until you have an airtight alibi.
You can be my alibi. This shit isn’t cool, Paige. Don’t let him get away with it. He’s gotta respect you.
My eyes sting. I press my lips together until they hurt. Renni means well, but she doesn’t know everything that’s going on between me and Ryder…or the fact that he said he loved me. I haven’t told anybody about our last big fight. If I did, I’d have to talk about how I’m in love with him, too. I’m not saying that out loud to anyone until I get a chance to tell him first. He deserves at least that much.