While I wouldn’t go with the final encouragement, I leaned on the first and made my calls—with some subtlety.
I called Grace under the guise of checking on Felix and asked her opinion on whether to use calla lilies or peonies for thewedding. She didn’t mention Lucian, which I took as proof he wasn’t there.
After her, I called Shiloh at the office. She’d mentioned heading back after our dinner, not even an hour ago. I told her I’d called Lucian’s office—which I had—and he hadn’t answered, but I had a quick question about tomorrow’s interview. She’d stumbled over a response before saying that Lucian had sent out an email, cc’ing her, letting everyone know he’d rescheduled.
The words hit like a sucker punch, knocking the air from my lungs. Somehow, I managed a laugh and blamed my forgetful memory. But when I asked her to track him down and tell him to answer his phone, it was harder to recover when she let me know he wasn’t there.
I’d feigned a call from my dad and hung up before she heard the devastating embarrassment through the line.
I scrolled through my contacts, itching to hurl my phone across the apartment and hide out in my old room, when I came across one last name I thought could help.
Rose Berkshire.
If I thought the embarrassment with Shiloh was bad, it would be nothing compared to calling Rose. Already, heat crawled up my neck into my cheeks. Again, I considered hiding away and waiting him out, but I just…couldn’t. Before I lost my nerve, I tapped her name.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
I should forget it and ha?—
“Hello?” Rose answered.
“H-hey, Rose.” I winced, hating my nerves. “This is Aspen. Lucian’s fiancée.”
“Hey, Aspen. How are you?”
“Good. Good.” Another wince. More heat flamed across my cheeks. A deep breath. “Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you happened to be at work, and if you are, if you knew if Lucian was there. I know phones aren’t allowed, and I probably just missed him saying he was going, but I wanted to check in case it was my ridiculously scattered memory.”
Ramble much?
I bit back a shameful groan. If I stood near a wall, I’d hammer my head against it in hopes it might knock some sense into me.
Rose, being the most wonderful woman ever, didn’t call me out. In fact, she laughed. “I get it. My memory is the worst. If I don’t write it down, then it doesn’t exist.”
“Same,” I lied, laughing with her. I had a great memory, and at no point had Lucian told me he’d be at the club. He hadn’t told me anything about anything.
“But, yeah. I saw him just a bit ago talking to Corbin.”
A knot twisted around my heart. I’d been so focused on figuring out where the hell Lucian was that I hadn’t considered how much it would hurt that he went to The Berkshire without me. I hadn’t considered the possibilities of what it meant.
“Good. Thank you,” I muttered. Shoving back the hollow ache carving through my chest, I quickly thought of what to do next. I could wait for him to come home—probably for him to ignore me again. Or maybe I could go there. Maybe it would ease some of the pressure on my lungs. Maybe it would allow us to reconnect, and he could explain what caused the drastic change from last week. “Um, is there any way that I might be able to join him? I know I’m not a member or anything…”
“Of course,” she said, like it was obvious. “I’ll let Kendra know at the front desk and have you sign the forms.”
“Great. Thank you so much, Rose.”
“Any time. I’ll see you soon.”
I hung up and scrunched my eyes, hating the torrent of emotions rioting through me too quick to latch onto any one. Embarrassment. Frustration. Hurt. Anger. Worry—so much worry.
Why was he there?
Why had he been so cold all week?
Was he with someone else?
