“You mentioned that.” I squeezed his hand and my stomach growled.
Rylie chuckled, and said, “Let’s go back to the hotel and have some food delivered. I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day.”
Chapter sixteen
Whenwepulledupto the hotel, it was surrounded by media. Security verified our room key before letting us into the parking garage, and more security met us after we parked.
“Mr. Allen. I’m sorry for the swarm of media.” The hotel manager said when Rylie opened the door for me to get out.
Rylie nodded, looked at me and said, “Do you want to stay here, or just pack up and head back to the condo?”
“They figured out who I am at this point. Does it matter if we try to hide?” I reached up and kissed him while we waited for the elevator. “You staying with me over the last year has seemed to work out for you. I’m sorry it doesn’t anymore.”
He just smiled, pushed my hair behind my ear, ran his finger over where his ring sat on my finger, and said, “I should have handled all this better with you. I should have told you before thrusting you in front of the cameras. I should have made sure you were okay with all this beforehand.”
The door opened, and we stepped in. He pulled me close before he hit the button and rested his cheek on the top of my head. I held him tighter and said, “What’s done is done. We can’t take it back. I said yes to marrying you, Rylie. I have to accept this. It is a way of your life.”
“But—”
“Stop.” I said pulling back and looking up at him. “You can if, who, what, when, where, why, how, coulda, woulda, shoulda yourself to death. It won’t change a damn thing.”
“I just…” He trailed off when he saw the look on my face. “Okay. I’m sorry regardless.”
“We have established that.” The elevator dinged, and I strode out leaving him to follow. Yes, it would have been nice, but I didn’t lie to him when I said it wouldn’t have mattered. It doesn’t matter. Sure, it complicates things. We won’t have a quiet life, and I guess I will have to learn to watch my mouth, but I loved Rylie. I wasn’t going to let this get in our way.
My stomach growled again as I was opening the door, and Rylie chuckled. “You sure you don’t want to get some room service here while we pack?”
“I’d like to go and get settled at your place—”
“Our place.” Rylie corrected.
“How is it that I’ve never been to your…” He raised his eyebrow at me, and I sighed, “Our place. That is going to take some getting used to saying.”
“It was easier for me to keep that side of myself hidden from you. Easier to keep the media offus.”
“That’s why you’ve always been so insistent upon just staying at the hotel with me the last six months?” He nodded. I threw my suitcase open, and started packing my things. I had vaguely wondered about it, but figured he was just treating it as a mini vacation. A place away from home.
When all of our things were packed up, I took another look around the room, and there was a part of me that sighed sadly. “What’s wrong?”
“Just thinking how this is the last of what was.”
He came to stand behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and rested his chin on the top of my head. “We can still have these getaways. They will be a little harder to arrange, but it can be done. Are you ready to start a new chapter?”
“Yes. No.” I said, leaning back against him and breathing him in. “Yes. As long as I’m with you.”
We pulled up to a concrete building that speared into the sky, with dark glass windows and balconies all along the front. I swear every building in this city looked the same. Rylie got out, tossed the keys to the valet and said, “Please have the items in the trunk brought up.”
“Of course, sir.”
Rylie held my hand tight as he pulled me into the large foyer. It was all glass walls and rich brown hardwood floors with fancy area rugs I was almost afraid to walk on. The entryway had a chandelier with at least five hundred pieces of glass attached to a black iron frame. It was beautiful, but screamed opulence.
Ferns in large gray concrete pots and a full-sized concrete water display with filigree designs around the base sat below the chandelier. The room itself was easily five times larger than my apartment back in California.
Rylie led me past a few rows of gray leather sofas, one of which had a man who I thought might have been one of the founders of the Watt Millstone factory. I blinked, and he did a double take at me as he read something on his tablet.
We entered the office, where an older, fully gray man rose to his feet and said, “Mr. Allen, what can I do for you?” His eyes flicked to mine and then back to Rylie.
“Frank, do you have the documents I called about earlier? I want Luci to have full rights to anything and everything.” Rylie’s arm slid around me, and his hand rested on my hip. I felt his thumb move in an attempt to comfort me, but my heart was racing. This place was something that you only saw in movies.
