“And Livvy and Nicholas are also going to be delayed,” Madison said shrewdly.
“Right.”
Madison’s lips slowly curled up. “Girl, someone is looking out for you.”
“I should tell Gabe, right?”
“Wellllll.” Madison smiled. “I think you should do whatever you think is best. But since the two of you were planning on going up tomorrow anyway? And now you’re going to have days alone with him in a rural area to charm, possibly, the literal pants off him? I would say it’s okay to... um. Go.”
Eve flushed. “He did say he was prepared to go tomorrow.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
She continued to work this moral dilemma out loud. “If he didn’t want to go, he could always cancel.”
“That’s right.”
She hesitated, then quickly opened her messages and sent a text.
“Are you telling him?”
“No.” She looked up, taking a deep breath. “I told the butler to move my bedroom so it’s next to his.” She wasn’t going to rip her shell or her clothes off and attack the man. However, it might be nice to be closer to him.
It was maybe silly to feel... empowered by the decision to simply make friends with the man, but she did. It was an action, however small. Madison was right. She’d spent her life having things done to her and for her. Doing anything for herself was going to take practice. She’d have to make conscious, repeated attempts to stick her neck out.
A slow smile spread across Madison’s face. “Good girl.”
Chapter 5
Gabe turned the ignition off and stared up at the massive mansion. He wasn’t surprised by the size of the place or its grandeur. The Kanes and Chandlers had had “lake houses” not too far from here when he was young that had been equally large and grand.
It had been a long time since he’d been around this kind of display of wealth, though. His sister was rich, but that was fairly recent—and as far as he could tell, she mostly spent her money on gaming systems and takeout, with the occasional splurge for trips to Comic-Con.
The evening was starting to take hold of the day, darkening the sky to a lavender hue. He fiddled with his keys. Leaned over to the passenger seat to make sure he’d packed his precious tablet. Pulled his hair out of the stubby bun and tied it back up. He’d meant to get a haircut before the wedding, but he hadn’t had time. Maybe he could go now?
Stalling.
He grimaced. Maybe he should have waited a day to come up. His mood might have been improved if he wasn’t suffering a low-key headache from his overindulgence last night.
He didn’t remember every second of how he’d gotten home, but he vividly recalled what an ass he’d been to Anne. Poor Anne, who had probably told everyone she knew today about the dick she’d had to drag inside.
And who had tripped into bed with her. Who had gracelessly asked her out.
Some of his friends called him a ladies’ man, and that wasn’t wrong. So how had he been such a mess with this one lady? He could only recall snatches of the night, had a vague impression of her voice and body and absolutely none of her face.
So. Stupid.
You are not allowed to drink any more alcohol for the rest of the week.For the rest of his life, maybe, but definitely for the rest of the week. There was no way he would have done any of that shit if he’d been sober.
He wouldn’t say he had a problem, but the fear he might be on his way to one was enough to have him vowing to dial back. He’d never drunk so much before Paul had died, and it had ramped up over the past few months. He’d always liked to go to clubs and bars, but not like this. He hadn’tneededthe social lubrication alcohol gave him before.
He reached into his pocket, his fingers brushing the bangle he’d found in his bed, and he pulled it out to look at it again. The gold was scuffed and worn down. He lifted it against his own wrist. The wearer was so much smaller than him. There was an inscription inside, anMand aK.
When it had tumbled out of his comforter, he’d been ecstatic. He hadn’t had any other woman in his bed for a while, which meant Anne must have dropped it, which meant he had a non-creepy reason to track her down. The app provided a number for them to contact each other, but only for the length of the ride, so he’d shot a message to Ryde.Hey, I think my driver dropped her bracelet last night. If she did, she can contact me and we can arrange a pickup. Or I can mail it to her.
Casual and friendly and not at all stalker-like. He’d signed off with his name and number, and a barely repressed hope he’d get back in touch with Anne. He could apologize and maybe assuage some of his guilt.
The low tones ofStar Wars’s Imperial March sounded, and he glanced down at his phone, though the ring identified the caller before the display could.
