The front door to the bakery opens with the jingle of a bell, and the sound pulls me from my spiral. A man I don’t recognize enters. He is oozing with tan, white-toothed, vaguely plastic-looking Hollywood smarm, and my hackles instinctively rise, even though it takes my brain another moment to connect the pieces of whom he must be.
“Perry!” Lyle calls out loudly. Too loudly, really, but he obviously wants to make sure I’ve heard him. “What a pleasant surprise. What are you doing here?”
Shoot! When Lyle said he might be stopping by set, I thought he meantlater, not within moments. Grady is still in the bathroom, and I can’t just leave him behind; even if I could, Perry is standing right next to the front door, so I can’t exactly make a fast escape. I have no idea if he knows what I look like, but if he does, and he catches me here, that will be the end of working in the wardrobe department. No more laughing with Deja over the latest bizarre costume we’re supposed to piece together in less than a day. No more singing show tunes with Lyle on our way to set. No more seeing Wes, full stop.
With my back to the wall, I slowly slide along it until I reach a door. I have no idea where this door goes, but it will at the very least take me into another room. Maybe I can hide out until Perry leaves.
Luckily there’s still so much commotion going on—between the crew setting up for the next shot and Lyle loudly laughing at something Perry said, probably to distract him from seeing my quick escape—that no one seems to notice as I open the door and slip inside.
Oh! It’s a pantry. A big, beautiful, well-stocked pantry. I’m not much of a baker, but Helen would be absolutely ecstatic if she had a pantry this nice. It’s also dark and cool and quiet, and I’m all alone. I let out a deep breath, relieved?—
Until the door opens, and someone quickly slips inside. My heart freezes, more out of surprise than real fear. There’s no way Perry followed me into a closet, right?
But as my eyes adjust, my heart picks up speed again. Nope. It definitely isn’t Perry in the pantry with me.
It’s Wes.
Chapter 25
Nina
For a moment, we just stare at each other. From where he’s standing with his back to the door, there’s about four feet between us, but somehow it feels like no space at all. My body once again—you guessed it—freezes. There are about a million things I want to do right now, but I’m waiting, holding my breath, to see what he does.
Wes just continues to stare at me, though. His hand is splayed out on the door, fingers pressing against the wood, like he can’t quite trust himself to move and needs to keep himself anchored there. His eyes are so intensely green right now. I feel like they could burn a hole through me if I let him keep looking at me like that.
It occurs to me all at once that I’m going to have to be the one to break the silence, even though he followedmeinto the room. That doesn’t feel fair. But then again, none of this has felt fair. Him coming back into my life like this. Almost close enough to touch, but so very far away.
“What are you doing?” I ask him quietly. My voice is an annoying combination of breathlessness and another, more unfamiliar quality that for once, I don’t bother to obscure from my tone—irritation.
It’s enough to make Wes blink out of his stupor, finally breaking that too-intense, too-long stare. “Uh. I ...” He clearly did not plan this out and has no idea what to say.
On another day, I might have found this charming, might have even taken some hope in it. But right now, today? It just annoys me further. “You shouldn’t be in here. Someone might notice?—”
“FBI,” Wes blurts unconvincingly.
I raise an eyebrow at him. “FBI?”
Credit where credit is due, I guess, because he commits to the bit. “FBI business. We need to check the ID of your companion, make sure he isn’t a security threat.”
The sigh that escapes my throat happens completely without my permission. But once it does, I realize it is the only appropriate response to this situation. “Wes. Come on. This is ... you can’t do this.”
“Can’t do what?”
“This!” It comes out firmer, louder, than I meant it to. Wes glances at the closed door behind him, so I lower my voice, but I hold on to my aggravation. I am so very sick of pushing it down, pretending like it’s anything else. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to do. I’ve answered your questions. I’ve kept your secret. I’ve lied to my family. I’ve stood by and watched while you?—”
Looked at Harmony the way you used to look at me.Use her like you used me.I bite off the words, still not able to say them, even though my body is shaking with anger. Determinedly, I hold his gaze, wanting him to see, to know, just what all of this has cost me. “You don’t get to corner me in empty rooms,” I finish. I realize that I’m shaking. “And you certainly don’t get to play the jealous boyfriend.”
I wait for him to deny it, but he doesn’t. He clenches his jaw, like he’s biting back something he shouldn’t say. A muscle ticks in his cheek. We are staring at each other again, and the room is so full of unspoken things, it feels like I might drown in them.
“I can’t—” he starts.
I’m desperate to know where that sentence ends, but before it does, the door starts opening behind him. Wes moves just in time so it doesn’t knock him over, flattening his back against the wall behind the door, obscuring himself from whoever’s entering on the other side.
It’s Lyle. Lyle’s head, to be more precise, poking through the gap in the open doorway. “Nina. Coast is clear. You can come out now.”
So much has happened in the past two minutes that I honestly forgot why I came in here in the first place. Perry. He must be gone now. I do my best to smile at Lyle, nodding. “Okay. Thanks.”
I hesitate. This conversation, whatever is happening here with Wes, doesn’t feel like it’s over, but Lyle is clearly waiting for me to follow, and I can’t think of a single excuse why I shouldn’t.
