Istrode into the grand ballroom of the Crystal hotel, dressed like a goddess. Literally. If I’d known how kick-ass it would feel to don a helmet and leather pants, I really would’ve done it long ago.
Possibly daily.
Even in tonight’s well-dressed crowd, I’d felt like a heroine.
If only the girl who celebrated her high school grad party in this room—and got kissed by Dane Davenport in a hallway—could see me now.
You’ll be okay,I’d tell her.It all gets better. Just you wait.
And now, here I was. It was the end of another beautiful night. But another semi-shitty night, for me.
Last year, the Players threw a pre-holiday masquerade party here with their record company exec, Trey Jones, to celebrate the release of their debut album. This year, they’d decided to make it an annual event. And I was all over it. The party was amazing.
Yet nothing in my life was really hitting above about a five out of ten, at best, these days. Ever since Dane left me.
Pathetic, maybe, but true.
As I walked across the ballroom, gold disco balls spun slowly above, scattering sparkles over the now-empty dance floor. Music was still playing softly, but the party was officially over. The DJ had left. A few lights had been turned on and the hotel and catering staff were starting to clean up.
Most of the guests had cleared out, though there were still a few clusters of VIPs, rock stars and their entourages, gathered in the shadows and spilling out into the hotel, in various stages of almost-leaving.
Jesse and Katie were still here, so I was, too.
It was almost Christmas, so at least my best friend was home from the road with her husband, along with the rest of Dirty and the Players. There were so many afterparties happening tonight, I was still deciding which one to go to.
All I knew was I wasn’t going home anytime soon.
I’d been keeping myself as busy as possible. As distracted as possible. And with the approach of the holiday season and all the merriment it would entail, the gathering of loved ones… it wasn’t looking good. The agency was doing well, I was loving running it, but I was getting a little afraid I was turning into a workaholic to avoid the empty penthouse at night.
If I didn’t just keep moving, if I allowed myself even a moment to sit still and absorb what went down with Dane, I was terrified of what would happen to me and my heart.
I was still living in his penthouse. Without him.
I was technically, legally married to a man I hadn’t seen or heard from in a month. He’d left me, more or less, by way of a very bizarre email thread where he told me he was leaving the country for a while, but wouldn’t even tell me where he was going.
I’d received only one message from him since then, about a week ago, by way of a postcard from Brisbane. He didn’t even write anything on it except an incredibly impersonalHope you’re doing well.
Was he in Australia? Maybe. Maybe he’d stopped there for a reprieve from his tour of the world’s most terrifying travel destinations. I seriously had nightmares about the man getting lost in the Congo and eaten by wild boars. Or worse.
Sure, he was a grown man with a wealth of financial resources. But I was pretty sure he hadn’t ever ventured through a “rough” Canadian neighborhood, or any neighborhood, without security, much less to a foreign country with a Do Not Travel advisory. And he’d left his team behind in Toronto. Even Velma didn’t know where he was.
Apparently, no one but me had received a postcard.
At least I was fairly certain that he hadn’t actually lost his mind; he’d kept in touch with one person. As far as I could tell from asking around, Lex was the only person who knew where Dane was. And he wouldn’t tell me.
Gotta honor my brother’s trust in me, was what Lex told me when I asked.What if Katie asked you to protect her whereabouts from everyone on the planet, even Jesse?
Not fair.
But yeah, I got it. Dane and Lex were more than cousins now. I mean, they always had been, but now they knew: they were brothers. And Dane didn’t want to be found. By the media, by the rest of his family, even by me.
He wanted a break from Dane Davenport and everything that went with him.
Including his fake wife.
So be it.
My life was good, right? I was more or less a millionaire, on paper. I owned my agency. There was nothing to complain about there.
