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My phone rings and I snap my eyes to the screen.
Fuck.
Not the voice I need to hear right now, but it’s the next best thing. “Morning, Lon. We’re on our—”
“Chase, she’s not here.” Lonnie’s firm but panicked voice comes through the other line.
I pull the car over, screeching on the side of the road. “What do you mean? Where is she?”
“I—I don’t know. Charlie and I woke up and she was gone. I—I think she might have left last night?”
I bite down a curse. “Then why am I only getting this call now?”
“We were drinking. Charlie was still passed out on the couch when I got up—Pepper was gone and there’s no sign of her sleeping here last night.”
“How fucking drunk did you all get?”
“Not the point, Reeves.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Where’s Charlie?”
“She’s freaking out. She’s trying to go out and look for her and accusing me of holding her against her will.”
“Lon,” Noah warns.
“I know. I won’t let her out of my sight,” she whispers. “Oh shoot. I might have told them last night. Why you brought them here.”
“Fuck,” I hiss. “Don’t leave. Lock the doors. We’re on our way.”
I end the call and press on the gas pedal. “Noah.”
“I’m on it.”
He whips out his phone and starts making calls.
30
Ididn’t sleep all night. Not that the private plane I was forced into wasn’t top of the line comfort, fully catered and friendly staffed. But I wouldn’t dare close my eyes.
I felt like such a fool the entire trip back to Virginia.
Lonnie is going to kill me.
I almost laugh at my delusion. She’s no longer my boss. There’s no reason to fake being an Ice Girl.
My cover is blown.
I picked on a few berries and crackers on the plane and didn’t say no to coffee from the friendly waitress the moment the sun was up, but other than that, I hadn’t spoken to anyone or eaten a thing.
I was quietly walked to a hotel suite I recognize. It’s the same one I was in on my wedding day. Doug the actor didn’t say anything before he left me in here. Just that it was nice meeting me and that he hopes there’s no hard feelings.
I’m sitting on a light blue tufted armchair when Troy walks in. I spare him a glance and turn back to the window.
“I’m not marrying you,” I say before he has the chance to close the door.
“Message received, sweetheart. Unfortunately, this is no longer a love commitment.”
“Got that right. It’s kidnapping,” I mutter.
