“Damn right it was,” he says. “I think it’s best if I have myself removed from this assignment first thing in the morning.”
“No.” The word is out before I think about it. “That isn’t necessary.”
He gives a humorless laugh. “It is completely necessary.”
“It was a mistake. One that won’t happen again.” I lift my chin. “We’re both adults. We acknowledge it, and then we move on. There’s no need to involve anyone else.”
“Itwillhappen again, and you know it. We—” He stops talking.
“We what?” I ask.
He lifts his head, narrowing his eyes.
“What?” I ask. “What’s wrong?”
He puts a finger to his lips. His head tips a fraction toward the doorway at the end of the passage.
And now I hear it too. Faint. The static and hum of the venue’s PA system somewhere off in the main hall. There is a voice running through an announcement. My name is in the middle of it. Then again, more pointed the second time.
“They’re paging you,” Ridge says. “Over the PA.”
Oh, no.
“They’re calling me to the stage.” It comes out half question, half statement.
“Yes.”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
My speech.
I’m up.
Not now. No. I need to pull myself together. To freshen up.
My hair is loose around my shoulders. My lipstick is gone. I’m sure I look like an absolute mess. I feel like a mess.
They’re going to know.
There are two hundred people out there. Everyone is going to take one look at me, and they will know what I just did.
“I can’t go out there.” My hands go to my hair, trying to twist it back up into something. The pins are gone. There is nothing to anchor it with. “Shit! Cover for me. Tell them I’m sick. Make something up.”
“Yes, you can go out there.” He steps in close, not quite touching me. “Eyes up here.”
My eyes meet his.
“You’ll be fine. You’ve got this. You go up there, you smile, you give your speech, you get them to write the checks. You’re good at this. I watched you all evening. There isn’t a single person in that room who is more capable of pulling this off than you are.”
“I look terrible.”
“You look beautiful.”
Warmth blossoms inside me, but it is quickly replaced with doubt.
“They’ll know.”
“They won’t…trust me on this. You’ve got this, Robyn.”
