Rhys leaned back in his chair as though the decision had been made. “Titan has a private jet waiting for you once we finish dinner.”
Was he even traveling with her? The dull ache in her chest seeped into her stomach. The dread was spreading. She needed to order another dessert. Anything to buy time and figure out a way to finagle what she wanted.
“Rhys or I will pack your belongings,” Abigail added. “Then I’ll stay on the island for a few days and keep up the ruse that you’re here.”
“What? No.”
Abigail nodded. “Yup.”
Jules squared her shoulders. “Absolutely not. You won’t be safe—”
“See?” Abigail pointed at her like Jules was Exhibit A. “You just said you’re not safe here.”
Jules groaned. She’d walked into that. “I’m not leaving you here as bait. There’s literally zero chance we’re doing this. You two can figure something else out, but I’m not trading my safety for Abs’s.”
“We already have it covered.” The corners of Rhys’s mouth tipped up. His knowing smile danced with an unwavering confidence that promised he would get his way. What Jules wouldn’t do to wipe that look off his face.
“Wes is flying down,” he said, checking his watch. “Correction. He’s already here. He’ll stay with Abs then fly her home when she’s ready.”
Abigail rubbed her hands together. “There’s a nice backlog of accounts payable and receivable to enter. It’ll be like a welcome home gift.”
Jules grumbled. “Don’t be weird when you’re throwing me under the bus.”
“Don’t act like a spoiled Hollywood star when you’re mostly not.”
Her nose wrinkled. “Mostly?”
“Yeah, mostly.” Rhys crossed his arms.
Her shoulders dropped. “Why not Italy?” She and Rhys had a favorite cheese shop in Tuscany. “Cozumel? Austin, Texas? I don’t know.”
“No one would think to look for you in Virginia,” Rhys said. “And you’ll be in our hands. Titan has a network that will keep you protected.”
With security cameras, board games, granola, and no fake boyfriend.She twisted her napkin in her lap, wishing they at least had a chance to discuss the end of their vacation together. Would he talk about it on the jet? Maybe they’d have a chance before he stashed her somewhere.
“Was that a pout?” Abigail asked Rhys. “I’m pretty sure I saw a pout. Did you see it, Rhys?”
She twisted the napkin tighter. “I’m not pouting.”
He laughed. “No comment.”
“No comment is bodyguard code for yes, pouting.”
Rhys and Abigail weren’t even close. Jules was closer to mourning the end of her fake relationship than pouting.
“Jules?” Rhys asked, pulling her from her feelings.
Her eyes locked on his, and her stomach flipped. That was the biggest problem of all. She wouldn’t have the excuse of paparazzior the time lock of a vacation to wrap her arms around Rhys. Her heart squiggled, something like a squeeze and a shudder. She wasn’t ready for it to be over. She didn’t know what to do with that.
“You’ve been to Virginia,” Abigail said. “It’s not like they’re dropping you in Death Valley without a water bottle.”
“I’m not opposed to the state on principle.” She sipped her water. Virginia didn’t bother her. She’d seen bits of it after flying into Washington, DC, for an event with her mom and driving to North Carolina to film a miniseries. That had been years ago, when Jules was finding her footing, but the trip had been more about mother-daughter bonding than the acting gig. They’d even made a spontaneous stop at an amusement park outside of Richmond and ridden roller coasters until they puked. “Maybe Mom could fly out and hang with me. She could work, and I could…”
What did she do when she wasn’t preparing for a role? Nothing Margot had pitched had caught her attention. Nothing excited Jules lately and, if she was being honest, for a while. But when she stayed busy, that didn’t matter.
“You won’t tell your parents right away.”
That snapped Jules back. “I’m sorry. What?”
