Page 138 of No Headlines Please

No. I hadn't.

I managed a smile. "Sorry." I lifted my glass in a toast. "Congratulations. I'm happy for you."

"Yeah, I can tell," he replied, sounding doubtful. But then he grinned. "Good thing I'm happy enough for both of us."

He looked it, too. I was glad to see it, especially compared to how glum he'd looked in June, when he'd first returned to Chicago.

The thought had barely crossed my mind when Ryder's grin faded. His tone grew serious as he asked, "So about Sloane, how are you doing?"

My answer was automatic. "Fine."

He studied my face. "I know you broke it off, but that's still gotta be rough."

The only thing rough was the media frenzy and all of the bullshit surrounding it. When it came to Sloane herself, I wasn't crying into my pillow.

And no, it wasn't because I was a monster. It was because, after months of theatrics, I wasn't buying it.

For the past three days, I'd kept my suspicions under wraps. Why fuel the fire? But this was Ryder.

Not the public.

Not a reporter.

And not Mother, who seemed convinced I'd lost my mind.

She didn't care about Sloane. She cared about the headlines, which were getting more brutal every day. Evelyn Whitmore-McGuiness was not happy.

I knew this firsthand because my refusal to issue a sympathetic statement had put me in her crosshairs yet again.

I looked to Ryder and asked, "You want the truth?"

He nodded.

I gave him a grim smile. "I don't think she's dead." I lifted my glass but didn't drink. "Or missing."

His eyebrows furrowed. "No shit?"

"I'd bet my life on it."

He studied my face. "That's a pretty big bet."

Finally, I took a good, long sip. "Yup. But I'm liking my odds."

53

The Guy in the Photo

Delaney

I was curled up with my phone on the cabin's rustic couch, staring down at the photo that filled my screen. In it, Maddox McGuiness stood beside Sloane Hayworth at some gallery opening in Beverly Hills.

They looked like they were made for each other.

Maddox looked devastatingly handsome in a dark tailored suit. He wasn't smiling. But he didn't look miserable either. His hair was neat, his expression was calm, and his dark eyes revealed absolutely nothing.

Beside him, Sloane wore a pale gold dress that hugged every curve. Her honey-blonde hair was pinned loosely atop her head, with a few soft strands escaping around her face as she smiled up at Maddox.

She looked stunning – and perfectly paired with the man whose arm rested casually at her waist.