Page 23 of Broken Vows

Wait, what? I shift my gaze from searching for the hotel manager to Theo. “You guys don’t live together?”

“No, never have,” he says as he removes his coat and drapes it over his forearm. “She’s pretty… traditional… like that.”

There’s something in the tone that strikes me, a heaviness that I can’t interpret, and I’m desperate to know more. A professional curiosity, or part of my plan I’m not sure, but it’s rare to work with couples who don’t live together. I didn’t get the religious vibe from Annabelle, but I’ve been known to be wrong. Maybe it’s because they both come from money and saving on rent isn’t as important to them as the rest of us? I decide to pocket this little nugget of information for later.

Theo tosses a quick glance over his shoulder. “Listen,” he says with a hushed tone. “We clearly got off on the wrong foot. I’d like for us to start with a fresh slate. There’s… a lot of factors at play here, and the last thing we need is more stress with us not getting along.”

I go still. He might be looking at me earnestly, but I just know that whatever truce he’s suggesting is bullshit. But, sure, I’ll play along. This might even work to my advantage somehow. “I’d really like that,” I say and go to shake the hand he’s already extended. Our hands meet and a surprising warmth from his palm shoots through my body. A small gasp escapes my lips, and the corner of his mouth slightly quirks. Then I feel it—the subtle pressure of his thumb brushing against my wrist, slow and deliberate.

My breath catches, and his eyes darken with something unspoken. He wets his lips, and I’m transfixed, the tension between us crackling like a live wire. I don’t know who moves first, but suddenly, we’re close—too close. Our bodies are nearly touching, his breath ghosts against my temple. He brings his hand up and smooths my scarf that flipped over my shoulder, his fingers grazing the side of my neck. Then, in a low whisper that sends a shiver down my spine, he says, “Oh, we’re going to have so much fun.”

His words are a bucket of cold ice, and I drop my hand, catching in my periphery Annabelle walking to greet me from the direction of the bathrooms. Oh God, oh God, please tell me she didn’t just see whatever the hell that was. “Hey!” I lean into her hug. She’s definitely a hugger, and I hold on a second longer than necessary, praying she didn’t notice anything off. “Are you ready for today?”

She nods, but there’s a hesitation in her expression, a flatter smile than the last few times I’ve seen her. Good. The sooner she realizes that Theo is who he is, the better her life will be. “Sure am,” she says. “I’m ready to check this off the list and move on to the next thing.”

Wow. Move on to the next thing, huh? Maybe the influx of emails and to-do lists I’ve sent over the past two weeks are wearing her down. Or maybe it’s something else entirely.

I really hope it’s something else.

“What do you think of the hotel so far?” I ask lightly. “Have either of you been here before?”

“I haven’t,” Annabelle answers, looping her arm through Theo’s. “But Theo might have.”

“Maybe once or twice,” Theo says, as he guides us through the lobby. “Between work and wedding planning, my life’s a blur. Everything else kind of slips my mind.”

His hand twitches slightly. Is he nervous?

“When I scouted the place recently,” I say casually, “the manager shared all kinds of stories about the hotel. Spectacular events they’ve hosted, all the famous guests who’ve stayed here.” I let a beat pass. “She also hinted that it’s a popular spot for… secret love affairs.”

He stills for just a fraction of a second at my last words, then recovers, responding lightly. “I can’t say I can compete with the manager’s stories. If I was here, I was probably trapped in some painfully dull medical conference. The only illicit affairs that were happening were between doctors and the hotel coffee.”

God, he’s a good liar. I itch to pull out my phone and show him that he was, in fact, here on Tuesday with a mystery brunette. For now, I’ll bide my time and work harder to get the answers I need.

“This place is already surprising me,” Annabelle says, “maybe we should add—” Her phone rings and she pulls it from her purse, frowning. “So sorry, I need to take this.”

“No problem,” I say quickly. “If you two want to take a seat, I’ll check us in.”

“No. I’m coming with you,” Theo says, flatly. The finality in his tone catches me off-guard, like my simple suggestion of checking us in solo offended him.

Theo subtly nods to a man in a black suit standing in the lobby and nudges his head to Annabelle. It takes me just a moment to realize this is probably part of Annabelle’s security detail. They didn’t have one at our office, but maybe they do in more public spaces? Who knows, maybe Annabelle is surrounded by undercover agents. She is the daughter of a billionaire after all.

After we check in, and return to Annabelle, the same hotel manager walks out from her office to greet me warmly, politely asking about Sydney, while I introduce her to the couple.

The manager probably doesn’t know who Theo is, but everyone knows the Barlowes. When Sydney arranged the appointment, she used the standard lingo that I’d be visiting with a high-profile client and discretion is top priority.

It’s New York. No questions were asked.

“Welcome, welcome,” the manager says, smacking her hands once, and talking way too loud. “We are so thrilled to have you here!”

Just as we’re about to head off on the tour, Annabelle’s phone rings again. “Jesus. I’m sorry. This is going to take a while.”

Theo’s brows crease. “Everything okay?”

She nods. “Yeah, Nonna stuff. You guys go ahead. I’ll meet you as soon as this is done.”

No. Wait. I don’t want to be alone with Theo—especially not after earlier. “We can absolutely wait for you,” I say, panic rising in my chest.

Annabelle asks the person on the phone to hold on, then cups it under her chin. “Please. Go. It’s totally fine. I’ll be up shortly. Theo, text me where you’re at. Security will escort me when I’m ready.”