Page 128 of Secret Plunge


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Number three: Ryan went to my dad to see if he could help, and my dad has possibly called my mom.

Number four: Ryan had to leave because of his brother.

Ryan had to leave because of his brother.

The next croissant piece is hard to swallow, and I have to drink some water to keep the food from getting stuck in my throat.

Ryan left because of his brother.

Not because of me?

Tara watches me quietly, which is a miracle in itself, but I probably look like I’m trying to solve the hardest math problem on earth while stuffing my face with sugar and fat.

Since she knows me so well, she holds out another piece when I’m done, this time a lemon zest mini cake.

“Why don’t you eat and I talk. Actually, here.” She grabs another mini cake—no, two—and puts them on my plate. “Take these too. You’ll probably need them.”

I devour the lemon zest, as well as the coffee cream and lavender bloom ones while she tells me everything that went down while I was either sleeping or feeling sorry for myself. I can’t believe I spent all this time in my yoga pants and with my hoodie pulled up to hide me even from myself, so I could have a proper pity party while all of this happened on the other side of the country, and I didn’t have a clue.

If it wasn’t for that stupid video Natasha Leopolt posted, I wouldn’t have turned off my phone. But sadly, I didn’t escape that disaster yesterday after waking up alone in the hotel room. Once I saw that, I shut off my phone, grabbed my things as fast as humanly possible, and fled that hotel like my ass was on fire.

The rest of the cake falls out of my hand and onto the plate, and Tara’s hand is there to snatch the plate away from me before it might clatter to the floor.

There’s a lump the size of a grapefruit in my throat, or at least it feels that way, and I have to swallow several times to get rid of it. “Does he . . . does he know you’re here?”

Tara nods. “He does. I called him when I boarded the plane, and when you went to the bathroom earlier, I texted him to let him know you’re fine.”

“And he said Zane’s all right?”

“Yes. And they’re trying to get the whole blogger situation taken care of.”

“That’s good, I’m so glad.”

How does someone wrap their head around so much in such a short time? I get anxious just thinking about it. And all of that after he found out that I lied to him. What must he be thinking about me?

I dig my fingers into the blanket and stare at my lap. “Is he mad?”

“We didn’t really talk much about that. He just told me what happened, and I promised to help, so here I am. I’m sure he isn’t happy about you lying to him this whole time, which we already knew anyway, but his main worry was that you’re okay.” She smiles. “Which is good, right? That means he cares.”

One corner of my mouth twitches, and she knows she’s got me. Only Tara gets me to smile when I don’t feel like ever smiling again.

I just hope with all of my heart Ryan cares enough to forgive me, because I can’t get rid of this nauseating dread. The panic that’s been swelling up inside me is now at a point where it’s ready to gobble me up belly first.

That feeling has been growing for quite a while, and I should have done something earlier. Said something earlier, but we all know that.

“Harper, you deserve an amazing life with the man of your dreams, and Ryan sounds like a really good guy.”

My chest heaves at her words. “He’s the best.”

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you. Do you think he’d try to get a hold of me and bring all of this crap to your dad’s doorstep if he didn’t care about you? Especially after all the other shit that happened?” She shakes her head over and over. “No way.”

“Maybe.” Then something clicks into place. “Wait a second. You said he went to my dad. Wasn’t he already fired at that point?”

Tara shrugs. “He didn’t mention anything about being fired, but I don’t think he’d seen your dad before he called me since he was busy with the whole Zane scenario, and then the blogger video too.”

I slap a hand over my mouth. “Oh my God, does that mean that whole thing was a lie?”

Tara grimaces. “Harps, you know better than anyone how this works. Click bait keeps getting worse and worse, and a lot of bloggers spew whatever crap they feel like these days as long as it gets them clicks.”

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