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As we pulled onto the road, a silver car that had been parked outside Drew's place pulled in the lane right behind us.
"Is it just me, or is that car following us?" I asked, watching the vehicle in the rearview mirror.
Drew sat up and looked over his shoulder. “I think so. I’m pretty sure he followed me home from the studio today. If I'd been thinking, I wouldn't have gone home." He pinched his lips together and bobbed his head forward, muttering about how he should have driven his truck instead of the Lamborghini.
"I probably need to get him off our tail, don’t I?"
"Yeah, it would definitely be a bad idea to tip him off to the safe house. That would ruin the show's entire ending if they saw Gwen showing up there."
So I merged into the left lane and took the next left, making the navigation app mad again. But the silver car had no trouble following us. So I took the next left as well.
Still, the car remained on our trail.
I grimaced, resisting the urge to slam on my brakes and have the guy rear-end us. Damaging his car would probably help get him off our tail, but I'd probably get fired for endangering Drew’s life.
I took turn after turn, went this way and that, driving in circles and zig-zagging through all of Burbank. Then finally, after three quick rights and an even quicker left, followed by a little speeding, we lost the guy.
"Remind me to never pick you up at your house again," I said as we finally headed in the right direction.
"Remind me to never go home again."
Fifteen minutes later,we were hiding the cameras and bugs in the safe house. Drew put the plant up above the cupboards in the kitchen while I checked the app on my phone connected to the lens to make sure it was in the right place.
"Can you move it just a few inches to the right?" I asked. The image on the screen shifted until it caught the whole room. "Right there."
Drew stepped down from the chair he'd been using and scooted it back under the table. "Where do you think we should put the last bug?" he asked, pulling the tiny device out of the bag.
I chewed on my lip, looking around the house. We'd already planted one under the table, another under the arm of the leather sofa. "Let's put it in the hall by the bedroom. They'll probably be walking back there too." I hated the thought of how Drew probably felt about this whole thing.
Drew hid the bug behind one of the art pieces in the hall, a painting of a couple walking hand in hand by a pond.
"Sorry you have to deal with this," I said as I watched him. "But I really appreciate you coming. It would have taken me forever to get everything set up and adjusted myself."
"No problem." He turned back to me with a smile, like he really didn't mind spending the afternoon bugging a house to catch his ex-girlfriend cheating on him.
"But it has to suck, right? Knowing what's going to happen here?"
Drew shrugged and leaned against the wall. "It's actually okay. I was shocked and hurt when I first found out. But things never would have worked out between me and Gwen. I'd been worried the whole time I'd never get there with her."
"’Get there’?" I looked up at him. "What do you mean by that?"
He stuck his thumbs in his belt loops and pushed the tips of his fingers in his front pockets. And I loved how even though he was a fancy billionaire now, he looked just as good in blue jeans as he did in an expensive suit.
"I don't know. I just…” He sighed. “I wasn't anywhere close to being ready to get down on one knee. I couldn't even tell her that I loved her."
"You never told her that?" My eyes widened.
He'd been thinking about proposing when he couldn't even say those three words to Gwen?
Drew looked at the carpet before meeting my gaze. "I never felt it." He paused, seeming to debate whether to say what was on his mind. "I— Actually, I don't say those words very often."
He didn’t?
"What exactly does that mean?” I couldn’t help but ask. “Like, how many girls have you said that to?"
He scrubbed a hand over his face, clearly uncomfortable. I felt bad for asking him such a personal question. I was just about to tell him it was none of my business when he sighed and said, "Only my mom…and that's usually when she says it first." He pushed himself off the wall and walked down the hall toward the living room.
Had I just embarrassed him with my questions?
