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If I stay, he loses his money, I lose the show, and everyone I’ve spent the last few months working with loses their chance. If I go, I lose Émile.
It should be simple. So, so simple.
ButfuckI want to be selfish.
“We need an answer, Christian.” Her voice has softened, eyes turning sincere. Because she knows there’s only one choice here.
I swallow roughly, and nod. “You win.”
“I always do.”
Chapter 29
Émile
Christian’s disappeared on me. I don’t think much of it at first, he’s a grown man and he can navigate a room, but the longer I go without seeing him, the more unsettled I become.
“Have you seen Christian?” I ask Elle, and her gaze pings away from me to scan the room.
“He was right here, wasn’t he?”
“That’s what I thought, but I haven’t seen him for a while now.”
We both push onto our toes to search the room, but I can’t spot him anywhere. He’d be easy to spot too, with those wild curls on top of his head.
“Should I be worried?” I ask, even as concern clogs my throat.
“Of course not.” She doesn’t sound convinced. “Maybe he went to the bathroom?”
“For this long?”
“It’s possible your lie to Bernie jinxed him?” I think she believes that as much as I do. But we check the bathrooms, andI even go so far as to look into the toilet stalls, and to check the shoes on the person in the occupied one.
Not him.
I walk back out, raking my fingers through my hair. “You don’t think he’s left, do you?”
“Call him?”
It’s loud in here, but I still make out the phone signal over all the noise. And the moment it cuts to his voicemail.
“No answer.”
“Okay, nowI’mstarting to get worried.” Elle’s runs her hand over her head. “Why would he leave?”
I pointlessly look around again, because there’s no reason he would have. He was happy to play along, maybe even enjoying himself so far as you can get enjoyment out of a night like this.
Did someone say something to upset him? If they did, surely he would have come to me instead of running off. It’s our thing. He gets upset, I comfort him and remind him everything is going to be okay.
“Fuck, what if there was an emergency?” I ask.
“Why wouldn’t he tell you before he left?”
“Well, if one of his friends got hurt, or …” I’m grasping at straws, but it could happen. It would be the most likely explanation, given his sudden disappearance and not answering my calls. It comforts me for all of two seconds and then I feel like a shit for hoping that’s the case, when it means something dreadful.
“Émile?”
I turn to find Darcy approaching. He looks like a million dollars in his tux, and while I’m sure we could have had a perfectly plain and boring life together, I’d rather disappear off the face of this earth than make my family happy by marrying him.
