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“Wigs?” he looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “What do you need wigs for? Your hair is perfectly fine.”
My dark hair is long and blown out, which took over three hours to do this week. I run my hand through my hair and purse my lips.
“You don’t know anything about it, because you’re a man. But I put a ton of time and energy into getting my hair to look… how did you put it? ‘Perfectly fine’.”
He shifts in his seat and runs his fingers over his tie. “If I agree to take you home to pack, you’ll come with me to Scotland with no more argument. Is that what you’re saying?”
A tiny part of me tells me to say no. Between the weird conversation I had with my dad and seeing the blackmailing journalist get hit by a car, my head is spinning. But Keir is staring me down, expecting me to say yes. And if I’m honest, it sounds way more exciting to go to Scotland than back to my crappy apartment.
“Well?” he demands.
“Fine,” I relent.
“Driver!” Keir calls out. He lowers the partition and jerks his head to me. “We’re making a stop before the airport. Ella, tell him your address.”
Fifteen minutes later, I am sliding out of the back of the limo. Keir rolls down his window, calling after me as I head to my front door.
“Twenty minutes! After that, I’m coming in to get you. Don’t make me wait.”
I raise my hand and flip him the bird, bristling as I get my door open. As I head inside, I might have actually heard a chuckle coming from the limo. Shutting the door, I put my face in my hands and take a deep breath.
Straightening, I lean over and can just make out the time. If I’m quick with packing, I can probably call either Kaia or Joy. Those two are my usual partners in crime and my confidantes.
The thing is, though, I’m pretty mad at Kaia still. And Joy…
I haven’t talked to her since Daddy told me that she has cancer. After the day I’ve had, I can’t trust myself not to break down when I hear her voice.
I pack as quickly as I can. Traveling back and forth to Atlanta every couple of months has actually prepared me for this moment. I sprint through the process and zip my second suitcase in less than five minutes.
My phone buzzes on my bed. It’s a video call from Kaia, my best friend and one-time competition for ballet solos. I blanch; within a year, we are both out of the spotlight, no longer dancing at the New York Ballet.
Her first two calls of the day went to voicemail. For a few brief seconds, I almost let the third one go the same way.
But at the last moment, I pick up the video call. Kaia is there, looking pretty and blonde, her cheeks blushing a becoming pink. She looks at me, her expression concerned.
“Ella! Are you okay?”
I screw up my face. “Not really.”
“I am so sorry about Keir. I had no idea he was married. If I knew, I never would have tried to matchmake. That’s not my style at all.”
I suck in a breath, trying to decide how much to tell her.
Not everything.
At least not right now.
“Keir is taking me to Scotland for a while.”
Confusion spreads across her face. “Wait, what? Are you going as his au pair? Or did you two really hit it off?”
I hesitate. Mostly, I don’t want to actually lie to Kaia. She’s my best friend and I have no intention of misleading her.
She misreads my hesitation, her eyebrows flying up. “Are you freaking kidding me right now? Sex with Keir was so good that you actually think that there might be something between you two?”
Images flash in my brain, unbidden. Moaning, hips jerking, the taste of Keir’s naked skin.
“No, no,” I correct her quickly. “It’s just business between us. Trust me, Keir is a total jerk.”
