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Ben is about eight feet away from me when the flashbulb goes off.
“Abbey!” someone else yells. “Abbey, give a smile!”
My forehead grooves as I look around in confusion.
Then I spot him. The photographer.
No. That’s too generous a term.
He’s a vulture. Paparazzi. I grew up with those bloodthirsty vultures circling my father each time he left the house. I’d recognize them anywhere.
Another flashbulb goes off. Then another.
Deep dread crawls up my spine. Ben has stopped in his tracks, his expression going stricken when he realizes his picture is being taken.
“Abbey!”
Flash.
“Does Gunner know about you and Lord Tulley?”
Flash.Flash.
“Abbey! C’mon, darling, smile!”
Feeling the color drain from my face, I grab Lee’s arm and dig my fingernails into it. “Get me out of here,” I beg. “Please.”
Luckily, the car Jamie hired is pulling up to the curb.
Lee snaps to action. “Get in,” he commands. “Jamie, let’s go, mate.”
Jamie throws his coat over my shoulders and helps me into the car, with Lee sliding in beside us.
“Notting Hill,” Jamie tells the driver.
It isn’t until we’re speeding off that I realize we’d left Jack and Nate there.
But I’m too shaken to care right now.
39
THERE ARE A PRECIOUS FEW SECONDS OF BLISSFUL IGNORANCE BEFOREthe memories of last night present themselves forward. It wasn’t a dream. I am the girl who spent the evening barricaded in Lord Tulley’s bathroom. I’ll never show myself among noble society again.
Can’t say I’m too bummed about that bit.
Downstairs, I prepare myself to take a ribbing from the guys as I walk into the kitchen for breakfast. Having all night to stew about it, I’m sure Lee has a few more I-told-you-sos to get out of his system, not to mention a thorough interrogation about my relationship with Nate. He was so upset about my secret keeping that he went back to the pub after we got home last night, where I’m sure he griped about me to some poor bartender trapped behind the bar.
“Morning.” I sit at the breakfast bar beside Jamie. He gives me a shoulder squeeze while Lee remains mute, sipping his tea like I’m not there.
Jack pushes eggs and sausage on a plate for me. “Morning,” he murmurs to me, watching Lee from the corner of his eye.
“Everything okay?” I ask warily. “I know last night was a bit chaotic, but— ”
“House meeting!” Lee interrupts, shooting to his feet.
“What?”
Arms crossed, he looms over us with a hard glare. “We’re having a house meeting, Abigail. Right now.”
