At least he’s in bed when I wake up in the morning with a dull white light flowing in, illuminating every hard ridge and nick in his skin that makes him so unbearably beautiful.
And so deserving of much more.
I’m reaching out to stroke his back when he turns over. His steely jade-blue eyes greet me with a massive yawn.
“Morning. My back feels tight.” Ward sits up and turns his head from side to side with an audible crunch. “Shit. My neck hates me too.”
“You want a massage?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
He’s not good.
There has to be something I can do.
It’s not just the latest ambush from Victor and Giselle. He’s withdrawn so much this past week, and after we’ve moved past this hoax to something approaching real.
If he doesn’t get out of his head, I’ll lose him, and it’s all that’s on my mind as we dive back into another grinding day.
We work fourteen hours straight, fielding design questions for the Winthrope team, and negotiation contracts for several smaller clients. Even Nick seems on edge, growlier than usual, and Ward only speaks to me if he needs a file or a follow-up.
We’re practically limping through the door of the penthouse that night with a packaged meal from Grayson waiting when he starts for his office.
“Hold up! Haven’t you worked enough today?” I call after him.
“The other work isn’t done till it’s done,” he says with a grimness that leaves no doubt what that other work is.
This quest to put away his parents is killing him.
I close my eyes, dreading what I’m about to say.
“Look, I know your cup runneth over with the parentals going rancid, but it’s just...you’re very distant, Ward. After you invited me to live with you—live like a real couple—I thought—”
His brisk movement doesn’t let me finish.
Ward turns away from his office, steps back to me, and presses his lips to my forehead with a searing force that scares me. “I’m sorry for worrying you. I just need time. There’s a hell of a lot going on right now, Paige, and everything on the line.”
I nod. I get it.
“I could help if you’d let me—”
“No. Not this. I promise you, we’ll be in the clear soon enough, and you’ll be richer and drama free.” His eyes fill mine with total assurance.
That’s the thing. I don’t want to be done with this. I don’t want it to end if shedding the drama means losing him.
But I don’t have the energy for more words, and he goes to his office without waiting for me to speak. My stomach twists.
If I don’t find a way to help him out of this insanity, there’s no future for us.
“Think, Paige. There has to be a way,” I whisper to myself, mulling everything over.
The Brandt-Simms ex power couple are both manipulative, self-centered, and skate the law like an ice rink. Blackmail seems to be their go-to, but what if we flipped it around?
There must be something on Victor and Giselle we can hold over them.
Something that would make them shut up and disappear.
Cracking open a blood orange kombucha drink from the fridge, I take a biting sip and let it fill me with determination to hop on my laptop.
An hour later, I’m frowning.
Nothing new comes up in search that isn’t already common knowledge. Victor has a few DUIs and misdemeanors for disorderly conduct. I hate drunk drivers, but a ticket for hitting a tree while drunk is nothing compared to drowning a beloved actor.
Giselle was rumored to have been an uptown madam for a while after her divorce, but there’s no hard evidence and no prostitution busts. I also doubt she’d care if I could prove it.
They’re both self-propelled nightmares. There has to be something else.
I need help, but since this is beyond Brina’s skillset...
I glance at the time, grateful it’s a couple hours earlier in California.
My cousin, Liv, answers on the first ring. “Paige? Holy crap, it’s been forever!”
“I know, lady. I miss you. Still killing it with your books?”
There’s a long pause on the other end where I can imagine her awkward, giddy smile. “The latest was on The New York Times list for ten weeks! So, um, I guess you could say that. Turns out people really love grumpy single dads in small-town sagas.”
“Way to slay, cuz. Can’t wait to see your stuff on Netflix someday.” And I totally believe I will.
“Oh, Paige, I can’t imagine! I’m flattered, but...something tells me this isn’t why you called, is it?”