Chapter Twenty-Five
Jules laid a wad of bills on the table. The resort might insist on comping everything from her stay to her meals, but she doubted they were as generous with the workforce that kept the place running smoothly.
She plastered an angelic smile on her face, directed her ire toward Rhys, and ignored Abigail. They’d teamed up against her. Jules needed a different approach if she had any chance of spending the next week on her island vacation with Rhys.
They hadn’t even slept together. It was stupid, especially after what had transpired earlier with Chad Montgomery, but that was the first thought she had. A dull ache thudded in her chest. She wasn’t ready for this game with Rhys to end. “In no uncertain terms am I flying to Virginia tonight.”
“Well, you’re not going home,” Rhys countered.
“And you’re not staying here,” Abigail added.
Titan was going to pack her into a lonely safe house filled with granola and board games.
Security cameras would follow her every move.
Not to mention Rhys would be on his home turf.
He wouldn’t stay with her. They might not even speak of this week ever again.
“Then I’ll take my honeymoon-turned-sister-moon-turned-paparazzi-stunt to another island.
Or Europe.” He’d have to go with her. Yes, it was a little—or a lot—pathetic, but that was between her and her thoughts.
“It might not be all fun in the sun, but I am not hiding.”
“Yeah, you are, sweetness.”
Jules glared at the nickname. Abigail grinned.
Rhys leaned back in his chair as though the decision had been made. “Titan has a private jet waiting for you once we finish dinner.”
Was he even traveling with her? The dull ache in her chest seeped into her stomach. The dread was spreading. She needed to order another dessert. Anything to buy time and figure out a way to finagle what she wanted.
“Rhys or I will pack your belongings,” Abigail added. “Then I’ll stay on the island for a few days and keep up the ruse that you’re here.”
“What? No.”
Abigail nodded. “Yup.”
Jules squared her shoulders. “Absolutely not. You won’t be safe—”
“See?” Abigail pointed at her like Jules was Exhibit A. “You just said you’re not safe here.”
Jules groaned. She’d walked into that. “I’m not leaving you here as bait. There’s literally zero chance we’re doing this. You two can figure something else out, but I’m not trading my safety for Abs’s.”
“We already have it covered.” The corners of Rhys’s mouth tipped up. His knowing smile danced with an unwavering confidence that promised he would get his way. What Jules wouldn’t do to wipe that look off his face.
“Wes is flying down,” he said, checking his watch. “Correction. He’s already here. He’ll stay with Abs then fly her home when she’s ready.”
Abigail rubbed her hands together. “There’s a nice backlog of accounts payable and receivable to enter. It’ll be like a welcome home gift.”
Jules grumbled. “Don’t be weird when you’re throwing me under the bus.”
“Don’t act like a spoiled Hollywood star when you’re mostly not.”
Her nose wrinkled. “Mostly?”
“Yeah, mostly.” Rhys crossed his arms.
Her shoulders dropped. “Why not Italy?” She and Rhys had a favorite cheese shop in Tuscany. “Cozumel? Austin, Texas? I don’t know.”
“No one would think to look for you in Virginia,” Rhys said. “And you’ll be in our hands. Titan has a network that will keep you protected.”
With security cameras, board games, granola, and no fake boyfriend. She twisted her napkin in her lap, wishing they at least had a chance to discuss the end of their vacation together. Would he talk about it on the jet? Maybe they’d have a chance before he stashed her somewhere.
“Was that a pout?” Abigail asked Rhys. “I’m pretty sure I saw a pout. Did you see it, Rhys?”
She twisted the napkin tighter. “I’m not pouting.”
He laughed. “No comment.”
“No comment is bodyguard code for yes, pouting.”
Rhys and Abigail weren’t even close. Jules was closer to mourning the end of her fake relationship than pouting.
“Jules?” Rhys asked, pulling her from her feelings.
Her eyes locked on his, and her stomach flipped.
That was the biggest problem of all. She wouldn’t have the excuse of paparazzi or the time lock of a vacation to wrap her arms around Rhys.
Her heart squiggled, something like a squeeze and a shudder.
She wasn’t ready for it to be over. She didn’t know what to do with that.
“You’ve been to Virginia,” Abigail said. “It’s not like they’re dropping you in Death Valley without a water bottle.”
“I’m not opposed to the state on principle.
” She sipped her water. Virginia didn’t bother her.
She’d seen bits of it after flying into Washington, DC, for an event with her mom and driving to North Carolina to film a miniseries.
That had been years ago, when Jules was finding her footing, but the trip had been more about mother-daughter bonding than the acting gig.
They’d even made a spontaneous stop at an amusement park outside of Richmond and ridden roller coasters until they puked.
“Maybe Mom could fly out and hang with me. She could work, and I could…”
What did she do when she wasn’t preparing for a role? Nothing Margot had pitched had caught her attention. Nothing excited Jules lately and, if she was being honest, for a while. But when she stayed busy, that didn’t matter.
“You won’t tell your parents right away.”
That snapped Jules back. “I’m sorry. What?”
“I’ll tell them I’m home,” Abigail volunteered. “I’ll say I was called back to work, and you’re traveling with Rhys.”
Jules raised her eyebrows. “What kind of boat sales emergency would pull you home from vacation?”
Abigail snorted. “Um, hello. Have you met me? They know I’d rather be with my spreadsheets than on the beach.”
Fighting this would only call attention to what she didn’t need him to figure out. Breathing slower, she painted on the best calm, cool, and collected expression she could manage. “I have been meaning to find a good book and just hide away somewhere to read.”
Rhys grinned triumphantly. “I know a fantastic librarian. It’s like she can read your mind and—” He snapped his fingers. “Find the perfect book.”
Oh, good, sweet baby sky daddy, don’t let anyone read my mind.