Chapter Seventeen
SEVENTEEN
ROXIE AND ZAIRN’S WEDDING sounded wonderful. So much so that she was sorry to have missed it. Eating dinner with Cam’s family was eye-opening. She ate dinner with him and the guys plenty, but this gave her a glimpse at where he’d come from.
Of the group, Roxie was the most recent addition to his life, though she’d been in it for a couple of years. And there was something about Roxie, an acceptance that brought her into the fold like they’d been family all along.
Roxie leaned to the side, bumping her husband with a shoulder. “I’m in an Italian mood, Casanova.”
Turning his head, Zairn rested his nose in Roxie’s hair for a few lingering seconds before standing up. “Gin and It for all. Want to sit outside?”
The others rose from the dinner table too, so she copied.
“There are ears outside,” Knox said, directing the group to the living room.
There were ears in there too. The difference, she guessed, was they were trusted ears. Though, in honesty, she wasn’t sure she was ready for a conversation that required so much trust that even the trees weren’t allowed to hear it.
“Hatfield called,” Roxie said, settling herself in the loveseat with its back to the front window.
In the kitchen, Zairn spun a bottle in his palm. “Hatfield always calls, Lo.”
Tripp dropped into the loveseat by Roxie. “It’s weird how many horny men call your wife hoping today will be the day.”
“If the criteria was not wanting sex with me, you and Knox would be the only men I’d hear from…”
“If you carried a phone,” Tripp muttered.
Roxie continued. “And Knox never calls me.” As though for reassurance, Roxie added, “Cam doesn’t count, Ariella, honey, he doesn’t want to sleep with anyone. Huh…” The beauty paused. “Now you’re in his life, that’s not true anymore.”
Tripp wasn’t satisfied. “Kintyre wouldn’t sleep with you, Rox Out.”
Wriggling her shoulders, Roxie added a confident faux hair toss. “Because he’s married, not because he doesn’t want to.”
“Should I tell them you wanted a threesome, LoLo?” Zairn asked from the kitchen.
“To gather intel not because I lost my mind.”
“With Reid?” Tripp laughed. “Merci told me about that. For the record, I don’t think he’s gay, but refusing a piece like Merci… I get why it was on the table. Darroch wouldn’t sleep with you, Rox.”
“Gauge might,” Cam said. “Old-skool Gauge.”
“Old-skool everyone would sleep with her,” Tripp conceded. “Old-skool everyone would sleep with anyone.”
“So we add the criteria of ‘uninvolved’ men,” Roxie said, sinking against the backrest in a full body sigh. “Ballard thought I was propositioning him once.”
“Ballard thinks you’re propositioning him all the time,” her husband returned. “A lot of what you say sounds like a proposition.”
“‘Cause she talks about sex so much.”
Roxie gasped at Tripp. “Says Kettle… Remember when Ogilvie asked to see me naked?”
“Yeah, I almost decked the guy,” Zairn said. “After all this time, you’re still never careful with that mouth.”
As Roxie’s smile slunk up, Zairn paused in his mixing to meet her eye. And, okay, she was seeing something she absolutely shouldn’t be seeing.
“Maybe I need a lesson on how to behave, Husband.”
“Are we going to get on with this shit?” an impatient and unimpressed Knox asked.
Roxie sat up straight, linking her arm through Tripp’s. “Sourpuss.”
“Options?” Tripp asked, getting serious.
He looked weird frowning. She’d known him less than a day, but it unsettled her.
“A tell-all,” Knox said. “We bring in Woo—”
“Crosby is my friend,” Roxie said. “If you’re going down that route.”
“Crosby is a nobody.”
Zairn approached with a tray of drinks. “Crosby is not your friend, Lo. If you keep saying that to people, I’m going to lock you in the dungeon.”
“You keep promising me this dungeon, Lover.” Pushing back her shoulders, Roxie took a drink from the tray as Tripp did the same. “When do you plan to deliver?”
He glanced back over his shoulder at his wife as he distributed drinks to the rest of them. “Tell me Crosby’s your friend one more time.”
It was nice to see Tripp relaxing, resting back to enjoy his drink. “Crosby wants to sleep with you, Rox Out.”
“Because he wants the story,” Knox said. “You’ve got to watch that guy.”
“I’m watching, I’m watching,” Roxie said. “I assume the rest of you are thinking Keller. Is Kesley in town?”
“Yeah,” Zairn said, snagging the armchair. “We don’t need her.”
“We talk of guys who want to sleep with Rox Out and dismiss Kesley who would honestly slit Roxie’s throat if she thought it would get her Zairn back.”
“It’s not my fault his mechanics are faithful,” Roxie declared. “Kesley loves me. She’s my sister wife. There’s just a slight sex imbalance. And we do need her. We also need that hockey guy who loves my ass.”
Tripp’s laugh was kind of a scoff. “That narrows down the list.”
“Myles Gesner? He got traded.”
Roxie wasn’t quick to accept that. “Was he really or are you just saying that because he likes my caboose?”
“That’s my caboose to stare at,” Zairn said. “And he can be traded… I’ll make a call.”
“A tell-all,” Knox announced tossing a glare at Roxie.
The beauty held up a hand. “Okay, we need a timeout.” She handed her drink off to Tripp and stood up to offer Knox her wiggling fingers. “Caucus time.”
Knox didn’t hesitate to get up and join their hands to disappear down the stairs. Silence hung for a second.
“Is there a problem there?” Ariella asked.
“They butt heads sometimes,” Tripp explained. “It’s their way to let off steam. When something is tense or stressful, they snipe at each other because they can’t trust to snipe at others.”
“You know…” Cam pondered, sort of amazed. “That’s exactly what it is. They’re a safe space for each other.”
“They can gripe and moan, snap and snark, but they love each other at the end of the day.”
“They’re as close as siblings who aren’t blood.”
And as the glass rose to Zairn’s lips, he hid an emerging smile with a sip.
“Who is Woo?” she asked given there was a chance to breathe.
“Beverley Woo,” Cam said, hand on her thigh. “She’s a producer who works with Karryn Keller.”
Now that was a name she knew, everyone knew. “The interviewer? I’m not doing an interview with Karryn Keller. She’s like… the heavyweight of heavyweights.”
“If you get the truth out there, it will become old news. You give them it all and there’s no room for further speculation.”
“It’s not my place—I mean, I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
That narrowed Zairn’s keen eyes. “What did you sign?”
“What? Nothing! I—”
“If there’s paperwork, we need to see it.” Zairn retrieved his phone. “Dunlap can be here in a couple of hours.”
“Was there a prenup?”
This was happening fast.
Cam’s fingers tensed and loosened. “We can protect you,” he said. “If you want to stay in hiding, we can keep you safe and out of sight.”
What would she do? Live in a cave for the rest of her life? The guys didn’t think that was a good idea. That much was obvious from the expressions surrounding her.
“You want anyone to control the story, there’s no one better than the Colliers.”
Of course Tripp would have faith in his friends.
It wasn’t that she didn’t have faith in them.
This was a mindset. She didn’t think of herself as living in hiding, not exactly.
Yeah, she kept her head down, but hadn’t worried about going into a coffee shop or buying a magazine.
Her “story” wasn’t in the public mind right now and her appearance had matured since her teen years.
And she was more than a thousand miles from where it happened.
No one was looking for her. Keeping to herself, going about her life, there would be no confrontation or pursuit.
This was only a thing because of the people in this room.
Cam, and by extension, Knox, Roxie, Zairn, faces in the public eye.
Her face next to theirs could lead to questions.
Leaving Cam and Boston would be easier than standing her ground. So she should go. That was it. Decision made.
All she had to do was stand up and walk out. Say thank you very much and goodbye. She’d never see any of them again, their paths would never cross.
Good. Sensible choice.
Except…
What precedent did this set? Walking away now meant giving into fear. She’d done nothing wrong. Nothing illegal. No official anyone would seek her out.
Fear. It was insane but she kept looking around for Spence.
Not because she trusted him more than Cam, no.
It was just experience that this kind of thing was Spence’s purview, he made these decisions.
He decided they should leave together, the when, the where, the how.
This wasn’t usually her jam; for the first time her past was asserting itself without him.
If she let fear win now, it would conquer her for life.
She’d be admitting defeat, admitting the decision she made as a teenager would define the rest of her life.
What if, down the line, she met someone else with a well-known face?
It didn’t have to be a celebrity like Roxie, it could be anyone in business, or the public eye, someone known in the community.
If she upset or angered that person, which let’s face it, was likely, anyone could ask questions, anyone could go to the press. And if a hungry reporter came looking…?
How many times could she start over? What did that mean for marriage or children? Was she destined to live the rest of her life alone?
Fear.
This was inevitably going to happen someday. Wouldn’t it be better to face it head on than wait for someone to drop the axe?
Maybe.
Where would she go? If she walked out right now, where would she go? Who would she meet next? She trusted Cam, completely, yet she hadn’t uttered a word of her history until after being found out. Would she ever be honest? With the world? With herself?
“I don’t want to be the story again,” she murmured, her eyes stuck on the coffee table as her lips dried. Her reluctance was stark. Still, she forced herself to shift her whole body toward Cam. “I’ve never done this without Spencer.”
God, she didn’t want to hurt him.
Didn’t she know him better than that? This was Cam. He’d never be offended by the truth.
Rather than show hurt or anger, he smiled and cupped her cheek. “You are strong enough to take on anything. And I’ll be here…” His thumb tracked across her cheek. “I’ll always be here, Candy. You’re not doing this alone. No one will abandon you.”
“I don’t want to do a formal interview, not off the bat like that. I don’t want to be seen to capitalize on—I never wanted publicity. Neither of us wanted that. For a decade, I’ve shunned the limelight. I don’t know how to embrace it.”
It scared her. There was fear again, cropping up at the most inconvenient moment. She couldn’t be driven by it.
“You’ll learn.” When she turned, Roxie was at the top of the stairs with Knox at her back. “And you don’t have to embrace it.” The beauty came to sit at her side. “All you have to do is tolerate it. Smile.”
Knox sat in the other armchair. “But don’t look smug.”
“Relax,” Roxie added.
“But not too much.” When Roxie landed a glare on Knox, he blinked in innocence. “She has to know the playing field. Don’t be na?ve, you have enemies out there, Ariella. We all have enemies out there.”
“Jane has no enemies,” Tripp said, amusement flavoring his smirk. “People know better than that.”
“Damn right,” Knox said, fierce in his certainty.
Roxie exhaled and found her smile again. “Ignore all the talk, Ariella. We’re going to take our time, we won’t rush anything. A friend of mine will be here tomorrow. We’ll talk to her, just you and me. Keep this simple.”
“Cameras don’t—”
“No cameras. Just a conversation. Say what you want, there’s no pressure and nothing you say will be shared, not until you’re completely comfortable.”
“It’s a good plan,” Knox said. “Rox’ll ease you into it and that gives us time to do the opp research.”
“Which is what?”
“Dirt,” Tripp explained. “We need to know what people know so we’re not blindsided. True or not, the best defense is an offense.”
“You want to release the dirt? My dirt?”
“Or spin it,” Knox said. “We’ll need someone to handle the Raiths.”
That took everyone’s focus to Tripp, though hers was last to track because… Why?
The half smile Tripp wore was as relaxed as his loose body. “Guess I’ll be calling Dad.”
“Mimi will know things,” Roxie said. “If we have to fire back.”
“She’s not the only one,” Cam murmured.
“You’re thinking Olive?” Knox asked. “If we get them both together…”
“They’ll have a strategy of their own.”
“That mean we’re taking this on the road?” Tripp asked. “Last I heard Olive Deveraux was camped in LA.”
“We’ll worry about that later,” Knox said. “Right now, tomorrow’s the plan.”
“Honey?” Zairn asked.
Roxie nodded. “Right. Me and Ariella will meet with Honey.”
“While Cam and I meet with Beverley. Tripp’ll stir up sources.”
“Tripp doesn’t share confidential information,” Roxie said, fixed on her. “But he’ll get us reliable sources who’ll come forward on their own with corroboration.”
“If needed.”
“Right…” Roxie batted her eyelashes at Zairn. “And my loving husband doesn’t shy from doing what needs to be done. If the need should arise. He is less precious than Tripp.”
“I’m not precious.”
Roxie sailed on by that assertion. “We’ve called a bunch of people in. Hatfield will be doing interviews in the club all day, that’ll keep him busy.”
Zairn tucked his phone away. “I can go over there and—”
“No,” Roxie said. “Stay away from my crew. We’re saving that intervention for the crucial moment. Tomorrow, your job’s distracting the paps from all the activity. Why did you come to Boston? That’s a question they’ll be asking themselves.”
“You set me up on a date with my ex-girlfriend again,” Zairn said and breathed out, “didn’t you?”
Roxie was all optimism. “At least this time you know in advance.”
“You’re lucky I love you, LoLo.”
Gliding to her feet, Roxie coasted across the room to sink into her husband’s lap. “Yes, Casanova, I am lucky that I love you.”
Their kiss was slow, though not discreet. Their bond of trust seemed unshakeable. Was that true or just for show?
Show.
There would be one of those when this cart hit the track. Was this a good idea… or the biggest mistake of her life? Did this ride have an emergency stop button?