THIRTY-SIX
“YOU WANT SOME space?” Zairn asked after at least a minute of silence.
Rather than answer, she strode into the bedroom. Knowing Struan would follow, she didn’t close the door. On the money, when she turned on the spot, he was with her.
She shared her conclusion. “I have to go home.”
“Okay. I thought this was home.”
“I don’t mean the apartment.”
As he caught on to her meaning, sorrow built in her gut.
“Wishbone,” he murmured.
“Wishbone. It’ll be better for everyone.”
“Everyone who?” Her guy didn’t often lose his patience, but he was ragged then. “It’s happening all over again. This is him getting his way, bullying us into—”
“He’s not bullying us into anything or getting his way.” She went to snag his hand. “This isn’t over, I’m not leaving you, not saying goodbye. God, no. We’re together.” Smiling, she used her body to nudge his, hoping to scare that grim look from his face. “So don’t go sniffing around any Hollywood pussy while I’m at my mom’s.”
“Then why go now? We need to stand together, to be strong, to show them we’re serious.”
“If there’s one thing Roxie’s taught me, it’s that we shouldn’t care what the world out there thinks.” Catching his hands, she cupped them around the sides of her head. “This is for us. We make the decisions that best suit us.”
“Being away from you isn’t my choice. Damnit, B, we left that house. I walked away.”
“I know and I appreciate it. I know what you did for me, beau. But Magnus is right.”
“Don’t let him get in your head.”
“It’s difficult to be objective when it’s your family, when you care so much about your brother. Tell me honestly how this plays out. If I keep you away from him right now, before he’s settled in this new role, he’ll spiral, just like Magnus said. He’s out of rehab, teetering on the edge of sobriety, playing with what it means every day to suit his mood. Sway’s walked away. She had to; good for her. Thank God she’s free—”
“But I shouldn’t be?”
“You’re free and you have me,” she said, squeezing him tighter. “I am your future, what you have to look forward to without an expiry date. You don’t have to live with him; you live here, remember?” Though the show was leaving town the next day. “It’s not going back to Roman, just get this pilot out the way, maybe an episode or two of UO, line someone else up to take your place. Show Roman he can do this… then you back away and come be with me.”
For a few seconds, he considered her. “I want to argue with you,” he said, his features suggesting he was pissed off. “But, goddamnit, I know you’re right too. If I walk away now and he loses everything, for the rest of his life, he gets to blame it on me.”
Unfairly.
“He’s responsible for his own future, as you are yours.”
“I choose you, not him.”
And that she didn’t doubt. “Looking back, I realize now I agreed to this for all the wrong reasons,” she whispered. “It wasn’t conscious, but it was always about being close to you. We thought this crazy scheme could improve his image and do him some favors, but it just distracted him and everyone else from what’s important.”
Struan sighed. “If he wants his career so bad, he has to put in the work. No more nights out and parties, dinners and dates and compromising positions. He wants to be known for his talent? It’s time he got back to the roots of that. Sometimes I can’t remember if he has any.”
And it just so happened, in this plan, she would be saved from spending more time with him. Perhaps by disappearing into the ether, the public would forget she’d ever been connected to Roman Lowe and wouldn’t care when she got with Struan. Unless he was planning a career on stage or screen, why would anyone notice they’d got together, or remember how they’d met?
Roxie would argue there was always someone watching, someone waiting to stir up shit. Reporters might dig, and they were the epitome of stirrers, without a doubt.
“What about Brooker?”
Yeah, that might take some finagling. “If I still have a job at Brooker, I haven’t heard from anyone there for a while. Mostly I’m just following Mieux around these days.”
“When you’re attached to one of the big names, I don’t think they ask you to punch a clock.”
“They might have work I can do remotely, or, you know, the people there don’t always stick with the same company or client long term. If my role at Undercover Ops isn’t working out, maybe they can reassign me. I don’t want to take advantage of anyone, but Roxie said she’d help, and I guarantee Brooker will listen to her.”
“She sizes people up fast. Don’t underestimate her.” Would anyone ever be so stupid? Roman, maybe. “It feels like I just got you and now you’re walking away.”
“You have my number, we’re not losing each other, just putting some miles between us for the sake of the family you love. When the time is right, we’ll figure this out.”
Those three words, again. Not everything had to be done in a day, but it seemed like it could be taken apart that quickly.
Someone came to join them: Roxie.
“Hmm, huh, not to eavesdrop, ‘cause that’s something I don’t believe in,” Roxie said only to be followed by a short burst of laughter from the next room. “Ignore him…” Dismissing him with a wave over her shoulder, she came closer. “Did I hear Wishbone? You’re not going back to backwater cocoon world.” She raised a hand. “Sorry, that was rude. I’m a Chicago girl and if anyone insulted my hometown, well… let’s just say that would be their last act on this earth.”
“Not much worth visiting there!”
Her head snapped to the side. “You’re already in the doghouse, Casanova!”
“Gotta make it worth it, Lo.”
Softening her smile, Roxie came to take her hand. “You’re coming to New York with us.”
“What?”
“You don’t want to go back to Smalltown: Unknown, with all the questions and the gossip. Plus…” When Roxie winced, she glanced at Struan. “Where’s the protection from the paps?”
“She’s right. You’ll be safer there.”
“You can stay at Crimson Palace with us. Tripp has a place there, we’ll all look out for you until your guy’s ready to join you.”
If anything, Struan seemed more confident with this second option. “No one can get to you there.”
Roxie leaned in. “And New York is actually kinda fun,” she whispered.
“Heard that!” Another call from the other room.
Roxie wrinkled her nose, but her expression quickly loosened. “Ignore him, he’s looking for some action. He’ll calm down in a minute. What do you say? Are you in?”
New York. Far from home. Far from Struan. With him in Vancouver or LA, there wasn’t much distance between them if she wanted to get to him fast. New York was…
“You guys want to see this…”
The note of concern in Tripp’s voice was so unusual, it scared her. Struan hooked an arm around her to lead her back to the living room. Everyone crowded around Zairn’s phone.
“…answers here today…” the reporter on screen said. “It’s quite a contrast to Bambi in the big city.”
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “That’s Wishbone.” Right over the reporter’s shoulder was the lake. “She’s in—why is she in Wishbone?”
“It’s not just her,” Zairn said, minimizing the screen to step away. “There’s a few people there.”
“Why?” she asked, her chest tightening. “Oh, God, I have to talk to my mom.”
“Chances are they’ve already made contact,” Tripp said. “No one called?”
The pile of bags was exactly where they’d been dropped when she and Struan arrived. Rummaging through them to her purse, she pulled out her phone and held it up.
“It’s dead.”
“Always knew you had taste, Struan,” Roxie said, proud. “That’s my kind of girl.”
“Let’s hope this is a one-off and Rox Out isn’t contagious,” Tripp said, relieving her of the phone to take it into the bedroom.
“I can’t go to New York. I can’t abandon my family! Why would the reporters—”
“Because you’re hot, honey,” Roxie explained. “That kiss last night, on the red carpet, was so out there people are talking about it.”
Exactly what she didn’t want. Running her hands over her hair, she buried her face against Struan. This wasn’t what he needed either. How could he go back to his brother when this drama was all over the place?
“There’s no need to panic,” Zairn said, his voice level, cool, he actually sounded like a grown up, the opposite to how she felt. “Didn’t I tell you this wouldn’t be a bump-free fairy tale ending?” Yes, in fact, he’d prophesized a lot of this, and warned her of Magnus’s line before he’d drawn it himself. “Being together is an option.”
He’d said that too. Said Roman would go off the rails if he lost Struan, said Struan would languish in the guilt of that.
“Struan needs time to think about—”
“I don’t need to think,” he said, catching her chin to wrench it up. “You told me we were together. I understand your family being in play changes things, if you don’t—”
“Nothing has changed.” Her hands leaped to his chest. “This is what I want. More than anything.”
“And if it takes sacrifice?” Zairn asked.
She and Struan stayed lost in each other.
“The only thing I won’t sacrifice is Bambi,” Struan said, so sure that tears blurred her eyes. “I want us. More than my brother or my job, I can’t let this go. If I do, I’ll never forgive myself. You’re my chance to have a life, to be me, and see where it goes. With you, I make my own choices, we make our own choices.”
“Okay.” Zairn inhaled. “Struan, stay here, go to Vancouver tomorrow with UO. I’ll take Tripp and Sway back to New York—”
“And I’m going to Wishbone,” Roxie said, startling her into turning around.
No one ever sounded so excited about a trip to her hometown.
“Why are you—”
“I’ll call Stone,” Roxie said without addressing her unfinished question. “And by me, I mean Casanova.”
“We’ll need at least mid-scale deployment,” Zairn said, raising the phone to his ear. “We’ll be back to get you in an hour. Say your goodbyes.”
For how long? To be without him, she didn’t want to imagine it. This was a step on the road to their future, which couldn’t come quickly enough.