“Do you like him?”
She inhaled for a long time, trying to hold off tears, then let her breath out just as slowly. She set her empty Lean Cuisine tray on the coffee table and curled her feet beneath her. “You know I do.”
“So give him a couple of hours and then go talk to him.”
“What’s the point? We’re going to have to leave, and he’s heading back to the ocean anyway.”
“You still shouldn’t leave it like this. If you talk it out, you can get in touch again after all this has blown over. Next time he comes back to the States…”
Her heart thumped pitifully at the thought. Maybe Jenn was right. Chloe’s life was a disaster right now, but someday it wouldn’t be. Maybe someday they could see each other again, casually. Just for a few weeks while he was home.
She didn’t blame Max for being mad. She’d pulled him into a maelstrom and he’d been totally blind-sided by the storm. He had every right to be furious, but he didn’t seem like the type to stay that way for long. “I don’t know. We’ll see.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jenn tilting her cell phone up to look at the screen. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing!”
“I see you reading your e-mail.”
“I’m not! I was just checking…something.”
Chloe shifted the throw pillow higher on the arm of the couch and laid her head down on it. “Just give it to me straight, Jenn. What are they saying?”
Jenn sighed and waited a few moments, clearly hoping Chloe would change her mind. But Chloe just closed her eyes and waited.
“‘Bridezilla on the Beach,’” Jenn said flatly. “‘While her fiancé anxiously awaits a hearing that could result in multiple felony charges, Bridezilla Chloe Turner luxuriates at an isolated Virginia island resort—’”
“Luxuriates?” Chloe snorted.
“‘—seemingly unconcerned with Thomas DeLorn’s fate or the end of her engagement. This indulgence in the face of tragedy is hardly a surprise, given the stories we’ve all heard about her selfish nature, but considering that she would’ve been on her honeymoon this week, you’d think even Chloe Turner would be in a somber mood. Meanwhile…’ Is that enough?”
“No, go on.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to know.”
Jenn let the quiet stretch on for long seconds, and Chloe didn’t know if she was resisting or just reading ahead, but she finally picked up the story. “‘Police say they are carefully building a case against Mr. DeLorn, and should have more information to reveal soon. They also say Chloe Turner has cooperated fully in the investigation, which comes as no surprise.’ That’s it.”
“What are you leaving out?”
“Nothing!”
Chloe snuggled deeper into the pillow. Despite the way Max had worked her out the night before, she’d slept fitfully. “Liar. Spill it, Jenn.”
Jenn’s voice sounded more than hesitan
t, as if it were being dragged backward through the mud. “It says they have exclusive information about your island partying that they plan to reveal tonight.”
Her eyes popped open. “Shit.”
“Max would never talk about you!”
“Maybe not. But the hotel clerk will. And the bartender. And everyone else who saw us in that bar together. I’m about to be called heartless and fickle. And worse than that.”
“Chloe—”
“We’re going to have to leave, Jenn. If they find out about Max, they won’t leave him alone. Unless they have to leave to follow me, of course.”