Why does he have to say it like it’s totally illicit and dirty? My cheeks flame. “Not on purpose! I tried to let you know, but you just waggled your eyebrows!”
“Oooh… Was that what…?” He points at the now empty seat, devoid of my underwear.
Wait a minute. I narrow my eyes. “Did you take it?”
“What, your thong? Me?” He actually puts a hand over his chest, all innocent. “Of course not.”
“Then who took it? Not Barron.” Or did he? Oh my God. Why the hell would he do that? He didn’t seem like a perv. Then again, perverts don’t have “I’m an uncaught sex offender” tattooed on their foreheads.
“You probably just imagined it out of panic,” Nate says. “Even I thought I was seeing things when he showed up like that.”
“I am not imagining—” But hold on. Maybe I am. I mean, you do see things when you freak out, right? I put my hand to my forehead, breathing hard. Then I look down at my finger. The gold band winks at me.
Chapter Nineteen
Evie
I insist on leaving Vegas as soon as possible. We accomplished more—a lot more—than we intended. Nobody’s going to call Elizabeth’s auctions fake or staged anymore. And I need to put some distance between myself and Nate, and pretend everything that supposedly happened after I got my ten of hearts didn’t happen. I just can’t think or talk about it and make it seem even more real when I’m still hung over from yesterday.
While I supervise our luggage being loaded into the waiting limo, Nate, in his usual fashion, stops in the lobby to say goodbye to Tiny Tim, probably giving him all the tips the man won’t get because of our early departure. They chat for a few minutes and then shake hands.
I schedule an Uber pickup for when we get back to L.A., then pretend to be asleep the entire time we’re flying to avoid talking to Nate. He doesn’t try to talk to me, either. He may not be able to dress himself, but he’s not entirely stupid.
When we land in L.A., I don’t wait for Nate’s fancy car service. The instant the aircraft door opens, I run straight to my Uber, taking my overnight bag. If there are paparazzi, they’re being awfully discreet. They probably don’t want to get kicked out. Or maybe—hopefully—they found something juicier to gossip about.
“Bye, Mr. Sterling. See you on Monday!” I say with a wave, and jump into the car before he can stop me.
I have four missed calls from Mom. I can’t talk with her right now because I don’t know what to say. Marrying my boss is already crazy enough. Staying married to him is inconceivable. I just need to think of a way to get out of everything gracefully and still not lose my job.
The second I walk into my apartment, Kim pounces. I feel like a mouse that just stuck its head out of a hole.
“Tell me everything!” she demands. “And you owe me ten million apologies for ignoring my texts! I texted you, like, nine billion times!”
“I know, I know!” I say, dumping my stuff on the floor because it’s beyond me to care right now. “But I couldn’t text you because I was hung over, and then there was Nate, and then Barron Sterling, and—”
“What?” Her eyes go wide at the mention of Barron. “Start from the beginning.”
So I do, and tell her everything I can remember. Well, except for the mysterious vanishing thong, because I’m still not sure who took my damn underwear. I’m hoping that talking the events out will jiggle something new loose from my memory.
But nope. Nothing more comes to me. And now Kim knows everything she ever wanted to know about my time in Vegas.
“By the way, you can never tell anybody what I just told you,” I say, needing to make sure every humiliating detail stays secret.
“Puh-lease. I’m your friend and my lips are sealed.”
“Sorry. I’m just freaking out. I didn’t expect things to get out of control so fast. Or for Barron to show up, acting like this whole wedding deal is real.”
“That man does whatever he wants. He’s worse than Salazar.” Kim shakes her head.
I don’t doubt that, especially having met him now. He’s a human bulldozer. Once he’s on a path, he goes. If something’s in the way, he just runs it over.
“Anyway,” I say, “I’m going to have to find a way to undo all this. Get a quiet, discreet annulment. This is the twenty-first century. I’m sure Barron expects Nate to have a string of wives. People get divorced all the time.”
“Uh, you might want to rethink that.” Kim says. “I’m sure he doesn’t expect a string of wives. Barron Sterling is very traditional.”
I put a hand on my belly. There’s a vile, gnawing bug inside it, eating away at my stomach lining. This entire day has been a nightmare. Actually, this entire weekend.
“Didn’t you say he wanted to have a party to welcome you to the family?” Kim asks.