“Yeah.” My voice is a rasp, and I wince.
“I’m such an idiot. Of course you aren’t okay. When he comes back, I’m going to kill him. Then handcuff him to you.” She gestures at the counter. “The chef made some eggs, bacon and pancakes. If you’d rather have something else—”
“No, it’s fine.” The chef could offer me a gold-plated, Michelin three-star pancake, and I still wouldn’t want it. I’m only eating for the baby.
We sit in silence as I mechanically shovel food into my mouth. I don’t want to be rude, but I also don’t want to go on and on about Ryder to his sister. She doesn’t seem to know what topic to safely broach either.
Maybe I should go home to Sweet Hope…or take a short trip to someplace nobody knows me…
Sue bustles in. Her face is flushed, and excitement glitters in her eyes. “It’s him!”
“Who?” Elizabeth says.
“Mr. Reed!”
I jump to my feet. “He’s here?”
“No. He sent a car for you.” She flings her arm behind her. “You’re supposed to pack a few things and go with the driver as soon as possible.”
I don’t even bother to hear the rest of what she has to say. Food forgotten, I rush to my suite and start packing. Since I have no idea how long it’s going to be or anything, I toss fistfuls of everything into a suitcase.
Elizabeth comes in a few minutes later. “Make sure you take your passport as well,” she says. “And only your lightest clothes.”
“Why?” I ask, not stopping.
“Because.” Her smile reaches her eyes, and their corners crinkle. “The driver told me you’re going to Thailand.”
That stops me. “Thailand?”
“Uh-huh. Our family—on the Pryce side, I mean—has a vacation home there. Very private.” She shakes her head. “That must be where he is, although I have no idea why. It’s so far away.”
“I don’t care how far it is. I’m going! Now!”
She laughs at my enthusiasm. “Okay, okay.” She removes a pair of sweats from my suitcase, along with two long-sleeved shirts. “Don’t forget to send a postcard.”
I scurry around, gathering all my shorts and light tops and hurling them into the suitcase. One of the men who maintain the garden at the mansion comes up, takes my bag downstairs and loads it into the waiting Mercedes.
Finally! I’ll see Ryder in a few hours.
The ride to the airport feels interminable. I clasp my hands together, then let them go, and squirm around. Sitting still like a grown-up is impossible. I feel like a kid on Christmas Eve.
Ryder’s pristine white jet is waiting. I walk up the steps to board, then step inside the cabin. There’s an attendant…but that’s it.
“Where’s Ryder?” I ask the woman.
“You’re the only passenger.”
My mouth parts. “I am?”
“Yes, ma’am. Please sit down and relax. Would you like anything to drink? Ginger ale? We also have various juices, water…”
“No.” I shake my head, taking a seat. “I’m all right.”
Except I’m not all right. I was so certain Ryder was going to join me. He could’ve left last night, but then why didn’t he take his plane?
For all I know, Ryder may be staying in L.A., and banishing me to the opposite end of the planet. I pull out my phone in case he’s left a text or a voice mail. But there’s nothing.
I don’t even know if he’s heard my message. Sudden fatigue weighs me down, and as the plane starts to taxi I lay my head listlessly against the leather seat and close my eyes.