Grace Under Fire (Buchanan-Renard 14) - Page 88

Regan caught up with her as Isabel was closing the door. She followed her outside and asked, “Where are you going?”

“I want to find a ride back to the Hamilton.”

“Is something wrong? It’s not even eleven.”

“I’m very tired.”

It was a lame excuse and she knew Regan wasn’t buying it. She didn’t press her, though, and Isabel was thankful she didn’t have to make up a more elaborate lie. The truth was too painful to talk to anyone about.

“There are so many people here who wanted to meet you and ask you questions about XO.”

“I think I’ve met everyone.”

“And they all asked about XO, didn’t they?” Regan asked, smiling.

“All but one,” she replied, her voice trembling now. “Amanda Foley asked me if I would sing at her wedding. She said that she and Michael would just love it if I did. I told her I don’t do weddings. Then I laughed. I’m not sure why I did that.”

If Isabel hadn’t been feeling so miserable, she would have laughed at Regan’s flabbergasted expression.

“No,” Regan gasped.

“Yes,” Isabel insisted.

Regan didn’t try to talk her into staying. “Theo hired a car service for those guests who have had too much to drink. You can get a ride back to the hotel whenever you’re ready to leave.”

“I’m ready now.”

Regan motioned to one of the drivers, who quickly opened the back door of a black town car. “I’m going to call the hotel and have security waiting for you in the parking garage. They’ll be in front of the elevators we used earlier, and they’ll accompany you up to your suite.”

“Is that necessary?”

“Better to be safe than sorry.”

Desperate to get going, Isabel didn’t argue. She could feel anxiety building, and she knew, if she didn’t get it under control soon, she was going to have a full-fledged panic attack right there in the back of the town car.

Thanks to Michael she was an emotional mess. If it were possible, she would go to the airport right this minute in her fancy cocktail dress and her stiletto heels and catch the next flight to Scotland. All she wanted was to disappear for a while. She took a deep breath, leaned back against the plush leather seat, and closed her eyes. The weight of the last few days was bearing down on her.

First and foremost, there was Michael. She had to get as far away from him as possible. He’d hurt her, and it was going to take time and distance for her to heal.

Then there was the shooting and poor Detective Walsh. She’d killed a man and hadn’t come to terms with that fact yet. There was a tiny part of her that felt tremendous guilt. She had taken a man’s life, and she knew she would never be the same.

Becoming an overnight sensation, as Xavier said, was yet another reason to run away. There were fanatical fans out there who had transferred some of their love and mania onto her. Though she hadn’t admitted this to anyone, they scared the bejeezus out of her. She pictured them crowding in on her and shivered at the thought. It was so claustrophobic. Escaping to the Highlands and Glen MacKenna was just what she needed.

As soon as she arrived back at the Hamilton, she had her suitcase for her trip to Scotland brought up from storage. She opened it, realized she’d overpacked, and took out more than half the number of outfits and put them in a box the concierge supplied. She also emptied her backpack and stuffed all those clothes in the box. When she was finished, she asked the concierge to mail the box back to her home in Silver Springs.

Too worked up to relax, she channel-surfed for a while, but she couldn’t concentrate on any program. She wished she could get out of Boston now. The thought had crossed her mind earlier, and it had seemed an implausible idea. But why? Why couldn’t she leave now? There really wasn’t any reason to wait until Monday to leave for Scotland, was there? Maybe she could get an earlier flight.

It took only a couple of phone calls, and she was all set. In order to leave as soon as possible, Isabel had to make adjustments to her itinerary. Instead of flying to Glasgow, she was now landing in Edinburgh. A flight that had been scheduled to leave earlier in the evening was waiting for a new crew coming in from Los Angeles. The airline decided to reschedule, and the new departure time was five thirty Sunday morning, much to the disappointment and anger of quite a few passengers. Several canceled their tickets, which was a stroke of luck for Isabel. One of those cancellations made a first-class seat available. If she could get to the airport and through security in time, she would be on her way lickety-split. She didn’t waste any time, quickly changing into comfortable leggings, a long black T-shirt, and her lightweight blue jacket. In a hurry to gather her things and arrange for a ride to the airport, she didn’t book a hotel reservation, thinking she would find a place to stay when she arrived in Scotland.

Isabel was excited about the change. She couldn’t wait to explore Scotland and see all the places she’d read about. Earlier in the week she had taken the time to pinpoint the location of Glen MacKenna. It was way up there, and she planned to make a lot of stops along the way. The attorney handling the estate was waiting to hear when she would arrive, and she would notify him in a couple of days to set up a meeting. Any other details she would address later.

She made it in plenty of time to board her flight. When she was going through security, one of the guards recognized her and called over three others to meet Isabel. They didn’t make a scene, which she appreciated. They wanted an autograph, and each pulled out his cell phone to get a photo with her. All of them had the same burning question: What was XO like?

Once she was settled in her seat, she texted Kate and explained that she was on her way to Edinburgh. She asked her to tell Dylan that she was going alone and not to worry. She assured her sister that, as soon as she figured out where she was going to stay, she would let her know. It was five twenty in the morning, and she knew Kate was sound asleep. She wouldn’t get around to reading her texts until much later in the day, which benefited Isabel because Kate couldn’t call and argue with her about going alone.

Although Isabel was exhausted, it took time for her to quiet her mind. She kept going over the conversations she had had with Michael and with Amanda. Just by being honest with her, Michael had broken her heart. He couldn’t have been more blunt when he told her having sex with her shouldn’t have happened. Lovely, just lovely. And Amanda. Dear God, what a nightmare that woman was. What did Michael see in her?

For a good long while Isabel wallowed in anger and self-pity. Then she decided to be reasonable, once again reminding herself, Michael had never promised her happily ever after. She had seduced him, after all. Maybe she had expected more than he could give. She was the one with the problem, not him. She should have stayed away from him.

Vowing she wouldn’t waste another minute thinking about Michael, she zipped up her jacket, pulled the hood up over her head, and finally fell asleep.

Tags: Julie Garwood Buchanan-Renard Romance
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