“Oh God!” is all I can say, imagining the fear tearing through his little body.
“Yeah…Avery did a great job with him though. In fact, he hasn’t left her side all day.”
“Is he still talking?” My mind immediately thinks of all of the progress he’s made in the past month. Of how in therapy he’s started drawing pictures depicting what happened that horrific night and started piecing it together for both his counselors and the authorities. A set back like this could wipe all of that away and then some.
“Not as much but it’s still fresh in his mind. I’m just keeping Avery with him. The two of them have really bonded.”
“Do I need to come home? I can…” Guilt spirals through me. I should be there with Zander right now. Comforting him. Helping him through this. Holding him.
“Don’t be silly, Ry. We’ve got it covered. I just know how you like to know everything about the kids when it happens.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive,” he reiterates. “How’s it going resisting the Adonis? Is the ship still sinking or are you diving into his bits of paradise?”
I can’t help the smile that forms on my lips. “You’ve been talking to Haddie, haven’t you?” His silence is the only answer that I need. Resigned and needing someone to bounce things off of, I reluctantly respond. “It’s…confusing.” I sigh.
“Men always are, babe.”
I laugh. “I don’t know, Dane. I know what I saw. I’m not stupid. But between Haddie telling me I’m being stubborn and Colton’s non-stop denial, I wonder if I’m making a mistake. I just don’t get how one plus one doesn’t equal two.”
He just makes a non-committal sound on the other end of the line while he thinks. “Shit, Ry, not everything is black and white if you know what I mean. What does it hurt to hear him out?”
I breathe out audibly, fear snaking through me that I really might be wrong. That I might already be too late. “My pride.”
“Sugar, maybe you should be holding on a little tighter to that Adonis instead of your pride. That’ll just cause you to end up alone with lots of cats.”
A silence settles between us, his words striking a little closer to home than I care to admit. “Yeah…I know.”
“Then get off your ass and do something about it! A gorgeous man like that isn’t going to wait around forever regardless of how delicious you are. Shit, I just might try to turn him.”
I laugh again; always appreciative of Dane and his unsolicited advice that no doubt puts me in my place. Crap! I thank him quickly and hang up, my mind made up. I scramble quickly, slipping my practical outfit over my head, and grab the sexiest dress I have in my suitcase.
In the time I’ve had to sit and think about everything, I’ve reapplied my make-up and given myself a pep talk to regain some of my confidence. I’m not sure what I’m going to say to Colton, but I have to say something. I have to fix the damage of this cluster-fuck that we’re continually finding ourselves in.
It’s time for me to put on my big girl panties.
I figure if I can speak to him quickly, then I can make some plans to see him afterward and talk things through. I double-check my reflection in the mirrors of the elevator. My quick change has done wonders for both my appearance and my attitude. I head toward the ballroom where the event of the evening is taking place. An event that I had not been scheduled to attend, but I don’t care. I have to do this now.
I can’t wait any longer. I can’t waste another minute clutching to my pride.
And besides, I really hate cats.
The evening’s event is a charitable cocktail party where people pay the requisite donation and get the rights to say they had drinks with the elusive Colton Donavan. As much as I'm thrilled that the funds will be going toward a local St. Petersburg organization for orphaned children, I have a hunch that the attendees of this evening's event will be more concerned with trying to grab Colton's attention—or rather what's in his pants—than the kids their money will be helping.
I take a deep breath as I walk. My mind’s made up. I need to talk to Colton. Tonight. I need to either bury this or take a chance, trust him, and listen to what he has to say. Believe him when he tells me that he didn’t sleep with Tawny—that he’d never cheat on me. I silently rehearse the words I want to say. Nerves jingle in my stomach. I smooth my hands over my dress, turning the corner to the foyer leading to the ballroom and stop dead in my tracks when I come face to face with the one person I have dreaded seeing this entire trip. The one person I am most certain that Colton has purposely kept my eyes from even catching a glimpse of.
“Well isn’t this an unexpected surprise,” her unmistakable voice chides, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up. It takes everything I have from launching myself at her. From slapping that smug, smarmy smirk off of her face and showing her how I really feel about her.
And I’m just about to lay into her when the gentleman passing by catches my eye and nods at me, a murmured, “Rylee,” on his lips—a corporate sponsor.
I nod back at him, forcing a slight smile in greeting, knowing that as much as I’d like to attack Tawny right here and show her what I think of her, I can’t commit the professional suicide that would result from it. And I know that Tawny knows it because she works her tongue in her cheek as her smirk widens.
“What?” she says, looking me up and down. “You’re finally ready to forgive Colton for his indiscretions?” She quirks her eyebrows, so much more than contempt dancing in her eyes. And it’s not lost on me that the word ‘indiscretions’ is plural. I stare at Tawny, so many things I’d like to spew at her running through my mind. I physically have to clench my fists to prevent them from reaching out and slapping her. Anger is so thick in my throat that words don’t come. Feelings—emotions—hatred overwhelms, but words don’t come.