by Kaye, Nikky
“Oh.”
That was a lie—I knew, and I owed her the truth just as she’d offered it to me. “No, we wouldn’t,” I said firmly.
“How do you know?” Her gaze was still fixed on a point on the horizon, but she didn’t sound accusatory or disbelieving—just curious.
“Because I didn’t love you, not enough.” I knew that now because I knew what it felt like to love Audrey. It sounded so cold though. “I’m sorry, Tanya.”
She hummed knowingly as though she expected that answer. Then she hit me with a sucker punch.
“When I talked to Dierks late last night—early this morning? Whatever, anyhow, when I talked to him he said something about being sick and Audrey being sick too, but at least he wasn’t pregnant…?”
My jaw clenched. “Dierks has a big fucking mouth.” And it would get my fist plowed into it the next time I saw him, for blabbing about my girl.
“Is she?” Tanya asked.
“Is she what?”
“Pregnant?”
I pressed my lips together tightly. It was none of her goddamn business, but she didn’t need me to say that out loud. Maybe my non-answer was answer enough, though.
“Congratulations, if she is. I think you’ll be a really great dad, Dev, and I hope you’re happy. I mean it. I can tell you really love her.”
The complete lack of bitterness in her voice shamed me. Abruptly, I stood and walked twenty feet away. Then stopped.
I really loved Audrey, and I had to trust that she loved me. The way I acted last night was shameful. Shit, I was an asshole. My only excuse was that I was surprised. Scared.
“Tanya?” I turned back. Her expression was still inscrutable behind her sunglasses, but her mouth turned down at the corners.
“Yeah?”
“You’re smart, beautiful, and talented.”
The corner of her mouth quirked. “Gee, thanks.”
I walked back to her, suddenly feeling at peace. “You deserve to be loved, you know. Loved more, and by a better person than me.”
She looked away, her cheeks reddening. “Maybe someday.”
I touched her face to get her attention. “I’m sorry. And thanks.”
Her hand went up to circle my wrist and squeezed gently. “Thanks, Dev. Be happy, okay?”
Impulsively, I bent down and kissed her on the forehead. “I will. You, too.”
When I straightened, I spotted Sharma hovering on the other side of the garden area with a frown on his face. Leaving Tanya on the bench, I hurried over to where Mr. Sharma still stood, his arms crossed over his chest.
“I wanted to let you know that your fiancée called with her regrets.”
My forehead creased. “She’s not coming?”
“Apparently she’s still feeling ill.”
“Oh.”
I tried to tamp down the panic inside me. Was she throwing up or in pain? Or was it an excuse to avoid me? Either scenario made my heart beat faster.
Sharma still had a frown on his face. “I understand she was sick yesterday, as well? If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.”
“Thank you.”
It was hard to tell if his show of concern was genuine, or if it worried him that she’d gotten food poisoning or something at one of the wedding events. Sharma was the sort of man who expected a lot of the people around him—and that included the caterers.
Tanya, passing us to go back to the party, paused briefly. “Few more shots?”
I nodded, distracted by my worry over where Audrey went and how she was. Did I have time to run after her?
Sharma cleared his throat to get my attention. “Is everything all right, Dev?”
How to answer that?
It was all perfectly clear. I was going to lose my girl, or I was going to lose my job. Losing both hadn’t been ruled out as a possibility, either. All of a sudden, I knew what I needed—no, wanted—to do.
“I wanted to thank you for inviting us to the wedding. It was an extraordinary week. I know that Aud—” I tripped over her name. “I know that Audrey was fascinated by it.”
Sharma’s expression smoothed out. “You are considered one of our guests of honor.”
My hand went to the back of my neck, rubbing casually. He wasn’t making this any easier for me. “I need to talk to you about something,” I said. “Would you have some time later to have a conversation?” I asked.
He gave me a strange look, as we weren’t exactly playing tennis or something else at the present moment. “I have time now,” he said slowly, going from convivial host to businessman in the blink of an eye.
Sharma gestured to that damn bench, but the sweat on my forehead prompted me to suggest somewhere cooler and more private. He led me inside to a small seating area, far away from the party.
We sat in two club-style chairs across from each other, a small table between us. Because Sharma was the consummate businessman and dealmaker, he waited for me to speak first. Where did I begin?
“I owe you an apology,” I finally said.
“All right.” His expression was blank but I could tell he was curious.
“Aud—Audrey and I aren’t really engaged.”
His eyes widened. “Then what are you?”
Good fucking question. Neighbors? Friends? Lovers? I struggled to find the right word. Maybe there wasn’t a word for what we were. I shrugged, turning my hands over on the armrests so my palms faced up.
“She’s… everything.”
“But the pictures, your proposal—”
“All staged. Or a misunderstanding.” I winced. “Fake.”
He was silent for a long moment while he examined me. I was used to people staring at me, but his scrutiny made me sweat more than I would have out on the sunny bench.
I knew the risk I was taking, here. But while I could always get another job, I couldn’t get another Audrey.
Audrey. Think about Audrey. She was the reason, the reason for everything now. Maybe she always was.
“Why are you telling me this now, Dev?” he finally said.
I took a deep breath. “You have been nothing but kind and generous to us, and I respect you too much to keep… misleading you.”
“I see.”
It was impossible to figure out what he was thinking, so I forged ahead. “The thing is, sir, is that Audrey might be—”
Sharma leaned forward.
No, I couldn’t say that. It was our private business, know-it-all Dierks and Tanya notwithstanding. “I understand if you want to terminate my contract,” I finally said, a lump in my throat. “You signed it in good faith, thinking I was engaged, and it was all…”
“Was it planned?”
“What? No, it just happened.”
“How?” he asked, tilting his head.
I waved my hand. “It’s a long story, but basically we were at her brother’s wedding and I dropped the ring—I was the best man—and then some tourists saw me handing it to Audrey and—” It was all so ridiculous, now I said it out loud.
“No, not that. Did you plan to fall in love with her?”
My breath caught in my throat at the question. “No,” I finally said with a sigh. “It just… happened.”
Behind Sharma I saw a man, maybe an assistant or a family member, looking around frantically. Then he zeroed in on us. As he hurried toward our quiet corner, I realized my time was up.
“I need to go find Audrey.” I leaned forward, my hands on my knees. “I’m sorry, really. Please get in touch with my agent regarding the contract, and I will do whatever you need—” I paused.
No, not ‘whatever.’ Audrey came first.
“I’ll do what I can to make sure I don’t tarnish the company’s image,” I promised.
I stood up, nodding at the younger man hovering behind Sharma’s back. He looked like he was about to pee his pants. Likely there was a fire to put out, figuratively or literally. Whether the billionaire boss of Hessa knew he was there—and I’d bet a million air miles he d
id—he remained silent, his dark eyes glinting at me. Was he going to say something?
I took a deep breath. “Thank you again for inviting us,” I repeated. “It really was our honor to be here. I know how much family means to you.”
When I shook his hand, I looked him straight in the eye and hoped that he understood that I wasn’t bullshitting him.
Then I put my hands together respectfully, the way my mother had taught me growing up, bowed slightly, and left the panicked-looking assistant to his fate as I ran to mine. With each step, I took a bigger one, a faster one.
“Dev!” I heard Tanya shout my name. “We’ve got more to do!”
“I can’t!”
Tanya marched over as I stripped off the bespoke Hessa shirt. “Come on,” she huffed. “Let’s just finish the job.” When she reached out, I shoved the shirt into her gesturing hand before poking my head through the neck of the t-shirt I wore to the shoot.
“I’ve gotta go. I’m sorry.” It seemed like I said that a lot in the last twenty-four hours.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.” All I knew is that I needed to be with Audrey, and suddenly I couldn’t wait another minute.
I grabbed a handful of baby wipes from the makeup artist’s station and scrubbed at my face. The foundation and powder on my face may have looked natural, but the mask was suffocating me.
My arm flexed as she laid her hand on it, my muscles tightening, but when I jerked free, it wasn’t with contempt or anger—just urgency, humming through my body like a hot engine. She held up her hand, like she was trying to pacify a wild animal.
“It looks bad, running off like this,” Tanya reminded me, her mouth turning down at the corners.
“I know.”
“Don’t burn your bridges,” she pleaded. “You’ve got a good thing here with Hessa.”
I laughed. I actually laughed. Her head jerked back as though I’d slapped her. Maybe she thought I was acting crazy. I probably was acting crazy. Seeing the shock and exasperation on her face, though, I stopped. Our earlier conversation flitted through my head.
“Tanya, I’ve got to go and be happy.”
There was no time to explain even if I could or wanted to.
The ride back to the hotel took forever. In my haste, I made the mistake of grabbing a brightly colored auto-rickshaw. You’d think a small vehicle like that could weave and dart around Delhi traffic, but apparently I waved down the one driver in the city happy to obey traffic laws while he chatted on his phone through his Bluetooth earpiece.
Audrey wanted to ride one of these, I recalled. I hadn’t taken her on one yet. There was still time to change that. There was still time to change a lot of things.
At the hotel, I dashed up to our room. My impatience turned to nervousness the moment I rocked up to the door. I hesitated, hovering indecisively in the hall like a room service waiter who could hear sex noises on the other side of the door.
“Everything will be okay,” I muttered to myself. “We love each other.” I leaned my forehead against the door, taking a few calming breaths. Then I knocked.
There was no answer.
I knocked again, harder. Wait. Cursing under my breath, I pulled out my wallet to retrieve the key card.
The lock flashed red.
What? I tried again. Still red. My frown deepened until I realized that I’d probably pulled out the card to the other room—the one I’d half-slept in the night before. So I fumbled in my wallet for that one.
Red. Red. Red.
“Motherfuck!” I growled, raising my foot to kick the door in frustration. My toe barely connected when I heard an alarmed squeak from a nearby housekeeper who looked ready to dive behind her cart.
“Sorry, I’m sorry.” With both my feet firmly planted on the floor, I put my hands up in the air. “Sorry.” Definitely my word of the day.
After a quick glare at the door, I went down to the front desk to get my key card fixed. Audrey must have gone out unless she was just ignoring me. I hoped it was the former, as the lock finally flashed green, because otherwise she’d probably be pissed off at me.
The room was empty but bright, the curtains open. A damp towel dangled over the end of the unmade bed, and I had the fleeting thought if I buried my face in the pillow I’d be able to inhale Audrey’s scent. If watching her sleep made me a creeper, then rolling around in the sheets to smell her skin wasn’t much better.
I sat on the bed, tension draining from me as the ghost of her perfume rose around me. Just sitting here made me feel calmer and happier, but as I looked around my smile faded as quickly as her scent.
Audrey had definitely gone out—and it didn’t look as though she was planning to come back.
When I pulled out my phone, there was no message from her. I’d texted her earlier, but she hadn’t replied. At the time I figured she was still mad at me, or maybe in the shower. Now her silence took on a more ominous tone.
“Shit shit shit shit!”
Where the hell did she go? I was confused and suddenly feeling cold and shaky.
It was time to call in reinforcements.
30
Audrey
Travel tip: always, always pack extra underwear.
I’d reached a new low, a sub-basement of mortification—trying to rinse out my bloodstained panties in an airport bathroom. Even worse was waving them under the feeble hand dryer while trying not to burst into tears.
When a lady at the sink next to me side-eyed me, a horrifying possibility flashed through my head. If someone took a picture of #MrsDevSharpe right now, I’d cram my damp underwear down their goddamn throat.
“There are shops in the concourse,” she said sympathetically.
Of course there were. I’d only seen designer stores but maybe I could find a package of cotton briefs somewhere, even if they had a souvenir Union Jack on them. Irritated, I once more slammed my palm against the button on the dryer, dangling my undies beneath like a white flag of surrender.
If this wasn’t a sign that running away was a dumb thing to do, then what was? So far, I’d faced nothing but obstacles and bad omens in my path, starting with packing up my stuff in the hotel room.
I’d stood there, still naked after my lightning-speed shower, chewing on the inside of my lip and wondering how to conjure up more room in my suitcase for the lovely clothes Preethi had taken me to get. It seemed sacrilegious to roll up the shimmering, beaded fabric and shove it in my pack with my dirty laundry, but neither did I want to just abandon it!
Although, the bitter little part of my brain reminded me, Dev left you here, worn and crumpled.
In the end, I made the only decision a woman faced with such a dilemma could make—I carefully packed the nice stuff, the jewelry nestled inside, and wore three layers of travel clothes to the airport. It was a choice I second-guessed when the extra layers of clothing made me uncomfortably warm and woozy at the departure gate.
I sighed as I fanned myself with my boarding passes like a gangster with a wad of cash. Economizing with my remaining air miles meant that I was taking the scenic route home, through Dubai, Frankfurt, London, Newark, Chicago, and then to Minneapolis.
It was going to be a long… god, I didn’t even know.
By the time I landed in London, I was exhausted, congested, and numb from the heart down. However, I hadn’t thrown up again, which I considered a major victory. Heathrow was noisy, busy, and it smelled like the girls’ bathroom at my old high school, which brings me back to my current state of “about to lose my shit.”
After going through Customs I headed to the “toilets.” By the time I pulled down my long stretchy skirt, skinny jeans and leggings in the stall, I was sweating with the effort—and frankly, I’d already tinkled a little.
I was the princess and the pee-pee pants.
Then I saw the blood.
Thankfully, I was already sitting down, because my knees would have buckled. Okay, so I wasn’t pregnant.
Or maybe I had been pregnant and now I was miscarrying—again.
Focus, Audrey.
I tried to push the possibilities out of my head with the reminder that this was my only pair of clean underwear. ‘Was,’ anyhow. I bit my lip and inhaled sharply, blinking back tears.
“Fuck it.” I threw the underwear in the garbage and moved on.
I fell into a seat in a central waiting area in Heathrow, reluctantly pulling out my phone. There were a dozen texts from Dev. One from Dierks. Brett. I read them, but didn’t know how to respond.
—Where did you go?
—You checked out???? Audrey, I’m sorry. We need to talk. Please call me.
—Hope ur feeling better. Tanya told me the shoot okay but Dev left early. Is he w u? Not answering his phone
—Pick up your phone pls
—Dev just called me freaking out. What’s going on?
—I love you. Fuck, why won’t you talk to me????
—If your phone hasn’t totally blown up yet, you can call me.
I blinked at the last message from Shannon through tired, itchy eyes then thumbed out a response. Within seconds of the text being delivered, my phone was ringing in my hand.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“London. Heathrow.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. I just decided to come home early.”
“And Dev stayed?” she asked, sounding suspicious.
“He had to work.”
“Audrey…”
“Everything’s fine.” My voice wobbled.
“He called Brett. Everything is not fine. Talk to me, hon.”
The lump in my throat made it hard to speak. Finally, I croaked out, “They’re calling my flight. I’ll text you when I get to Newark. The roaming fees here are crazy.”
“Aud—”
I powered off the phone and stared blindly at the crowd swirling around me.
What the hell was I doing?
I had to take several deep breaths to quell the panic attack rising in my chest. Somehow I got on the next plane, but my head spun with all the thinking and over-thinking for the first half of the flight over the Atlantic.
What was worse? Not being able to get pregnant, or not being able to stay pregnant? What would Dev’s reaction be? Happy, sad, angry? Should I have texted him from London? Was there even an appropriate emoji for this situation? As we closed in on the East Coast it hit me, like the iceberg scraping the Titanic.
