Page 51 of The Version You Hide

“I’m okay here,” she argues, crossing her arms over her chest again.

“What are you gonna do? Wait till I drive up to the gate and sneak out behind me?”

“If I have to.”

“Fine. You’re stubborn as hell, so I guess there’s no point in arguing with you.” I stand and ready myself to get in the car. I’m only calling her bluff. I still have no intention of leaving her behind. “But just so you know, I really am sorry. For dragging you into this mess. I shouldn’t have kept all this stuff from you. I should have trusted you with it.”

She looks up at me, not moving from her spot on the swing.

“I never lied to you though. I do like spending time with you. I did want you here with me tonight.” I swallow down the lump in my throat, remembering the hurt that I’d caused her, hating that I wasn’t able to protect her from Madison’s wrath.

She looks over toward the gates, like she’s planning her escape from me. “Have you finished?”

“No.” I shake my head. “There’s one more thing.”

Her eyebrows jump up as she looks at me expectantly. “Well?”

“When I said that your dress was perfect, I meant that you look perfect in it. That’s all.”

I turn away from her, stepping down from the gazebo. I’ve only made it halfway to the car when I hear her footsteps crunching on the pebble path.

“You better figure out a way to fix that window winder.” Her voice cuts through the night somewhere behind me. “Your rich ego is bound to take up all the oxygen in the car and I’m going to need some air.”

A smile stretches across my face as I open the driver’s door. I wait for Mackenzie to round the car to the passenger side, then I hear her wrestling with the handle.

“Do you need help?” I call.

“No,” she cries out, yanking it so hard, I think it might break.

A few seconds later, the door opens, and she climbs inside while I try to deny that those long, toned legs have any effect on me.

We drive toward the security gate, and she watches as I wind down the window to press the large black button on the side panel.

“Are you kidding me?” she asks, completely livid. “You mean all I had to do was press that button and I would have been free?”

I couldn’t contain my laughter if I tried.

Chapter 17

MACKENZIE

I’ve been awake for an hour, but I can’t seem to find the motivation to shift myself from my bed.

What I have done though, is google Dylan about twenty-five times. I’ve read article upon article about his exit from the company, scrolled through countless images of him at important events. There are even photographs of him as a child, his sister alongside him with his parents, Faith and Ivan Abbott. A cute little wide-eyed boy beaming at the cameras.

I’ve also read his google bio, which is full of pointless facts that I have to admit don’t even nearly capture the essence of the person I’ve come to know these past few months. What his life must have been like, growing up in the limelight, his every move described by reporters.

And what it still must be like.

I understand now why he felt the need to keep his job at Two Tanked a secret. What he meant when he said he wanted to have something that was all his own.

I’m not rostered on to work at the tavern today, and I feel relieved about that. Maybe by the time tomorrow’s shift rolls around, I’ll be in a better headspace to handle this situation with Dylan, but for now I think space from him is what I need.

It’s not that I don’t want to see him. Despite everything that had happened last night, we were able to fall back into easy conversation during the trip home. When he’d dropped me off, I was still reeling from the things I’d learnt about him, but something was telling me to trust the person that I’d come to know, and not the things his bitter ex had said about him. We all have a past after all.

I toss my phone on the bedside table where my art books lay, the brightly coloured business card that peaks out from the pages grabbing my attention. I pinch it between my fingers and pluck it from the book, then I flip it over in my palm, tracing the bold font with my forefinger.

The Abstract Palette.

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