Page 90 of Cruel Fate

Zane’s ready for bed faster than I am, and he skims social media on his phone as I finish washing the makeup off my face and brush my teeth.

Zarah texts and says she booked us spa appointments, but before that, we’ll visit the hotel and confirm with the banquet manager everything is going well and there are no snags that need our attention. After the spa where we’ll have our hair and makeup done, we’ll dress, but in something appropriate for the press conference. Then Lucille will help us change into our dresses. Ash will pick her up and they’ll walk into the venue together, and I’ll ride with Zane and arrive at the hotel on his arm.

The entire day is accounted for, and I’m exhausted just thinking about it. I’ll be playing four roles tomorrow: Party planner, Zarah’s friend, Zane’s executive assistant, and his girlfriend. I’m afraid I won’t be able to manage all the people I’ll have to pretend to know how to be.

I text her back, a quick note saying I’ll be waiting and to have a good night, and I turn off my phone and the light in the bathroom. Zane’s lying in bed, a pillow bunched under his head, his phone on the nightstand. I lie next to him, propping my head on my hand. “It’s going to be okay, you know?” I don’t feel qualified to give out such grave advice, and Zane’s expression mirrors my doubt.

His face clears, and he forces a smile. “Whenever I get scared, I think about you. The little girl who was hoping a mom and dad would love her. Who was looking for a family she never found. You managed to grow into a mature young woman who’s making something out of what little she has, and I think, ‘If Stella can do it, so can I,’ and then I’m not scared anymore.”

I lean over and kiss him. His desperation is gone and his lips are soft under mine. “That’s sweet of you to say.”

“And it’s true.”

We lie in the dark, but Zane didn’t close the blinds and lights shining from the city’s tallest buildings dance across his face. He’s so handsome, and for some strange, inexplicable reason, he wants me.

“Stella, make love to me.”

I do, slow and easy. My tender to his rough, and when he comes, it’s with a sigh and a sob.

He’ll be all right, my Zane, and if there’s ever a time he needs to fall apart, I’ll be there to pick up the pieces and make him whole.

The way his love has done for me.

The sun streams through the window, but that’s not what wakes me up.

Zarah bounces into the room, places a coffee tray on Zane’s desk, and falls hard onto the bed, laughing.

Zane groans and yanks a pillow over his head.

“Come on, sleepyheads! Rise and shine!”

Covering my boobs with the sheet, I sit up. Strangely, I’m not embarrassed Zarah barged in on us, and Zane doesn’t seem to care, either, mumbling good-naturedly something about shutting the fuck up.

I brush the hair out of my eyes. Zane and I talked late into the night, and we didn’t fall asleep until—I look at the clock on his nightstand—four hours ago. Nerves had kept him wide awake, and in soft whispers, we talked through all his worries. Half of what he said confused me, but the core of what he’s worried about I can understand. He’s scared he can’t handle the responsibilities.

If that much depended on me, I would be scared, too.

Eventually, he’d fallen asleep, clinging to me so tightly I could barely breathe.

Squinting, I stare out the window, the buttery sun shining through the glass. Zarah fixes us coffee and fills us in on what needs to be done, and I try not to let my sluggish brain fall behind. She sounds like she’s been awake for hours, and I’m struggling to keep my eyes open. She asks if I still want to go with her to the Lyndhurst before we head to our spa appointments, and of course I mumble an agreement. She looks fresh in dress pants and a blouse, delicate gold hoops hanging from her ears.

Desperately, I gulp the coffee she poured me and try not to feel like a sweater in the giveaway bin at the thrift store.

Zane doesn’t need to do anything or be anywhere until the press conference later that afternoon, and he falls back to sleep.

I shoo Zarah away and shower. Even showering in Zane’s bathroom is an extravagance. The water pressure is unlike any I have ever experienced, and even though I don’t have much time,I shave and let the hot water beat some of the tension out of my shoulders and neck.

This is a big day.

Zane’s life will change today.

No, that’s not exactly true. His life changed the day his parents’ plane crashed into the ocean.

Today, Zane Maddox is embracing that change, promising he’ll do his best by it.

Following her cue, I dress in similar clothes to what Zarah’s wearing and twist my hair into a damp bun. It’s stupid I have to admit I’ve never been to a spa before and didn’t know what to wear. It was probably dumb of me to shave, too, but there’s no way I’m letting someone wax me up in there. I can do that kind of maintenance myself.

Stealing a moment of quiet—the last one I’ll have to myself since there will be something going on every second until bedtime tonight—I brush my fingers over Zane’s forehead. He looks peaceful in his sleep, but even I’m not naïve enough to think it will last. I’ve never met Kagan Maddox, but I know how Clayton Black lives and the kind of stress he’s constantly under. It will catch up with Zane, too. One day.

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