Page 86 of Nothing Breaks Like A Heart

"I will." I tried to sound confident. "If Andrew is the thief, I can't see why he'd hurt me now. He has what he wants, and it looks like he might have gotten away with it."

"For now," Ethan said, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl that sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. "But I will hunt the thieves down if it's the last thing I do."

I heard someone outside the door. "I think Andrew is back. I better go."

"Stay safe. I'll talk to you later."

As I ended the call, Andrew walked in, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. He had a white paper bag in his hand and a cup holder with two coffees. "Good morning, beautiful," he said with his usual smile, no trace of tension in his blue eyes.

"Hi," I said, faking a smile in return. Ethan's warning rang through my head, reminding me that I had to pretend like nothing was wrong. "Looks like you got us some treats."

"Coffee and pastries," he said, setting everything down on the table.

He'd made my lie to Megan the actual truth. But truth and lies were a risky thing to discuss right now, so I kept that thought to myself.

"Who were you talking to?" Andrew asked.

"Megan," I lied as I moved over to the table to get my coffee. "She wanted to go over the schedule. She also told me there wasn't a fire last night at Victor's place, just smoke from an electrical problem. All the Carringtons are fine."

"That's good news. Did she say anything else?"

I shook my head. "No. In fact, she said that I should tell everyone exactly that if asked about the fire engines on the property last night."

"Always looking to avoid trouble." Andrew took out a chocolate chip scone and bit into it.

He seemed different this morning—happier, more relaxed—and I was hesitant to guess why.Was he getting over the shock of Allison's death? Was he putting on a front because we needed to get through the day looking happy together? Or was his upbeat attitude the result of stealing millions of dollars of treasure right out from under Victor's nose?

I really hoped it wasn't the latter.

"These are good," Andrew said, waving his scone at me. "You should try one."

"I will. Thanks for picking them up, along with the coffee. That was thoughtful."

"I'm still the same guy you married," he said lightly, as if I'd forgotten.

While he might be the same guy I'd married; I wasn't sure he was the same man I'd fallen in love with.

"I'm going to get changed for the ribbon cutting," he added. "Megan sent me the schedule, too. We have a long day ahead of us, but it's almost over, Lauren. What do you think about that?"

Several answers came to mind, but the first word to come out was, "Relieved. I'm tired of the cameras, the speeches, and always being on."

"You have to admit it's been exciting. Isn't that what life is supposed to be about? Taking risks, pushing the envelope, and living past your own expectations?"

"I guess." I wasn't sure what he was getting at, because he had to know I wasn't a risk-taking, push-the-envelope, live-past-my-own-expectations kind of woman. But he was gone before I could say anything. And it didn't matter. As he'd said, it was almost over. I just wasn't exactly sure whatitwas…the marketing campaign, the marriage, the con…

Or maybe it would be all three.

ChapterTwenty-Two

The scent of jasmine hung thick in the air as we rounded the corner to find Megan and her media team sequestered in a bush-enclosed patio left of the resort's grand entrance. Jeanette Bilson and the Carringtons were already there, their presence adding tension to the moment. Through a space in the bushes, I could see a crimson ribbon fluttering across the hotel's entrance, where an eager crowd had begun to gather, their excited murmurs carrying across the manicured grounds.

Paula and Bennett stood apart from the others, heads bent close in whispered conversation that seemed to stop whenever anyone drew near. Victor prowled the edges of the patio, phone pressed to his ear, his usually commanding presence fractured by barely contained fury. The loss of his treasures had clearly gutted him. But he wouldn't tell us about that, and we wouldn't ask. My stomach churned with the weight of secrets, but Ethan's words about the robbery echoed in my mind, each syllable a warning bell. One wrong word, one telling glance, and I could bring everything crashing down—or worse, put myself in the crosshairs of whoever had orchestrated this theft.

"Good, you're here and you're both smiling," Megan said as she joined us, her gaze sweeping over us. "Holding hands would be even better."

"We'll do that as soon as we go public," Andrew replied, his voice clipped.

"Fine." Megan's lips thinned. "A few kisses here and there wouldn't be bad, either. Try to look like an actual honeymoon couple. Because right now, I'm thinking I could have paid some models to get a better result."

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