Page 57 of Call Me Mrs. Taylor

“You’re leaving?” I call after her, pathetic and needy.

With her hand on the doorknob, she turns back to me and grins wickedly. “Pack light. We won’t be wearing much.”

With that, she takes her leave, and I pull up my calendar.

I guess I’m going to Hilton Head.

17

Raya

Ace pulls up in a sleek black rental, something low and fast that reminds me of a panther. The engine purrs, waiting to be unleashed. I slide into the buttery leather passenger seat and smile, running my fingers over the woodgrain paneling on the door. I like this. And I like that Ace likes nice things.

It’s one of the first things I noticed about him. Unlike his raggedy ass family, he’s not flashy about it. He just likes quality. Precision. Well-crafted things. Things that last.

I want to be one of those things.

He places my luggage in the trunk, then gets in. His eyes linger on me as I buckle up. He’s waiting for me to say something, but I’m dreading it. The Ordered Steps marquee said it all, but it’s not enough.

I could have asked him to pick me up from home. I could have even met him at the car rental place. But this is probably for the best. It’s a test, maybe. A way to see how he reacts, if he’ll pry. If he’ll judge me.

He doesn’t.

“You ready?” he asks, his voice even.

I nod.

He pulls out onto the main road, smooth and effortless. I feel the power beneath us, the easy strength of the engine humming through my seat, vibrating between my legs. But I can’t enjoy it. The knot in my stomach is too persistent. I fuckinghatethis part, giving up a piece of me and presenting it to someone else. But I have to. If I want him to trust me, to get closer to me—if I want that ring—I have to give him something.

He waits until we hit the highway before he asks me.

“Why’d you lie?”

His voice is calm, but I tense at the sound of it. The words don’t sting as much as they should, though. He just wants me to give him something real, and that’s a good thing.

I exhale. “I was embarrassed.”

I turn to face him, letting my expression soften just enough to show him what I need him to see. Vulnerability. Regret. Sincerity.

Never mind that I sincerely regret nothing.

“I thought I had everything figured out after graduation, but I couldn’t find a job. Everybody else had motion, but I was stuck.” That’s all true, except for the graduation part. “I didn’t wanna seem like a failure, especially to a man like you.”

The words taste natural on my tongue.

He doesn’t speak right away. His fingers flex on the steering wheel while he processes it. He wants to believe me. He’s looking for honesty, and I just handed him a version of it.

After a moment, he nods. “I get that.”

I study his profile, the way his brows pull together slightly as he ponders my words. Why did I have to fall in love with such a brilliant, analytical man? That’s the worst type of man to lie to.

I need to distract him before he digs any deeper.

“How long is the drive? I can’t remember.”

But it’s not enough, I see that immediately.

“Is there anything else?” he asks. “Something else you haven’t told me?

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