Page 16 of One Time in Paris
Sure?
Mostly. Hehadseemed pretty confused.
But why had Lola been at his door when she’d left? Just minutes earlier, he’d said they weren’t together anymore. Yet Lola had been carrying a suitcase.And she knew where he was staying.Had Aiden lied about that? If so, what else would he lie about?
This wasn’t what she wanted to deal with right now.
Not ever. If she could erase last night, wipe it clean from her brain—the parts she remembered anyway—she would.
“We might want to contact the casino, too. If that other guy did put something in our drinks, their security team will probably want to know about it.”
Ugh.
Isla shook her head. “Maybe. I can’t think about that right now. What was this Paris thing you were so excited about?”
Davy sat on her bed and shut the open laptop. “It’s nothing?—”
“No, don’t do that. You were excited. I want to know.”
“Um, considering what happened, it’s really nothing in the grand scheme of things.”
Isla shot her a mock glare. “It’s clearly not nothing. Now tell me. I need to think about something else. Please.” She fluffed her pillow, then sat back against it.
Davy tied her hair back into a ponytail, then sighed. “You had mentioned that tour of Paris thing, and I spent the night researching the different Parises. I pitched a travel program to Antony about it—a six-episode program exploring six different Parises and ending in France, of course—and he loved the idea.”
“That’s amazing, Davy. See? I told you it would all work out.”
“Mm-hmm,” Davy said, her lips pressing together in a smile that didn’t meet her eyes.
“What’s that look for?”
Davy looked away, gathering the papers and stacking them on the laptop. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Davy Mehta. Don’t you dare.” Isla sipped at the bottled water she’d opened. “Tell me.”
Davy clasped her hands in her lap, hesitating. Then she gave Isla a careful smile—the kind you wear before you deliver unwelcome news that used to be good. “Well, last night—I guess after you and Aiden had those drinks—you had volunteered to host the whole travel show. And Aiden had agreed to sponsor it. I should have known it was too good to be true. But I told Antony?—”
Oh shit.
Isla bit her lip, the full realization of Davy’s predicament crashing down on her. “I’m sure you could get a different host,” she said softly.
“Maybe,” Davy said, not meeting her eye. “Though Antony took a look at your old acting reels and résumé, which I sent him, and thought you were perfect for it. But the funding. ..”
The weight of Davy’s words pressed against Isla’s chest. A different host would be inconvenient. Finding a sponsorship so quickly? Even if it were possible, it wouldn’t make Davy look reliable—or paint her in a favorable light. What was Davy supposed to do—tell her boss that she’d taken the word of two drunk and drugged people?
That may have been exactly what she’d done. But it would probably cost her more than the pitch. She’d likely lose her job.
Davy sniffled and wrung her hands. “I can’t believe I’m so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid. Maybe a little overly enthusiastic, but not stupid.” Isla tucked her knees in closer to her stomach. “I’m the one who possibly got drugged and ended up waking up in the bed of one of my brother’s best friends, so if stupid awards are being handed out this morning, they aren’t going to you.”
“Oh God, Isla. I’m so sorry. You see? This is why I didn’t want to say anything. This is nothing compared?—”
“No, no, no.” Isla gave her a steady look. “We’re not playing the comparison game. We’re going to tackle both these problems. One thing at a time.”
Davy nodded, eyes dark with worry. “What now, Isla?”
“I’m going to take a shower and think.” She gulped a deep breath, trying to wrap her head around the daunting tasks ahead of her today. “Then I need to talk to Aiden. As soon as possible.”
