Page 103 of The Tryst

“Thank you,” he says, grateful, like I’ve absolved him, but still terrified.

“She’s going to be okay,” I tell him, as calm as I can be. That’s what he needs from me.

“You think so?” His voice pitches up.

“I do. Now, where are you? I’ll help you figure out the fastest way to get to her.”

He’s at the grocery store a mile away, so I triage his travel, comparing train and bus traffic times. But in the end, I want him to get there as soon as he can and with some privacy to make calls if he needs it, so I order him a car service and then I tell him to go.

* * *

“Any news?”

Those are Layla’s first words to me when she arrives early that evening at the Fox Walk Inn, the boutique hotel by the sea where the fundraiser’s being held.

She wears a bold pink dress with black polka dots, her blonde locks pinned in some kind of French twist, and I can barely breathe. But I don’t even have a moment to say “you look stunning” because she’s not only all business here in an alcove off the lobby, but she’s also with her posse. The brunette with her must be Harlow, and the guy has to be Ethan.

Once again, gratitude floods me, and I want to say thank you from the bottom of my fucked-up heart to the two of them, but Layla wants an answer from me.

“Cynthia broke her femur. She’s going to have surgery tonight on the fractured leg,” I tell her. “David just arrived, and he says she’s lucky she didn’t have any other injuries. Just some bumps and bruises.”

Layla’s shoulders relax. “Oh, thank god. I’ve been so worried since you told me,” she says. I called her earlier to let her know about the accident, but I didn’t learn anything more till David and I spoke again a little while ago. Quickly, Layla shifts gears, introducing her friends to me, then adding, “And during the auction, Harlow can introduce the Zara Clementine since she arranged the donation through her gallery.” She says all this with the crisp efficiency of a businesswoman handling her task list.

“And Ethan, since your band is donating a performance, did you want to introduce that?” I ask the dark-haired guy next to her.

“Sure,” he replies.

“That’s amazing. Your songs are great,” I say, but that sounds so sanitized. I wish I could say Layla played his tunes for me when I cooked her dinner last week, but I don’t know what they know.

I swallow the rest of my compliments—she’s shared your music with me, she’s so damn proud of you, andshe’s been telling me about the two of you since the very first time I met her.

“Thanks, man,” Ethan says with a grin that says he’s young enough and new enough to savor every compliment.

The conversation falters after that because what else is there to say?

But Layla doesn’t let it drag. Her boss-lady mode is activated. “So, here’s the plan. We’ll emcee the evening and the entertainment together. We’ll introduce the cocktail hour, and after that, we’ll have reps from various shelters, plus Harlow, and they’ll share some of the details on our donations—the Zara, the golf clubs, the jewelry, Raven’s designs, and so on,” she says, all boom, boom, boom.

“Yep,” I nod since I know all this. Have known it for weeks.

“Then everyone will have a chance to wander around the tables to check out the info on the items, and then the bidding begins,” she adds, motoring through more details.

I wish I could get a minute alone with her, and honestly, I could. I could saylet’s talk, but that’d be a dick move given the situation. I have to set my misplaced emotions aside and focus on the bigger picture—making sure this fundraiser goes off without another hitch.

“And then at the end we’ll announce who won each item,” she says.

Does she think I’ve been zoning out the last few weeks? “I’m aware. I’ve been part of the planning,” I say gently.

“Right. Of course,” she says, then shakes her head, like she’s a touch embarrassed. “I’m just worried about Cynthia.”

Ah, hell. Here I thought she was giving me the cold shoulder again. But maybe she needs some strength, too, just like David did, so I try to give it to her. “She’s going to be fine. David’s going to be fine. We will know more after her surgery and figure out how we can help her and David. We’re going to do this tonight for him, and it’s going to be amazing,” I say, reassuring her.

Harlow’s green eyes widen.

Ethan grins.

Layla smiles warmly. “It is. Thanks. I needed that.” She gestures to her friends. “They’re going to help me set up. I’ll see you when it starts.”

She sounds a little wistful but also resigned. I’m desperate to grab her hand and steal a moment. But instead, as she heads off, I watch her go.

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