Page 48 of Make Me Queen

"Sir, yes sir,” Remington drawled, only sounding a little bit annoyed at Cain's order.

I smiled to myself, knowing that Cain just couldn't help himself.

As I stared around the room, it was amazing how empty it felt without Paxton. It was like a piece of me, a piece ofus,was missing. What were we going to do if—no, I couldn't think like that. Everything was going to be fine. There wasn’t any other option.

"Hey. Little Devil. No long faces. I'm sure Paxton's giving ole daddy hell," Remington said as he wrapped an arm around my waist. But his usual confidence was lacking. I leaned against him, relaxing into his touch.

After enduring another couple of minutes of Cain’s lecturing, we walked out into the carpeted hallway of the hotel and strode down to the elevator.

Remington was tapping against the railing inside the elevator the entire time, anxious energy threading through him.

"This is the first time you’ve seen him since everything happened, isn't it?" I asked softly. He nodded, biting down on his lip.

"I feel really badly about it. He's begged me to visit him every time I call, and with everything that's happened…It just wasn’t the right time." He sighed and rocked his head back against the elevator wall. "Doesn't it always feel like there's not enough time, not enough resources, not enough ways to fix everything?" Remington was usually the positive one of the bunch of us. He was always seeing a disaster and still picturing the glass half-full, no matter the circumstance.

"Yeah, it does," I answered, not knowing any words that would be sufficient enough to help him feel better. We would just have to be lost for a while and hope that there was light on the other side.

"What's that thing that you say to yourself sometimes?" Remington suddenly asked as the bell rang and the door opened into the underground parking garage beneath the hotel.

"Out of the darkness and into the light, to all that is good and all that is bright," I murmured, trying to channel the comfort that the words usually gave me.

He repeated the saying slowly. "Wow. I’m actually feeling a little bit better," he snarked sarcastically. I rolled my eyes and lightly socked him in the shoulder.

Remington pressed a kiss against my hair. "You’re shit at pep talks, sweetheart. Just letting you know that."

I sighed but didn't say anything in response.

He was right.

"So where does one go to get a little kids toy?" he asked as we slid into the car.

"Walmart?" I tossed out, snorting as his eyes widened comically…almost in panic.

"Why, Remington, are you that much of a snob, you can't go to Walmart? You know they have everything," I said mockingly.

"Well, I've never been. But I guess now's as good a time as any," he said slowly like I'd just announced that he should try drinking out of a toilet.

"Fucking rich boy," I snarked as he typed in ‘Walmart’ into his GPS.

All of a sudden, he pointed excitedly at the screen. "Target. Tar-Jay. How do the French pronounce it?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I asked.

"Target. That's where we’re going to go. I've heard that place is the fucking shit."

"I just want to know how you honestly have survived without ever having been to a normal store?"

We drove out of the parking garage, the sunlight momentarily blinding me.

"I mean, it's a rough life, what with the private yachts, and the house staff that took care of everything, but someone had to endure it," he said loftily as if he was actually the Prince of England.

Although I guess being a billionaire’s son was as close to that as you could get in America.

“This is going to be fun,” I said sarcastically as we made our way towards the nearest Target.

The parking lot was already filled despite it being first thing in the morning—the power of the bullseye brand.

Remington was eyeing it like I’d taken him to a junk yard instead of the best store on earth.

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