Page 109 of Prelude To You

“For as long as she’s with me, I’ll take care of her,” George replied. “Is she okay?”

Meg shook her head no. “Some men, you know. Can only take them to a place three times. Second time to apologize and a third time to take back the stolen goods.”

George laughed out loud. I was glad someone thought this was all very funny.

As I arranged the confectionary boxes in the back seat, George shot them a longing gaze.

“I can offer you one, George,” I said. “But your rules dictate that I might want to poison you.”

He laughed. “Today I’ll take one, Miss Le Roche. I think it’s safe to say that you’re not infiltrating the estate with murder on your mind.”

“Only if you call me Isabel.”

I held open the box with the eclairs, and George gingerly took one. “Thank you, Isabel. This looks delicious.”

Before I climbed into the back, Meg took me aside and pinched my cheeks.

“Okay, that hurt,” I grumbled.

“Do that a lot during the day. You’re white as a frickin’ ghost. Your cheeks need color.”

“Sure.”

"So any time you feel overwhelmed, sad or just need to vent, you text or call me.”

“I can’t. They take my phone.”

“Then you find a phone, okay.” Meg cupped my face and looked at me like she was seeing me off to war. “How do you feel?”

“Okay-ish… Actually shitty, but I’ll get through it.”

“That’s my girl. And if it’s any consolation, you have a better chance of getting hit by a train than ever coming face to face again with that man.”

With those parting words, I slipped into the back seat, and George closed the door. Soon we were off to the estate.

Even if George bent the rules by taking a pastry, he stuck religiously to the rest of the protocol. My phone was in his hands before the car’s engine started, and three minutes into the ride the windows went dark and the divider went up.

I was once again divorced from the outside world, and it left me with nothing to do but wrestle with my own harrowing thoughts. Which inevitably led to me biting back tears. Again.

I couldn’t stop thinking that after the night Roman and I had, he sent that creep in to deal with me like I had a secret agenda of some kind. Was that who Roman really was? A pretender and destroyer of souls?

My mortification reached a new low. I only had to close my eyes to feel him wrap me in his arms like that was exactly where I belonged. Those kisses were not from a man who felt nothing. Or maybe I needed to check my naivete at the door next time before chasing down a silly dream.

But even now, farther away from it all and knowing what I did, there was something inside me that still ached for Roman.Something that didn’t want to believe he was capable of being such a complete bastard.

The bitterest pill of all to swallow was my pride still wilting so readily at the mere thought of the man. I needed to get rid of this hollow pain and I had no idea how. The little sleep I got didn’t help, and I had to dig deep inside to pull myself together and pretend everything was fine.

The windows cleared and the visor receded, and I knew we were reaching the estate. I frantically searched for tissues to wipe my face. George watched me in the rearview mirror. “Everything okay, Isabel?”

I nodded and pushed out the brightest smile I could manage. “I’m fine. Just seasonal allergies.”

He handed me a bottle of water and small pouch with tissues inside.

“Thank you, George.”

“Anything I can do?”

“No, thank you. It just has to work itself through.”

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