Chapter 10

“How long has it been like this?”

“A week.”

“Doesn’t anyone think it’s…odd? That maybe something else needs to be done?”

“I think right now they’re grasping at straws and doing what they can.”

They paused.

“This can’t keep going. Someone needs to be the voice of reason.”

Savannah reached out to stop Vivienne from going down to Riley’s man cave. “I’m one step ahead of you.”

For a week, Dylan had been staying with the Shaughnessys, and he’d been under twenty-four-hour watch. Riley, Matt, Julian, and Mick had been taking turns being with him because he was so depressed and somehow had managed to find an unopened magnum of Grey Goose that he kept close to his body with his casted arm. No one was willing to argue with him about it, thinking he’d eventually snap out of the funk he was in, but he’d gotten more despondent.

“He’s not sleeping,” Savannah explained. “That’s what triggered the ’round-the-clock schedule. He’s so fragile, and all he does is stay down there in the recliner playing chess.”

“Has he eaten?”

“Barely. I bring food, and he eats a little. I bring him bottles of water, and he’s drinking those. I keep waiting for him to let go of that bottle of vodka.”

“How’d he get it?”

“It’s not ours, so he had to have gotten it from the hotel when he and Riley stopped there on their way home from the hospital.”

“Has he had any?” Vivienne asked.

“No, but it’s the fact that he has it and is holding on to it that’s worrying everyone.”

“What’s the plan, then? You said you were one step ahead of me.”

“I’m going to interview him,” Savannah said sweetly as she picked up her coffee mug and took a sip.

“Um…what?” Vivienne asked in confusion.

“The only way to fight against a bully is to take away the power. For the last couple of days, I’ve been strategizing with the guys and my old boss, Tommy, over at Rock the World and managed to get some press time to present Dylan’s story. He hasn’t given any interviews about his past addiction, rehab, or either accident, and we’re going to give him the outlet to do it.”

“Wow, but…what if he doesn’t agree?”

Savannah grinned. “I can be very persuasive. Trust me. And I’m not afraid to fight dirty either.”

“Savannah, no offense, but the last thing Dylan needs right now is one more person manipulating him.”

“I’m not going to manipulate him. I know how to do my homework.”

The look on Vivienne’s face showed she wasn’t convinced. “What are you going to do?”

The doorbell rang and Savannah gracefully got up from her seat. “You’re about to find out.”

* * *

“Checkmate.”

“Unreal,” Riley said as he collapsed in his seat. “Beat me again.”

Dylan glared at him. “You weren’t trying.”

“Dude, I’ve been playing chess for six days and I don’t even know how!” Riley said with a laugh. “You should be impressed the game lasted longer than twenty minutes this time.” He looked at his watch. “I’m ordering pizza tonight. Why don’t you go grab a shower before Matt gets here?”

With a shrug, Dylan stood and stretched, the magnum of vodka still in his hand. He knew it was pissing everyone off that he had it, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to drink it. That wasn’t why he had it. He had it to prove he was strong—stronger than he’d ever been—and it didn’t matter what temptation was right there in his lap, he could beat it.

On the surface, he was fine. He was healing. His bruises from the accident were fading, and his wrist wasn’t throbbing quite so much. It was his heart that wasn’t healing.

Why. Why had he let Robert Walters put him in this situation? Why had he caved?

Because you already knew Paige was too good for you and didn’t deserve a lifetime of dealing with your past and reputation.

Oh, yeah. That’s why.

There wasn’t a minute that had gone by when he hadn’t thought about her. Worried about her. Longed for her. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that if he tried to reach out to her, Robert would hold true to his threat and annihilate him in the press. How could he, with a clear conscience, let that happen? After all, it wouldn’t only affect him. It would also affect the band. His friends. His family.

And Paige.

He’d seen the missed calls, and each and every time he had to fight with himself to keep from calling her.

Maybe there’d come a day when he’d be able to think about her without his heart squeezing painfully in his chest, or maybe, just maybe he’d get to see her, even from a distance, so he could know she was okay.

But that day wasn’t today.

So he went into the bathroom and showered. He brushed his teeth. He changed his clothes. It was about all he could handle. God, his friends were probably so tired of this. Of him. It was probably time for him to leave Riley’s and move back into his suite at the Beverly. Dylan knew he was strong enough. If he could sit here with a bottle of vodka in his hands all day, every day for a week without the slightest urge to drink it, he knew he could handle it alone.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror and grimaced. Yeah, the bruises were fading, but he hadn’t shaved, and he looked worse than he ever had after a bender.

Something had to give.

Just not today.

He opened the guest bathroom door and stepped into Riley’s basement living area and froze. “What the hell?”

In front of him stood…everyone—Riley, Savannah, Matt, Vivienne, Julian, Mick, and a couple of people he didn’t know. He was tempted to step back into the bathroom and slam the door, but Savannah’s words stopped him.

“We are not going to let you destroy yourself, Dylan.”

Wait…what?

She looked at the people around her and then took a step forward. “What Robert did and threatened to do wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair, and it certainly wasn’t ethical. And what’s worse is it left him in total control—he’ll be able to dangle that threat over your head forever.” She paused. “Unless you beat him at his own game.”

Panic threatened to overwhelm him as he looked from one person to the other. No, he couldn’t do this—couldn’t do anything! The thought of fighting Robert and losing and hurting Paige even more was too much.

“I can’t beat him,” Dylan said gruffly. “My past speaks for itself.”

“Dylan,” Mick said as he came to stand next to Savannah, “our PR people already took care of the accident story. No one thinks you caused it. There were so many witnesses, and it’s public record the other guy was at fault.”

“Mick, I saw the news.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…you got one or two of the sleazier tabloids who wanted to try to get some attention by bringing up the Vegas incident, but no one took the bait and the story died.” He smiled and took another step forward. “Allow me to introduce you to some people,” he began, and motioned toward the group of people behind him.

“There on the end in the black jacket? That’s Erik Anderson. He’s the head of the legal team at the label. Next to him? That’s Michelle Jacobs, head of PR. Beside her is Richard Patrick, our insurance broker. Over there next to Julian? You know that’s Tommy from Rock the World. And sitting on the arm of the sofa is Anthony Litchford, the best damn photographer in the entertainment industry.”

Dylan was confused. He looked warily at Mick. “And? I don’t understand what this all means.”

“It means,” Riley said as he took his turn stepping forward, “we all have your back. For every threat that Robert made, we have someone here to counter it.”

But Dylan shook his head. “I don’t want to fight him. I don’t. I…I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” Savannah said firmly. “You’re going to sit down with me, and we’re going to talk, and then your story is going to be told. Why? Because the longer you stay silent, the more power he has.”

“We can sue him for slander,” Mick said. “Actually, we can do more than that—we can make sure PRW is done in the PR industry.”

“No,” Dylan insisted. “Don’t.”

“Why not?” Mick asked with annoyance. “That prick threatened you and pretty much everyone in this room. Give me one good reason why we can’t crush him.”

His shoulders dropped as his entire body went lax with defeat. “Because he’s Paige’s father. If you destroy PRW, you’re destroying her, and she doesn’t deserve that.”

Everyone grew quiet.

“I appreciate how you’re all here and that you want to do this for me, I really do, but…I don’t want to stoop to that level.”

“Will you do the interview?” Savannah asked softly.

He nodded. “That I’ll do. But I don’t want this to be an attack piece on Robert. Promise me that.”

She frowned. “Okay, fine. But…”

“Am I late? Oh my God, am I late? I got lost and…”

Dylan looked up as Daisy raced down the stairs. Everyone turned and looked at her, and Dylan had to wonder what she was doing there.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” she said breathlessly. “I got a little lost.”

Savannah walked over and hugged her and took a folder from the young woman’s hands. Then she turned and faced Dylan with a grin. “We’re not going to need to do an attack piece on Robert,” she said as she waved the folder. “Not anymore, anyway.”

There was a time when Dylan remembered Riley talking about how brilliant his wife was, and it looked like he was about to have a front row seat to finding that out for himself.

* * *

“I have to admit, I never quite got the appeal of this.”

“I think it’s something you either enjoy or you don’t,” Paige said as she studied the chessboard. She’d loved playing the game with her grandfather, and she loved playing it with Dylan. With Kathy? Not so much. “Sorry. We can do something else.”

Kathy sat back and smiled. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“I’ve been here with you now for the better part of two weeks,” she began, “and physically, you are doing great. Your incisions are healing well, you’ve said you’re not uncomfortable, and you are maneuvering around on your crutches like a pro.”

“O-kay…”

“You’ve been taking it easy and getting plenty of rest, and I was wondering why you’re not more interested in getting back to work.”

Paige looked at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Shifting in her seat, Kathy was quiet for a moment. “Okay, most of the younger patients I work with are champing at the bit to go back to work. I know your assistant has come here several times and—excuse me if I’m being too bold but—you never let her talk to you about work. I guess I’m curious. Don’t you like your job?”

“Not really,” she said and then gasped. It was the first time she had ever admitted it out loud. “I mean…I…um…”

Reaching toward her, Kathy tried to put her at ease. “Paige, it’s all right. Really. I know it’s none of my business, but if you want to talk about it…”

And then it was like opening the floodgates. For the next thirty minutes, she told Kathy about her positions in the company and her hopes and frustrations and how she felt like no one took her seriously and how it was like being undermined at every turn. “I know that must sound awful because I’m talking about my own family.”

“Sometimes family can be the worst offenders,” Kathy countered. “Paige, if you’re miserable, you should do something about it. You’ve got at least another month at home—use that time to do a little soul-searching and a little job hunting. You can spend your days thinking about what it is that would make you happy.”

“I wish it were that simple. My father—”

“Isn’t going to be happy,” Kathy interrupted. “There’s no doubt about that, but he’ll get over it. If he hasn’t appreciated your hard work by now, then it really shouldn’t be an issue.” She paused and then a big smile crossed her face. “Okay, let me ask you something—and you have to say the first thing that comes to your mind. No thinking about it, okay?”

Paige nodded.

“If you could have any job you wanted, what would it be?”

“I’d have my own small PR firm where I could work directly with clients.”

Then Kathy spread her arms in front of her as if to say, There you go! What’s stopping you?

“I don’t want to be in direct competition with my family. How would that look?”

“I would imagine you wouldn’t be taking on the same kind of clients. Where your father’s company takes on big corporate accounts, you’d get to work with the small business owner or the new business owners and help them create their image. I think it could be very exciting!”

And it could. Paige knew that. She’d dreamed of it, but…could she do it? “I don’t know… I’m not good at that sort of thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, standing up for myself and making waves. I tend to just…” She shrugged. “I’m the pushover of the family, and I tend to do what I’m told and not argue about it.”

“Hmm…maybe it’s time to change that up a bit,” Kathy said. Then she rose and went toward the kitchen. “What are you thinking of for dinner tonight? Want me to whip something up, or did you have something specific in mind?”

Paige heard the question, but her mind was on their conversation. “You decide,” she answered distractedly. Relaxing against the sofa cushions, she let the idea take root. Change things up. Could she do that? It was the perfect time for it. Forced to stay home and recuperate, she wasn’t in the office to take care of everyone and make sure work was being done. And though she refused to let Daisy come over and talk about work, Ariel had called enough to complain and ask questions that Paige knew they were foundering a bit without her.

And boy did it feel good.

It was petty but…there it was.

Her iPad was on the coffee table, and she reached for it and began doing a little research on what she would need to get started. Office space would be nice, but if she had to, she could work from home to start out and convert her second guest room into an office. That would save her some money. And she was involved with a lot of different groups, so she could start looking for clients, and it wouldn’t mean taking anyone away from PRW.

She had no idea how long she had been searching and scrolling when Kathy came into the room with a tray of food.

“I decided to go with the enchiladas I picked up from Whole Foods yesterday. I hope that’s all right.”

Paige blinked at her a few times as she tried to remember why Kathy was bringing in food. Oh, right. It was dinnertime. As if on cue, her stomach growled. “That sounds great and smells even better. Thank you.”

“You seemed pretty engrossed in what you were doing, so I thought you’d want to eat out here. Or we can eat at the dining room table if you’d like?”

“No, no, this is fine. Thanks!” It was beginning to make her feel a little lazy to keep enjoying her meals while sitting on the sofa, but it was the easiest way to keep her ankle elevated while still being comfortable. Positioning the tray over her lap, Paige inhaled the wonderful aroma of the meal. “I think I’m going to get spoiled.”

“Why?”

“Between you cooking for me and all the takeout, by the time this cast comes off, I’m going to forget what it’s like to cook!”

That had Kathy laughing. “I’m sure it will come back to you soon enough, like riding a bike.” She looked around at their dinner trays. “I’m going to grab some drinks, so don’t wait on me. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Manners that had been instilled in her since childhood prevented Paige from picking up her fork. The tray had just about everything she could need on it—napkins, silverware, a small cup of sour cream—and as soon as she had a drink, she’d be all set.

Kathy came into the room and placed their beverages down before picking up the TV remote. “How about a little TV while we eat?”

“Sounds good to me. And if we can find something that is not house-hunting related, all the better.” They had watched a marathon of the show the day before, and Paige was completely burned out on the whole concept.

“I’m with you on that one,” Kathy commented as she began scanning the channels. She stopped at one as she situated her own dinner tray. “I hope you don’t mind, but…I’m addicted to these entertainment news shows.”

Paige waved her off. “That’s fine. I could go for a little mindless TV right now. My brain is too full of ideas about office rental space and…”

Dylan’s face was up on the television screen and Paige simply froze.

Shaughnessy bassist, Dylan Anders, addresses rumors that he’s heading back to rehab…

“Isn’t that a shame?” Kathy said as she looked up at the television. “From what I’ve read in the papers, there was no proof he’s gone back to drinking. Why can’t people accept that and leave the poor guy alone? Sheesh.”

Indeed, Paige thought.

Her appetite was gone as she listened to entertainment reporter Julie Mize question Dylan.

“Three weeks ago, you were involved in another car accident. What happened?” she asked.

Paige could tell he had makeup on his face to cover the bruises—she knew his face so well—and her fingers twitched with the need to touch him. Her heart raced as she listened to him recount the events of that horrible morning—not that he mentioned their argument…

“I was driving my girlfriend to work. We were a block away from her office, waiting to make a left turn,” he said calmly. “We had the right-of-way, the arrow turned green, and I pulled out into the intersection and…” He paused. “I remember the sounds. I remember hearing the metal crunching, the glass breaking, and Paige screaming.”

“And then?” Julie prompted.

“Then…nothing,” he replied. “The next thing I knew I was in the hospital with a team of doctors and nurses around me. I was confused and terrified, and I had no idea how I had gotten there.”

“Dylan…were you drinking? Were you under the influence of any alcohol that morning?”

“I haven’t been under the influence of alcohol in almost a year,” he said firmly. “I successfully completed my time in a rehabilitation center, I go to weekly AA meetings. I’ve met every term of my community service, and I find it painful that people refuse to see who I am now because they want to keep looking at my past.”

“It’s a very colorful past,” Julie said. “You have to admit, it’s hard to believe that in a year’s time, you’ve become a pillar of the community.”

Dylan chuckled. “I’d hardly call myself that. I know what I am and I know what I’ve done. But the accident was the fault of the driver who was speeding and ran a red light. He managed to walk away with very few injuries. Paige and I were less fortunate.”

Hearing him say her name had her tearing up.

“Tell us about your injuries,” Julie said sympathetically, and Paige wanted to punch her. Her words were sympathetic, but the way she was openly admiring Dylan was pissing Paige off.

“I had a concussion and cut my head open,” he said and pushed his hair back to show the scar. “I broke my wrist, so I haven’t been able to play any music and won’t be able to for another month or so. I’ve got bruised ribs and the impact really banged me up from head to toe.”

“And your girlfriend? Is she all right?”

He shook his head. He was visibly shaken up and took a moment to compose himself. “When I woke up, no one would tell me where she was or what had happened to her. I had to wait for hours before someone would tell me. She ended up needing surgery for internal injuries, and she broke her ankle and was bruised and banged up pretty bad. The passenger side took the hit so…” He stopped and shook his head. “It was awful.”

“Did she blame you?” Julie asked, and Paige wanted to jump up and scream at the TV. Why would she ask something like that? She wanted to cry out for Dylan not to answer, but she knew this wasn’t live TV.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “Her family did. I know I blamed myself for it, even though I know it was someone else’s bad decision that caused the accident, I blame myself because I couldn’t keep her safe.”

“What’s next for you, Dylan?”

Paige found herself leaning forward a little in anticipation. What was next for him?

“I need to finish healing,” he said. “I’m taking life one day at a time. And I plan on proving a lot of people wrong—I’m not the same man I was a year ago. I’m not even the same man I was three months ago.”

“What happened three months ago?”

He gave a small smile—it was the kind he used to give to her when they were in a meeting or in a crowd, and she knew it was private and meant for her.

“That was when I first met Paige,” he replied. “She was the first person to believe in me.” He stopped and laughed softly. “Although, at first she didn’t like me. Like so many other people, she took one look at me and thought she had me all figured out.”

“And she didn’t?” Julie asked with amusement.

Dylan shook his head. “No. She didn’t. And I was okay with it because I did the same thing to her. Then we started spending time together, and…well…she makes me want to be a better man. She’s shown me how good my life can be, and I can’t imagine what I did to be lucky enough to have her in my life.”

“But you don’t,” Paige whispered. Her hand instantly flew to her mouth to cover it, but not before Kathy turned to her.

“So…wait…you’re the Paige he’s talking about? You were in the accident with Dylan Anders?”

Paige never looked away from the television screen as she nodded. “I was.”

“But…he’s talking as if you’re still together.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I know.”

Both women sat in silence as Julie Mize thanked Dylan for his time and the show went to a commercial break. Paige hated how she couldn’t see his face or hear his voice. She began to look frantically around for her phone because she knew she had to call him, had to find out what he meant by what he’d said. If he still felt that way about her, why was he staying away?

Kathy jumped up and grabbed Paige’s phone from the coffee table and handed it to her. “Oh, this is so exciting! You’re calling him, right? You’re going to call him!”

With trembling hands, she pulled up his number and called.

It went directly to voicemail. Again.

“Hey, this is Dylan. You know what to do.”

“Son of a bitch!” she hissed.

This time, however, she left a message.

“Dylan, it’s Paige. I want to talk to you. I saw your interview on TV and…well…I think we… I mean… We should … Dammit.” She paused. “I miss you. Call me. Please.”

And then she hung up and placed the phone on the sofa beside her.

Kathy sat and sighed. “I’m sorry, Paige.”

“Yeah, me too. It didn’t even ring. It went directly to voicemail again.”

“How many times have you tried to call him since the accident?”

“A couple of times.” She shook her head. “I know I should have tried harder but…I was hurt and I thought he’d come to me. I don’t understand—how can he say all that on national TV and not call me?” she asked with dismay. “How could he sound so believable when it’s all a lie?”

“Oh, sweetie, I don’t think it’s all a lie. Maybe he thinks you’re mad at him because of the accident.”

“If he answered his phone, he’d know that I wasn’t!”

Rather than say anything, Kathy changed the channel, and they ended up on HGTV. Tonight’s marathon was on tiny houses.

And suddenly, they didn’t seem like a bad idea. If she could hitch her house to a pickup and drive away right now, Paige knew she’d do it in a heartbeat.

* * *

“Keep the faith.”

That was the text she had received from Dylan, and for the life of her, she had no idea what it meant. She wanted to take it as a good sign, but when he didn’t respond to her texts or her repeated voicemails, it was hard to.

On Monday, Paige asked Kathy to drive her to the PRW offices. She wanted to get out of the house a bit and had finally come to some hard decisions. For starters, she didn’t want to go back to work for her father. She had always loved doing PR work, but if she stayed with PRW, she knew she’d end up hating it. Right now, she almost did. Her creativity was being stifled, and even more than that, she was being stifled. Paige knew she deserved more—had more in her to give—and this wasn’t the right fit for her any longer.

Kathy had not been one hundred percent on board—she thought the stress of a confrontation would be too taxing on Paige—but she’d eventually caved and agreed to take her. As they rode up to the sixth floor in the elevator, she seemed ill at ease.

“If you want, there’s a coffee shop on the corner. You could go and wait there,” Paige suggested. “I don’t know how long I’ll be, but I promise not to make this an all-day event.”

“No, no, no…I want to be supportive. I egged you on about this and I’m excited to see how it all plays out. Plus, I need to know you’re okay. I know I’m a temporary part of your life, just an aide helping you during your recovery, but I’ve come to think of you as a friend too.”

“Thanks, Kathy,” Paige said as she balanced on her crutches and reached over to squeeze one of Kathy’s hands.

“I picture you going all badass on your dad and making him grovel a little,” Kathy said with a hint of amusement.

“I think you’re going to be disappointed,” she replied with a small laugh. “We don’t make scenes in the Walters family. My father will give me a disapproving look and try to intimidate me by saying we’ll talk about this when I’m better, but Daisy’s already packing up my office for me.”

“Maybe I’ll help her with that, so I’m not in the way.”

“I’m sure she’d appreciate it. She’s supposed to get someone to assist us. We’ll probably need a hand truck or something to get everything to the car.”

Kathy nodded. “I’ll be sure to help her with that too.”

When they arrived on their floor, Paige made her way out into the hallway and took a steadying breath.

“Do you want me to walk with you to your dad’s office?”

Paige shook her head. “No. I’ll be okay.” Then she gave Kathy directions to her office, where she’d find Daisy. “I’ll text you when I’m done.”

“Okay. Good luck!”

It took Paige a little longer to finally get to her father’s office because so many people stopped to talk to her. It was so good to see everyone and she appreciated all their well-wishes, but for every minute she was delayed, the more she began to second-guess herself. When she finally had a clear path, she made it all of ten feet before Ariel spotted her.

“Paige! What are you doing here? Are you ready to come back to work, because there are some things you need to look at—”

“I’m not here to work, Ariel,” she said with a sweet smile and kept on hobbling. “I’m here to see Dad.”

“So…that’s kind of like work. I know he’s going to want you to look at this stuff and—”

Paige stopped in her tracks and looked at her sister. “I’m not here to work,” she said slowly, carefully enunciating each word. “There is nothing I have to look at. Now I really need to go.”

“Oh,” Ariel said as she took a step back—almost contritely. “Okay.”

And as Paige started moving away, she couldn’t help but marvel at how quickly her sister backed down. “Must be pregnancy hormones,” she murmured.

She was immediately ushered into her father’s office, and he stood and smiled at her as she made her way in.

“There’s my baby girl,” he said as he came around the desk to kiss her on the cheek.

“Hi, Dad.” She smiled and was relieved to ease into a chair.

Robert walked around the desk and sat. “You sounded pretty serious on the phone, Paige. Is everything all right? Are you feeling better? Will you need Kathy to stay with you another week?”

“Kathy has been wonderful but I think I’m going to be okay from here on out. I’m feeling so much better and stronger, and I’m able to get around fine. I still can’t drive, but I don’t think I’m going to have a problem finding a ride if I need one.”

“Well…if you’re sure. I don’t mind paying for her to stay for another week.”

“It’s fine, Dad. Really.”

“Then what’s on your mind? Are you anxious to get back to work?” he asked with a small, and somewhat awkward, laugh.

“Work is on my mind, but not in the way you think,” she began slowly.

Robert looked at her and some of his jovial and relaxed manner slipped. “Meaning?”

Taking a steadying breath, she let it out and looked him square in the eye. “Dad…I’m leaving PRW. I won’t be coming back after I get clearance from my doctor.”

“I see.” He paused. “Is this because of Dylan Anders?”

“What?” she asked incredulously. “No! No, Dylan has nothing to do with my decision. Why would you ask that? I haven’t talked to him since the accident.” It did seem like an odd comment for him to make. Since the crash, Dylan’s name had never come up in any conversation with her family, so it was weird that her father would choose now to mention him.

“You’ve never been defiant before, Paige. Suddenly you get involved with this musician and you’re taking time off and refusing to work and—”

“I was in a car accident, for crying out loud! It’s not like I took off to go backpacking through Europe or something! God, do you even hear yourself?”

Robert held up a hand to stop her. “You’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry. That was a complete misrepresentation of the situation.”

She rolled her eyes. “Dad, can you please talk to me like a normal person? I’m leaving because I’m not happy here. It’s obvious I don’t fit in with what you’re looking for at PRW, and honestly, I’m tired of trying to prove myself.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Let’s start with my appearance. I’m never going to dress like Ariel,” she said, her heart beating like mad in her chest. “This is the person I am. I don’t think being someone else’s clone makes me a better employee.”

“Paige, honey, I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have an issue with how you dress.” He shrugged. “And no one’s ever said that they did.”

Figures, she thought. Yet another way her sister was trying to undermine her.

“Okay, never mind. I know where that one came from. But I’m also talking about how you never let me lead a campaign, how you think it’s okay to pass me over time and time again, how you put Ariel in charge of everything and then she dumps all the work on me and she still manages to get the credit!”

He sighed. “Are we back to this again? Sweetheart, this jealousy thing you have with your sister is getting old.”

If she didn’t have a cast on her foot, she would have stormed out. Now she had no choice but to stay put and see this thing through to the end. “This isn’t about jealousy, Dad. This is about what is fair. I work very hard for you, and you have yet to acknowledge that. I have so much to offer, and I need to work someplace where that is appreciated. I am more than someone’s assistant and gofer.” She paused. “And I think it’s time—”

Ariel came bustling through the door. “We have a problem,” she said nervously.

“What’s going on?” Robert asked.

Frustration boiled up in Paige. Awkwardly, she got to her feet and reached for her crutches. “Is it really too much to ask to have five freaking minutes with Dad without you having to come in and demand the attention?”

“Paige!” Robert admonished. “Is that kind of language necessary?”

“As a matter of fact, it is,” she snapped. “This is exactly the kind of thing I was talking about. This kind of behavior! Why can’t I have a private conversation with you without Ariel being here?”

“It’s not like she knew—”

“Yes, she did!” Paige cried. “I ran into her out in the hall and she was trying to get me to work and I told her no! And now here she is having—surprise, surprise—some crisis! Why can’t she manage to handle anything for herself? I always have to!”

Her father and sister were both silent for a moment, looking at her as if she’d grown a second head.

She looked directly at her sister and figured she’s already opened Pandora’s box, so she might as well go all the way with it. “And you,” she snapped, “go ahead and tell me again how Dad asked you to talk to me about my wardrobe because I’m not management material. Please.”

Ariel’s eyes went wide and she stared at Paige and then their father.

“Ariel?” Robert asked. “Why would you tell your sister something like that? I never asked you to—”

“Dad, we have a problem,” Ariel quickly interrupted. “I got a call from legal about the Literacy Now concert and—”

“Wasn’t that supposed to take place a week ago?” Paige asked, but neither of them were listening to her.

“There was a problem with the contracts, and everything else is ready to go for Friday night.”

“So what’s the problem, Ariel? Whatever it is, tell Darren and the team down in legal to handle it!” Robert said with frustration.

“That’s just it,” Ariel said with a sob. “They can’t handle it!”

“Why not?”

“Because we don’t have any bands to perform at the concert!” she cried. “The contracts were never signed and—”

“What?!” he roared.

“I…I thought someone else was handling getting the revised signatures from the bands, and now they’ve all backed out, and we don’t have any way of making them—”

“How is that possible?” Robert yelled. “How could you have forgotten to get the contracts signed? That was the first thing you had to do! What on earth were you thinking, Ariel?”

“Paige was supposed to—”

“Oh, no!” Paige quickly interrupted. “Don’t you dare put this on me! I was completely out of the concert talks and I’ve been away from the office for almost a month. This is your fault, Ariel. For once in your life, take responsibility for your own screwups.”

Ariel looked at her and then their father and began to cry. “I’m sorry, Daddy! This pregnancy has been so hard on me. And…and…I don’t know how to fix this.”

“We’ll see about this,” Robert growled as he walked around his desk to pick up the phone. “We had a verbal agreement, dammit, and that bastard will honor it or else.”

“Or else what?”

Paige turned at the sound of Dylan’s voice. He was standing in the doorway and looking sexier than anything she’d ever seen in her life. His eyes met hers, and she saw all the emotion she was feeling too. He walked over to her and gently caressed her face.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said softly.

“Hey, you,” she said, sighing at how good it felt to be near him again.

“Give me five minutes,” he said, “and then I want to talk to you. Okay?”

Nodding, she took a careful step back and watched in fascination as Dylan walked up to her father’s desk. A sound from the doorway drew her attention away, and she spotted Riley and Mick and about a half-dozen other people standing there. What in the world?

“Or else what?” Dylan repeated, looking at her father sternly.

“You were to finish the terms of your community service,” Robert said snidely. “And that includes the benefit concert.”

Dylan shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong. You see, the contract for my community service did not include the benefit concert. I think Ariel was supposed to draw that one up too and dropped the ball on it. Again. Now if Paige had been in charge, I’m sure this would be an entirely different scenario.”

Paige watched as her father sneered. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? A verbal agreement will hold up in court. And all the things I told you I’d do to you that day in the hospital? I promise you I’ll do all that and more.”

“Dad!” Paige cried. “What is wrong with you?”

“This…this punk thinks he’s going to come in here and get the better of me? I don’t think so!”

Paige moved toward the desk. “I don’t think he’s getting the better of you. You simply screwed up.”

“Paige!” her father snapped. “That is enough! As my daughter and an employee of PRW—”

“But I’m not an employee of PRW,” she reminded him. “Remember? I quit ten minutes ago.”

“You did?” Dylan asked, turning to look at her.

She nodded. “I did. But we’ll talk about that later.” Then she nodded toward her father. “Finish what you were going to say.”

Leaning in, Dylan gave her a quick kiss on the lips before returning his attention to Robert. “You can try to do the things you threatened me with, but you’ll only make yourself look like a fool. You probably haven’t noticed because you thought you were done with me, but I’ve been in the news. Actually, I’ve been in the news a lot. I had a feature story in Rock the World magazine, and I did a television interview with Entertainment Extra—you know, the top-rated entertainment show with Julie Mize? Well, that interview was their highest-rated episode last week. Needless to say, a lot of people saw it.”

“I saw it,” Paige said softly and blushed when Dylan smiled at her.

“You see, the public wasn’t looking at me like I’d relapsed. No one thought I was to blame for the accident. And all those people standing behind me? That’s my legal team and my label’s legal team and our insurance broker and the president of PR for the label. None of them see me as a risk.”

Robert’s jaw ticked, but he said nothing.

“Now, considering my arm is still in a cast, I knew I wasn’t going to be playing at any concert, and there was no way you could hold me liable for that. But considering your firm dropped the ball and you’re the ones who are going to end up looking foolish…well…I would think you’d be a little careful with what you say and do next.”

Turning, Dylan motioned for someone to come forward. Paige noticed the man in the Armani suit make his way over to the desk.

“Mr. Walters, I’m Erik Anderson of the law firm Anderson and Carter. From what I’ve learned from Mr. Anders and Mr. Shaughnessy, we have grounds for a case of slander against you. Normally that sort of thing can be handled without a whole lot of fuss, but in your case, I’d be willing to make an exception and make the biggest deal over it and drag your name through the press like you threatened to do to my client.”

“You can’t do that!” Robert cried.

“And when I’m done,” Erik went on as if her father hadn’t said a word, “do you think you’ll be getting many clients here at PRW? Do you think anyone will want to be associated with a firm that was going to lie and destroy a man’s reputation? And for what?”

Paige watched as her father slowly sank to his seat. “I was trying to protect my daughter,” he said quietly.

“No,” Paige said before anyone else could speak. “You were trying to control me. And I’m done with that. You don’t know me, and you certainly don’t respect me. And that adds to the list of reasons why I can’t work with you anymore.”

“But what about the concert?” Ariel cried.

Both Dylan and Paige rolled their eyes.

“Shaughnessy’s not performing,” Dylan said adamantly. “And not only because we don’t have a contract, but because we don’t want to do business with you. As for the other bands who were going to perform, they won’t be available either. Once we told them why we were pulling out, they said they would support us. And considering they didn’t sign anything, they’re in the clear as well.”

You could have heard a pin drop.

“But…but the concert was to benefit Literacy Now,” Ariel said weakly. “It wasn’t about PRW.”

And in that moment, Paige thought it was the most logical thing her sister had ever said.

“Dylan,” Paige began softly, “she has a point.”

But he shook his head. “I’ll talk to the people over at the Literacy Now office and explain to them that if they’d like to hold an event in the future, we’d be a part of it. But between this whole mess and my arm, it’s not possible right now.”

“And what about the other bands?” she asked.

Dylan studied her for a long moment. “If you—and only you—were working on it, I think we could make something happen. But I can’t make any promises.”

She nodded. As conflicted as she was about the entire situation—especially because this campaign had started out as something near and dear to her heart—Paige knew it was time to stop cleaning up everyone else’s mess.

“Considering I’m no longer an employee of PRW, it would not be for me to take over and organize another concert,” she said carefully. Then she turned to her father and sister. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to make something work. After all, you seem to think Ariel has all the answers and connections.”

Taking a step back, she looked at Dylan expectantly. “I need to head to my office to get my things. Daisy’s packing it all up.”

His smile was slow and sweet and sexy. “I’ll give you a hand.”

Riley stepped forward and kissed Paige on the cheek. “Why don’t you two go on ahead? I’ll help Daisy and get the things to your house, Paige. I think you guys need some time alone.”

They both nodded and said their goodbyes to Dylan’s support group. When Robert called out her name, Paige stopped and turned.

“Paige! You can’t simply leave like this!” he said heatedly. “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

She thought about it for a minute and then smiled. “Tell Mom I’ll call her in a day or two.” Then she waved and left.

Silently, she and Dylan made their way to the elevators. When the door opened, she preceded him in and did a little happy dance inside when he stepped in close beside her and hit the button for the lobby.

Dylan pulled up his phone and smiled but said nothing. The doors opened on the main floor, and she stepped out ahead of him and then out the front doors. She had no idea where they were going, but when he walked straight ahead to a waiting limo, she stopped.

“What are you doing?”

“This is one of the cars we all took over here. Mick texted that we can take it and everyone else will fit in the other cars. So…”

A giggle escaped before she could stop it. “The last time I rode in a limo was for my senior prom,” she said as she carefully climbed in. Dylan held her crutches and then handed them to the driver as he slid in beside her.

“The Beverly Hills Hotel,” he said to the driver before closing the door.

The Beverly. They were going to his suite. The grin that crossed her face was too powerful to hide. A million thoughts raced through her mind—along with as many questions for him. But for now, she was content to be beside him. She wanted to hold his hand, but the casted one was the closest.

“Are you hungry?” he asked softly. “I can call the hotel and have food sent up.”

Before she could say no because she wanted to focus on talking to him, her stomach growled loudly.

Beside her, he chuckled. “I guess I have my answer.”

“In my defense, I didn’t eat this morning. I was too nervous about going to talk to my father.”

He nodded, pulled his phone out, and called the hotel. Paige listened and let her head relax against the seat cushion as he ordered for them—nachos, cake pops, and cookies. With a happy sigh, she turned to him, “You remembered.”

Dylan turned fully to face her so his right hand could caress her face. “I remember everything, Paige,” he said softly.

With that one statement, she knew they were going to be all right. It didn’t matter what had happened over the past month—the time they were apart. After hearing what she did at her father’s office and the things Daisy had told her, she could pretty much figure out what had happened and why he had stayed away. And all that mattered now was that they were here together.

At the hotel, he helped her from the car, and together they made their way up to his suite. She hated the fact that they were both so banged up and in casts because she envisioned their reconciliation going much differently.

She sat on the sofa and Dylan put pillows under her foot and then got her something to drink. And when he sat beside her, she knew she couldn’t wait any longer. She reached for him and cupped his face in her hands and kissed him.

Casts or no casts, it was the exact kind of kiss she needed—hot and wet and needy.

On both their parts.

“Food…is…going…to…be…here…soon,” he said between kissing the line of her jaw.

The last thing she cared about now that they were touching and kissing was food, but as she was about to say so, there was a knock at the door. Dylan jumped up and she wanted to be offended, but he grinned at her.

“The sooner I answer it, the sooner they’ll leave.”

It was a good plan.

Dylan let the waiter put the tray on the coffee table for him and then tipped him and showed him out. When he returned, as much as Paige tried to ignore the food, she simply needed to eat something.

“Don’t hate me for opting for food at the moment,” she said and helped herself to a tortilla chip.

He chuckled beside her. “Never. Besides, I didn’t eat earlier either.” Together, they ate for several minutes in silence and Dylan was the first to speak again. “I never should have let anything keep me from you.”

She loved that he didn’t out-and-out blame her father—though they both knew he was at fault. “Dylan…”

He shook his head. “That day was hell, Paige. And so was every day after it until today.” He paused. “I wanted to come to you, to call you and talk to you, but I needed this whole threat to be out of the picture. I didn’t want that hanging over our heads.”

“I wish I had known sooner,” she admitted. “Daisy told me the things my dad accused you of the day of the accident, but I never thought it went beyond that. I thought you were mad at me because of our argument and…and…” Emotion clogged her throat, and she couldn’t speak.

“Hey,” he said, cupping her chin. “Never. I could never stay mad at you, Paige. I’m so sorry I put you in a position where I made you choose. And who am I to say what’s a healthy family relationship? It took me spending three months in rehab to finally tell my parents that they need to talk to me and how it’s okay to tell me when I screw up and disappoint them.” He released her chin and raked a hand through his hair.

“And have they?”

He nodded. “Granted, I’ve practically been a choir boy since rehab, so there hasn’t been too much for them to be disappointed about.” He chuckled. “Although they did tell me they were disappointed I was taking so long to go to you and beg for forgiveness.”

“You don’t have to beg, Dylan,” Paige said shyly. “You had good reason to stay away. I’m so sorry my father put you in that position. I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. That’s all on him and he’s going to have to deal with the consequences.”

She stiffened slightly. “Are you really going to sue for slander?”

Shaking his head, Dylan reached for his drink and took a sip. “No. That was never the plan. We needed to make him see he wasn’t holding all the cards. I don’t want to make things worse for you and your family. And if I destroyed PRW, that was going to hurt you.”

She shrugged. “I know it sounds cold but…not really. It felt so good to walk—well, hobble—in there and quit today!”

He smiled broadly at her. “I bet it did. I’m proud of you, Paige.”

No words had ever sounded sweeter. She leaned in and kissed him gently. “Thank you. I think this is going to be good for all of us.”

“What are your plans? Do you have another job lined up?”

“Not yet. I was thinking about starting up my own, much smaller, firm. But my focus right now is on recovering.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his tone laced with concern. Then he muttered a curse. “You had surgery, and you were so hurt and—”

She placed a finger over his lips. “My recovery has been great. I stayed an extra day in the hospital and I’ve had a home health aide staying with me ever since. Her name’s Kathy and…” She gasped.

“What’s the matter?”

“She went to help Daisy and I never texted her to let her know where I was!”

“I’m sure Riley took care of it, and Daisy knew what was going on.”

“Wait…what? How did Daisy know?”

“If you were still working for PRW, I’d say you need to give that girl a raise,” Dylan said before popping a cookie in his mouth. “She was the one who brought to our attention that Ariel had never sent over the contracts for the concert. It gave us the leverage we needed with your father.”

“Wow, I…I can’t believe. It’s so crazy to me.”

“Savannah planned a mini-intervention. I was staying with her and Riley and barely living, and she gave me the wake-up call I needed. She was the one who arranged the interviews and had the idea of reaching out to Daisy to try to get you to come. What the two of them ended up talking about—because you know how easily your assistant gets distracted—was how PRW was falling apart without you.”

“I don’t know if I’m upset or seriously impressed,” Paige commented.

“Go for seriously impressed because without her, I don’t know if we could have pulled off what happened today as magnificently as we did.”

Resting her head on his shoulder, she sighed. “I wish it didn’t have to come to that—for either of us.”

“I know, baby. And I’m sorry.”

“So what happens now?” she asked carefully. In her mind and her heart, she thought she knew where they were going—back together. Back to where they were before the accident. But she needed to hear it from him.

He was quiet.

And he kept being quiet.

Her heart started to race. Maybe she had gotten it wrong. Maybe she had misread the signs. Their kiss had been as hot as it always was, but maybe that was all this was going to be. Sex. Lust. Fooling around. They’d never exchanged house keys with each other or talked about a future so…

“Excuse me for a minute,” he said as he stood up.

Paige watched in confusion as he walked out of the room and into the bedroom, and she let out a weary breath. Would she be able to handle going back to the way things had been and knowing they weren’t ever going to progress? Could she realistically handle living in the moment and not having a plan? She looked toward the bedroom and saw him walking around, looking for something, and knew her answer.

Yes.

For Dylan, she could.

When he turned and walked toward her, she braced herself for what he had to say—the talk of how he needed them to go back to the way they were and how he’d be busy with the band and wouldn’t have a lot of time for her.

She took a deep breath and released it slowly.

You can do this, she told herself.

The last thing she expected was Dylan to scoop her up into his arms.

“Dylan!” she cried. “Your arm! What are you doing?”

“You asked what happens now and I figured you knew—I was taking you to bed and not letting you leave for a long time.”

His words were both thrilling and depressing.

He laid her on the bed and stood and looked at her—at her cast—and then to his own. “You know we’re going to have to get a little creative here, right?”

She couldn’t speak, so she smiled at him and nodded. Wanting Dylan was never in question, but her heart hurt right now as all her fears were proven to be true.

This was sex.

This was lust.

This was…Dylan down on one knee.

What?

“What are you doing?” she whispered, afraid she was seeing things.

“The area by the couch was too confined for what I knew I was going to do immediately after.” He gave her a sexy wink. “Paige Walters, you gave me hope when I thought I had nothing to live for. You made me smile when my world was gray. You showed me how this man that I am is all that I need to be. I don’t need the fake public persona—I don’t need to pretend to be anything else. Who I am is good enough. You challenge me, you push me, you sometimes aggravate me, but more than anything, you complete me.”

“Oh,” she said breathlessly.

“I love that you’re this prim and proper businesswoman during the day and behind closed doors you turn into this sexy, dirty girl just for me. I love how I’m the only one who gets to see that side of you. And I want to see that side and every side of you every day for the rest of my life.” He paused. “Paige Walters, will you let me love you, through good times and bad, through happiness and tears, and through every day and every challenge life throws at us?”

She nodded anxiously, her hand pressing over her fluttering heart. “I will, Dylan. I will!”

He stood and leaned over her and kissed her. It wasn’t the dirty, erotic kisses she craved.

It was better.

It was slow and tender and…everything. She pulled him down on top of her and reveled at the weight of him there. So long. It had been so long since she’d felt him there and it was everything she wanted.

When Dylan lifted his head, he studied her face. “I’m afraid we can’t go any further.”

She looked at him with confusion. “Because of the casts? I think we can make it work.”

Chuckling, he rested his forehead against hers. “No. Although that’s still going to be an issue, I’m sure.”

“Then…why?”

“Do you love me, Paige?” he asked, and she could hear the vulnerability in his voice, and she realized she had never said those words to him. Ever.

“Dylan Anders,” she said solemnly, “I love you. I look at you and I still can’t believe you’re mine. In a million years, I never would have thought a man like you, so strong and sexy and confident, would want someone like me. You scared the heck out of me when we met, and you helped me see that I was only living half a life. I can’t wait to see what life has in store for us. It’s exciting and scary and all that, but because you’re going to be by my side, I know I can do it.” She paused and caressed his stubbled jaw. “I love you.”

He grinned. “That’s my girl.”

Then it was a flurry of clothes flying and pillow placement and lots of sighs and cries of pleasure.

And yeah. Everything was going to be okay.