Chapter Twenty-Four
“Will Ryane Windsome please come to the stage?” Patrick’s voice echoed through the ballroom and into the little back hallway Ryane managed find after the complete disaster with Knight.
Where was Knight? Wasn’t he supposed to be running after her, following her, telling her how much he loved her, and he was sorry for doubting her?
The door opened in her hidden space and a slice of light cut through the darkness.
“Knight. She gasped and her heart seized. No he would never let her walk away, and end it. He only needed to collect his thoughts.
“It’s Bobbie.” Her assistant tiptoed inside. “It’s eleven fifty-nine.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” She shook her head. No Knight, only Bobbie with a reminder of her failures.
Their last words said it all. There was no more magic. An illusion. Her whole life was nothing but a big façade. On the outside, she had everything and in the course of the last three minutes she was nothing but an empty shell, one of her own making.
Never in one million years would she have guessed that her Knight was part of the band Spectre. She didn’t know why she didn’t see it. When she looked at him, she only saw the man she fell in love with, not some rock star. How many people could pick out all the members of a band that last toured a decade ago? Apparently, she was the only one.
Never in two million years would she have guessed that her Knight was the owner of the little cottage. All the time they spent in that clearing and never once did he think to take her inside, even when she told him she wanted him to make love to her in a bed.
Her stomach twisted.
He accused her of knowing who he was and even using that knowledge to her advantage. Little did he know she was nothing at Windsome Holdings. The spoiled daughter of a businessman. An empty suit.
What did he think she was doing on the property anyway? Apparently, he didn’t have any inkling as to her last name.
She would choose to remember them as two lost souls who found each other in a time of need, but she could never be with him if he doubted her the first chance he got.
“Miss Windsome, everyone is watching and waiting. It’s going to be midnight,” Bobbie whispered. “This is important.”
“Midnight.” The magic moment now gone.
“Your father…” she let her voice trail off.
A shudder ran through Ryane. Everything always barreled down to the company, her father, who was watching. “Get a car ready.” She and Knight weren’t through. She would find him and talk to him, but first she could give him a little demonstration on what it was like to live her life.
The second she stepped out, a drumroll started and a spotlight hit her. She shielded her eyes and as she moved through the crowd she searched for Knight, but the glare prevented her from seeing anything.
Two uniformed waiters helped her up on the stage with Patrick. Where was her father? Where was Knight?
“There you are.” Patrick took her hand.
Once more, she glanced out at the audience that had gathered around the stage.
Well, not everyone.
Knight was nowhere to be found.
Tears heated her eyes.
“Ryane.” Patrick pulled her closer. “On this momentous night commemorating this important anniversary, I have a question to ask you.”
Did Knight leave? Where did he go? Her heart sped, she had to get off this stage and go find him.
“Ryane.” Patrick got down on one knee.
She blinked and took in the scene before her, rewound Patrick’s words, looked down at him in a position a man only took for one reason. “Patrick.”
“As I said, I have a question to ask you.” He reached into his tuxedo jacket.
She stared at him. One day this man would want to get married to someone, someone he deserved, and when he got down on his knee a second time and reached into his jacket, she could not have him remembering that at one time he proposed to someone else who turned him down so she did the only thing she could do to help them both and got down on her knees, wincing when she felt a couple of seams on her dress pop. “And my answer is now is not the time for questions.”
His hand moved away from his tuxedo jacket and squeezed her hand. “No questions?” he whispered.
“I’m sorry. I wish I wanted to answer your question.” Something was wrong with her.
Patrick nodded and helped her stand. “Again, I want thank everyone for helping celebrate Windsome Holdings.”
Among the muttering of the crowd, he kept hold of her hand and they made their way off the stage, she took the lead and led him to back to the hallway behind the ballroom.
Before the door shut behind them, her father slammed through the entrance with her three assistants behind him. “Ryane, what is the meaning of this? We are supposed to be celebrating your engagement!”
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t let Patrick go through with it. I can’t marry him. It’s not that I don’t want to, its not that he isn’t the most amazing man, but…” She swallowed and put her hand over her eyes.
“She loves someone else.” Patrick put his arm around her.
In the dim light of the back corridor, she gazed up at the man. “I didn’t plan on it to happen. I didn’t even know who he was until tonight.”
“Who?” Her father raised his voice. “Who can you love without even knowing him?”
“Knight.” She cleared her throat. “Nash.” For the first time, she allowed herself to say his real name aloud.
“Nash Cinder?” Her father crossed his arms. “You fell in love with one of the ten best guitarists in the world, and you didn’t know who he was?”
The whole situation was insane, no one but Knight would believe her. “I met him at Los Padres, he was there for me, I was there for him and until tonight we didn’t know each other’s names. I had no idea what Patrick had planned, I thought Nash would be here by midnight, and I could explain everything to you.”
“In my entire life, I have never heard such insanity,” her father growled. “You can’t love someone you don’t know.”
“I do know him. Maybe I know him better than anyone else because of all I didn’t know.” She stood up straighter. “I have to find him and talk to him.”
“Miss Windsome.” The glass walking stick Nash used to enter the ballroom in her hands, Belinda came forward. “I believe he left the building.”
Ryane gently took the glass masterpiece away from her assistant and studied the intricate engravings.
“I think what you don’t know about Nash Cinder is a lot,” her father said.
She shrugged. “I still have to find him.”
“Ryane, I can say with no uncertain terms that I have never been more disappointed in you than I am at this moment. You have disgraced our family and Patrick.” Her father handed her a crumpled mass of papers.
She glanced at the signed documents for the Los Padres land. There was more to this transaction than she knew. Something told her he gave up a lot when he put ink to paper. “I’m going to find him.”