He lifted his head.
“Nothing changes,” he said, standing straight, leaving me to deal with the aftermath of that forehead touch. “Tomorrow we’ll come back and see the doctor together.”
“Tomorrow a Corrosion of Crownes arrives.”
“A what?”
“Crownes from all over the world are descending upon the Hall for the Holidays, and you want us to just slip out and go to a doctor’s appointment without being noticed?”
Ignoring me, he grabbed my phone and said, “Get dressed. I’ll take you home.”
“What are you doing with my phone?” I asked as he left the room.
“Adding my number. I should have done it months ago.”
He shut the door.
I slowly got dressed.
I could be friends with Grayson Crowne. I could do this.
But it wasn’t until we got back to the midnight-darkened spires of Crowne Hall, that doubt sewed its way into my blood. Grayson got out of the town car and opened my door for me.
“Are you still going to want to help me if I stay with West?” I asked.
He paused with the door. “What the fuck does West have to do with this?”
“He’s my husband.”
He angled his head, bending so he could see me clearly and I had a good view of his piercing eyes.
“And I’m going to fucking fix that. I’m going to save you. Get you out.”
Irritation wove in my veins. Save me? Why am I the only one who needs saving?
A black town car pulled up behind ours. Almost on instinct, we took a step back, blending into the great black shadows of Crowne Hall. The driver got out of the car and opened the sleek black door, as Grayson had done for me moments earlier.
A woman bent her head, getting out.
“If you save me from West,” I whispered, “then I should save you from Lottie.”
“It’s not the same. You’re trapped.”
“I’m not trapped.”
Grayson scoffed, as though what I’d just said was the most ridiculous thing.
I can leave any time.
Right?
But I couldn’t stop thinking about West’s proposal. His real proposal. Grayson was offering me a goodbye, and West was offering me a life.
“My mistake,” I said softly. “I know you chose her. But if you’re not trapped, Grayson, then neither am I.”
In my periphery, I saw he’d snapped his head to mine, but I watched the woman who’d just arrived. Her hands were warmed in a fur muff. Her dress long and flowing behind her. Her auburn hair in ringlets down her back. It was minutes past midnight, and she looked ready for a ball.
Josephine St. Germaine.