Dread forms a cold knot in my gut at the mention of Nick. And, yes, I do recognize this voice now. The fact that I do makes the dread I felt a moment ago corrode into something vile. Something poisonous and deadly.
How did he find me after all this time? The question no sooner burns through my thoughts than I recall the photo that was snapped of Nick and me at the mayor’s gala. The photo that went viral online. Dammit.
Anxious, I chance a look back at Nick now. He’s still at the reception desk, having just signed for our room. The young clerk smiles at him as he takes the key from her, then starts to turn in my direction.
“We need to talk,” says the voice on the other end of the line. “I’ll be in touch.”
The connection is cut, and I’m left holding my phone in trembling hands. I drop it into my purse before Nick returns to the car.
He’s grinning as he climbs in and hands me the room keys in their little paper sleeve. “Honeymoon suite was all they had left. Hope you don’t mind.”
“No.” I force a smile that feels tight on my lips. “I don’t mind.”
He cocks his head at me, frowning. “Something wrong?”
“No.” I try for another smile, a stronger one that draws on years of practice in pretending nothing is wrong when, in reality, my life is coming apart at the seams. “Everything’s fine.”
* * * * *