"--talk to Neil?"
"Olivia." His tone was curt now. Losing patience. Damn it, why didn't I understand?
I did understand. I understood that he could pretend nothing had changed. He could kiss me as if nothing had changed. He could say all the right things to convince me nothing had changed.
But act as if nothing had changed? No.
I wanted him to say he didn't give a rat's ass what anyone thought. Didn't care if it put his political future in jeopardy. He loved me and he was marrying me now or a month from now, as we planned.
That's what I would do if the situation were reversed. To hell with the road of caution. I'd go my own way.
But he just stood there, frustrated and impatient. Wanting me to meekly accept his reasoning, tell him I understood. I'd go away and hide until this was over. Then I'd wait until he was ready to marry me.
Like hell.
"You want to save your political future? Here, let me help you." I wrenched off the engagement ring and whipped it at him. "You're free. Go find a sweet little wife and get yourself elected."
"Olivia..."
I stalked to the door.
"Olivia!"
The cool night air slapped me so hard my eyes stung. I jogged until I reached the end of the garden walk.
The front door creaked open behind me.
"Olivia?"
I raced across the lawn. James's sigh wafted across the quiet yard. Then he padded back into the house, leaving the door open. Getting his shoes. Because the grass might be wet and running after me in stocking feet was foolish.
I wouldn't have stopped for shoes.
I circled back into the shadows beside the house and waited there, hidden. He came out, looked around, then jogged in the direction I'd been heading.
When he disappeared through the hedge, I exhaled and glanced toward the road. My cab was long gone. If I went out there, I'd have to face the reporters.
I really wasn't in the mood to face more reporters.
But I wasn't sticking around here, either.
As I shifted my purse, my keys jangled inside. Keys to my house. Keys to my gym locker. And keys to...
I glanced toward James's bedroom window and remembered lying in his bed a month ago, as he handed me a garage key and a car fob. "Yes, I know you love mixing it up with your dad's old cars, but I'd really like to see you in something with air bags, Liv. Take my car out a few times. If you like it, I'll know what to get you for a wedding present."
I'd never actually driven his car. It was a Volvo. Very nice but really not my style. Now, though...
I pulled out the keys and sneaked around the house to the garage.
Chapter Nine
I walked into O'Hare airport, stopped in front of the departures board, and thought, What the hell am I doing?
Honestly, I had no idea. I'd driven here on automatic and now, looking at the board, I think if I hadn't been too late to catch a flight, I might have proceeded on autodrive and boarded one. Done exactly what James wanted. Fled Chicago.
What good would it do to lie low for a few weeks? I couldn't escape this. I shouldn't try. Now that I was alone, my adrenaline had plummeted, and all I could do was stare at the board and think, Now what?
I had no idea.