Grayson’s attention returned to the brief article. It was pretty much what he’d expected. Innuendos and assumptions. But what he didn’t expect was a quote from Annabelle.
“We are together.”
She’d said that? To the media? Why would she tell them such a thing? It wasn’t true. He’d made sure to keep his distance since their one and only kiss—no matter how tempting he found her. What was she up to?
“Grayson, there you are.” Annabelle’s voice called out behind him. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
He choked down his outrage at the headline. He could only be thankful that the Mirraccino media hadn’t dug into his past, but something told him they would soon. “Apparently you didn’t look hard enough.” He closed the paper along the fold. “I’ve been right here.”
“I’m sorry things took so long this morning. There was more to do than I anticipated.”
He nodded. His mind was still on the newspaper article. “Really? It seemed like you took care of everything last night.”
She sent him a strange look as though she didn’t know what he was talking about. “I, ah, had some last-minute details to take care of for the heritage festival.”
His gaze lowered to the photo of them. It had to have been digitally altered because there was no way he’d looked at Annabelle like...like that—like they were lovers.
“Grayson, what’s the matter?”
He wondered if she’d seen the photo yet. “Why do you think something is the matter?”
“Because you’ve barely said a word to me. And you keep scowling. Now what’s the matter? Have I done something to upset you?”
“You might say that.” He held out the newspaper. “When were you going to tell me about this?”
She retrieved the newspaper from his hand. Her mouth gaped open. He wanted to believe that this was as much a surprise to her as it was to him, but he couldn’t let go of the fact that there was a quote from her.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” His voice came out more agitated than he’d intended.
“You think I did this?” Her free hand smacked off the paper.
“It has you quoted in the article.”
“I’m surprised you took time to read it.” She tossed the paper back on the table. “For the record, I didn’t imply that you and I are lovers. They did that all on their own. I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal about this. Surely someone of your position must be used to the media by now.”
That was the problem. He was all too used to them. He knew how much their words could cut and he thought at last the rumors had died down. But there hadn’t been a word about the accident in the paper. Maybe he was being oversensitive.
He shouldn’t have been so quick to think the worst of her. Is that what he’d let happen to him? Had his bad experience jaded him?
“I thought you and I were friends, but obviously I was wrong.” Annabelle’s voice drew him from his thoughts. “I won’t make that mistake again.” She turned to walk away.
He couldn’t let her walk away. Not like this.
Grayson cleared his throat. “Annabelle, wait.”
She hesitated but didn’t turn around. Her shoulders were rigid. And if he could see her eyes, he’d bet they were glowing with anger.
“I’m sorry,” he said. Those words didn’t often cross his lips. But he truly owed her an apology. He couldn’t take out what had happened to him in the past on her. “I shouldn’t have accused you of anything. I know the media can turn the most innocent of comments around.”
She turned to face him. Her expression was stony cold. “I appreciate the apology.”
He couldn’t tell if she truly meant that or not. He’d really messed things up. He raked his fingers through his hair.
“I’ve got things to do.” Annabelle walked away.
He picked up the paper again and held it before him. He studied the photo of them. Is that really how she looked at him? There was a vulnerability in her gaze as her body leaned toward him. This knowledge started a strange sensation swirling in his chest.
Then his gaze moved to the image of himself. He looked like he was ready to sweep her into his arms and have his way with her. Was that really what he’d felt in that moment? He recalled the desire to taste her sweet kisses once more, but he’d thought he’d covered it up. Obviously, he’d failed. Miserably.