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“—like I’d been thrown to the sharks by someone I trusted?” She stepped toward him. “I seemed unprepared? Maybe because the guy who was supposed to have my back abandoned me? You left, Chris, and I didn’t need you swooping in to save me, especially after you’re the one who put me in that position. I was doing what you wanted—taking back what’s mine—and I’m sorry if I was making a mess of it. Maybe that’s just what I do. Make a mess of things.”
“You—”
“But mess or not, I was doing it, and you stopped me without checking to see whether that was what I wanted.”
At a throat clearing, they both spun to see a staff member hovering there, a copy of Edge clutched in his hands.
“I was working the line and didn’t get a chance to ask you to sign this.” The employee’s gaze darted between them. “Is this a bad time?”
Daphne mustered everything in herself to find a gracious smile and said, “Not at all. Zane was just heading back to his table to sign stock. Come with me. I think I have a bookmark or two left.”
She led the young man away and didn’t look back.
CHRIS
All the books were signed. Finally he could talk to Daphne. She’d slipped off during the stock signing. Not that he blamed her. She’d been… kinda furious. And he didn’t blame her for that, either.
Is everything okay?
Had he actually said that? Of course everything wasn’t okay. He just hadn’t known what else to say, and he’d been panicking. He’d planned how he’d explain and apologize after the signing, and he hadn’t been ready.
He capped his marker, turned to Sakura, and found himself facing the publicist’s retreating back. He said a quick thank-you to the remaining staff and strode after Sakura.
“So,” he said. “Another signing done.”
She turned and fixed him with a look that would freeze the sun.
“Er, um,” he said, “about earlier…”
“Save it.” She continued walking away and called back, “Save your taxi receipt, too. The publisher will comp it.”
He hurried to catch up. “I took a rideshare, but it’s fine. No need to reimburse me for my mistake.”
“How noble. However, I meant the receipt for your taxi back to wherever you’re staying tonight.”
“Is Daphne around? We were talking and… I really need to speak to her.”
“She left.” Sakura veered into the staff area, which was thankfully empty.
Chris hurried after her. “She went back to the hotel?”
“No, she went to catch her train.”
“Train?”
Sakura scooped up her purse. “A long string of metal cars, pulled by an engine. Otherwise known as a choo-choo.”
“I mean why is Daphne…” The answer hit, and he sucked in breath. “Shit! We’re not staying at the hotel tonight. We’re catching the last train to Chicago.”
And Daphne had gone on ahead, not wanting to share a car with him after his epic screwup. He took a quick breath to calm his rising panic. She hadn’t abandoned him—apparently, that was his thing. She would be at the station, and they could talk on the train. He could explain everything.
He should have explained here, in the stacks, when she confronted him. She’d been right, with all of it, and while there were things he could explain—like that he’d planned to let her decide who’d take the stage—it would have sounded like excuses. She had a right to be furious with him and say her piece. Now he needed to explain and apologize. Mostly apologize.
He checked his watch. “What time does the train leave?”
“Ten thirty.”
He blinked. It was already almost ten.
