Page 34 of Wilde About You

I waited a second. "That's it?"

"That's it. You wanted Ronan advice, and you got it. I'm kind of new at being on this side of the conversation, and I'm feeling pretty damn good about it. But that's my advice, clean and simple."

"If only it were clean and simple."

"From my point of view, it is. You'll go out there next season and win every damn contest. The sponsors will come crawling back, and this time you'll make them beg. I know you better than anyone on the planet, and this setback is only going to make you train and race harder. Especially so you can throw snow in Ace's face and then watch that same face as your hot girlfriend Sadie runs out of the crowd to give you a victory kiss."

"Like your way of thinking. You know what? Think I'll take your advice. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get going. I need to make a plan."

"Where ya going?"

"You already forgot your own advice. I'm going after the girl. Just need to figure out how to get past her parents' security system."

Ronan chuckled. "Uh hello, did you forget you're a Wilde?"

"I did not. See you later."

"Good luck."

I scrolled through my phone. A few years back, I'd taken a bunch of pictures of the Rivers' home and grounds. I wanted to show Ronan how awesome the place was, but now the photos were going to help me make a plan to reach Sadie.

seventeen

. . .

Sadie

The construction crew was working round the clock. It was only seven on Monday morning, and the same trucks were parked in front of the house. I leaned forward to see straight down from my window. Three guys in white painter pants and hats were carrying a very long ladder through the entryway. Mom had mentioned something about an anniversary or birthday or some kind of party for their friends happening next month. She wanted the house finished by then. She put herself into these stressful situations by constantly having work done on the house. I was sure she thrived on that kind of thrill because, otherwise, her life and her social circle were boring as hell.

I purposely stayed in my room until I was sure Mom and Dad had finished breakfast. They never veered from their routines. Dad would finish his two eggs, hard-boiled, and wheat toast basted with just a touch of butter and honey, then he'd go to his study, shut the door and start making agitated phone calls. Mom would do the same, only she liked her eggs scrambled and a scone on the side, then she'd go into her personal parlor and answer emails and make phone calls. Hers were usually less agitated than Dad's because hers tended to focus on charity balls, society luncheons and the latest gossip.

I put on my shoes and grabbed my pack. I zipped downstairs. Yep, routines still in place. I could hear Dad snarling at someone on the phone, and Mom gasping about some incident at a garden party. Some things never changed. I slipped through the kitchen. Ingrid was talking to a tall man who I assumed was the new chef.

"There you are," Ingird said. "I thought you'd never come out of your room. I made you an egg sandwich." She walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a foil-wrapped parcel. She walked back to the island and picked up a to-go cup. "And coffee with a splash of milk." She winked. "The way you like it." I could offer my mom a diamond necklace if she could tell me the way I like my coffee, but she wouldn't be able to do it. And it wasn't as if it was a complicated coffee order.

I kissed Ingrid on the cheek. "Still always the best. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Where are you going? Your father will surely ask."

"Tell him I went back to my place to get that photo he ordered me to leave on his desk. See ya soon."

I hurried through the security gate. I didn't need to be stopped by a nosy parent or one of the creepy security guards they had patrolling the grounds. My apartment was a twenty-minute bus ride from the house, and the bus stop was two miles straight down the hill. I knew all this because as a teen, my dad rarely let me borrow a car. He told me my grades were too low for him to trust me as a responsible driver. I got used to the bus rides and didn't mind them at all.

I managed to finish the delicious breakfast Ingrid made me during the walk down the hill. The sun was pouring down from a hazy sky. It seemed it was always hot now. I longed for the cool slopes of the Alps or the icy plains of Iceland. Constant sunshine and heat made me weary. Maybe it was time to find an overseas job again. I certainly didn't have anything to hold me here. I'd been in the house for just over twelve hours and spoken to my parents only briefly and mostly tersely. They didn't care that I was home. I'd met a man who I thought might make me want to stay stateside, but Ace took a cleaver to that possibility. Now Colin was just another memory, one that admittedly made my heart ache with regret. Not regret that I'd slept with him. Regret that I was never going to get to know him better.

It was early on a Monday, and people were heading to work. The bus was packed. I held onto the railing and bus surfed, as my friends and I used to call it, all the way to the street where I lived. My stomach clenched as I spotted the front of my apartment building. I hadn't been back since the break-in. I looked around but didn't see anyone suspicious or sketchy or thuggish.

I hurried through the grounds. My heart beat louder with each step. I searched around enough that I managed to trip on sidewalk cracks twice. I saved myself from falling both times. I raced up the stairs and was close enough to a panic attack by the time I reached the door that I stepped off into an alcove that led to two other apartments to catch my breath. My hands and face tingled as I closed my eyes and slowed my erratic heartrate.

"Sadie?" a voice said. I startled so badly I made Mrs. Grayson startle, too. Her hand flew to her chest. "My word. Are you all right, dear? You look as if you've seen a ghost. We haven't seen you lately, so I figured you were on one of your world travels."

I forced a smile. The adrenaline and tingling had started to subside. "Just out of town for a couple days. I felt a little dizzy from the heat, but I'm fine. Thanks for checking. Have a nice day."

Mrs. Grayson, a widow who lived with her grown, single son, didn't look convinced. "I could get you a glass of water from my apartment."

"No, really, I'm totally fine now. Thanks for the offer." I sidled past her, gave her a kind pat on the shoulder, then hurried to my door. My hand shook as I unlocked it. I sucked in a breath as I stepped inside. I had no idea what I'd expected. It wasn't as if a cleaning crew had been hired to go in and straighten up the mess. At least it didn't look any worse, which meant they hadn't returned.

I stepped over the clutter of books and my fern plant that had been destroyed in the ransacking and walked to my open closet. Everything had been taken down from the shelves, including a box of photos and negatives. They were strewn on the floor. I thumbed through them and found one that was a close-up of several adorable puffins sitting on a cliff in Iceland. I'd fallen in love with the clown-like birds and then found out they served them as a delicacy in local restaurants. I lamented over that dark reality for days. I picked out the best puffin photo and the strip of negatives that went with it and stuck it in my pack.