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By the time Vicky was in the back of the town car, riding to Tavern on the Green, she had made up her mind what she was going to do. It was simple really. In business, it made no sense to keep investing in a deal that wasn’t returning a profit. This was no different.
The cost of her fake relationship with Ryder was exceeding the rewards, and it was time to cut her losses. She would apologize profusely to Cheryl for the photo and her behavior at the engagement party, let her know it wasn’t working out with Ryder, and then go see Ryder and put an end to their deal.
He’d be relieved to be released from further obligation. When she thought about it, she wasn’t even really sure why he’d gone along with the charade as long as he had.
It was sweet of him really. Even if it had all gone to hell in the end. She shook her head, trying to clear it. This had been a bad idea from the start, plain and simple. Now she was going to fix it.
She wasn’t sure there was a way to separate herself from Ryder without people thinking he had just been, well, too Ryder for her. Not after those photos. Even Cheryl and Warren would likely think the same.
She doubted Ryder would care, though. He seemed to relish his bad-boy reputation. Still, the idea of throwing him under the bus made her feel a little queasy. He might be a “bad boy,” but he was a good guy. She’d known that all along, and the last few weeks had only solidified it for her.
But it was like his basic decency was his little secret. He was all too happy to let people think whatever bad things they thought about him. He cultivated that image even.
Not with her, though.
Somehow, he had let her see the real him. Why was she special? Why did he trust her? And why did she feel like she was betraying him?
She closed her eyes. No. She wasn’t betraying him at all. He hadn’t even wanted to do this whole fake relationship thing. He’d be ecstatic to be done with it. To be free to skip out on all the wedding and family events if he wanted to. Not to have to rein himself in for her sake.
The car arrived outside the restaurant, and she took a deep breath. Here she went.
* * *
“Victoria!” Cheryl positively beamed as she stood and waved from the table. This was not the reception Vicky had been expecting. So much so that she turned and looked around, making sure the exuberant greeting was directed at her, even though it obviously was.
Okay, then. She’d really thought the older woman would have been upset, if not about her and Ryder’s less-than-seemly behavior, then about the media fiasco that had ensued. She’d have been too kind to show it directly, of course. Especially to her, given everything they’d been through together, from losing her mom to the years she’d spent with Noah. Cheryl was basically a surrogate mother to her.
But the woman was practically giddy. There was no way her bubbly attitude was hiding an undercurrent of displeasure or even disappointment.
Which was odd.
She arrived at the table, and Cheryl pulled her close, planting a kiss on each cheek before pulling back to look at her.
“Vicky, darling, did you sleep well? You look . . . tense.”
Maybe the strain of everything was getting to Cheryl. Vicky closed her eyes and made herself smile. “I’m fine, thank you. And yourself?”
“Oh, fantastic!”
No point in questioning it, Vicky finally decided. The other woman’s good mood would just make everything she had to say easier. Wouldn’t it?
First things first.
“Cheryl,” Vicky began as they took their seats. She felt her face flame. “I am so sorry about the—” Obscene photos of me and your son? Incredibly poor judgment I demonstrated? My forever marring what should have been a treasured family memory? She cleared her throat. “Press coverage.”
More than anything, she didn’t want to damage her relationship with the older woman.
Cheryl waved a dismissive hand, brushing the idea aside. “Don’t worry about it, dear.”
“That’s . . . more than nice of you. But we both know it was—”
“Young love.”
Vicky choked on literal air.
She coughed repeatedly. Cheryl knit her brows in concern, waving a waiter over to fill Vicky’s water glass. She handed it to her, and Vicky took a sip, her hacking eventually subsiding. She was vaguely aware that people around them were turning to look, but she was more concerned with the woman in front of her who was watching her with a knowing smile.
“I remember what it was like to be so smitten with someone you couldn’t keep your hands off them.”
