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Scarlett looked at me for a long moment before speaking. “It seems like you’re more concerned about Grayson than you are about yourself.”
I shrugged. “Well, yeah. I love him more than anything.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I froze, staring at Scarlett as the realization that I was in love with Grayson sank in. It felt…scary, amazing, exhilarating, overwhelming and really, really fucking lovely. But then, the fact that I couldn’t tell him, because all this horrendous bullshit was going on, made me want to cry.
Scarlett smiled. “There it is. Okay, I know it all seems hopeless. But I refuse to accept that the girl who has almost single-handedly flushed out a guy the FBI has been chasing for years can’t find a way through this. You say you love Grayson?”
I nodded.
“Then fight for him. This is the endgame now. Be the fucking queen you are and win this.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Figure it out.”
CHAPTER 48
Grayson
The lilting sounds of Tchaikovsky’sWaltz of the Flowersmingled with the sound of sizzling meat as I threw the steak into the pan.
As I had already done a dozen times in the last ten minutes, I reached over and pressed the play button on my phone. And as it had done a dozen times already, my breath hitched at the sound of Stef’s voice. I picked up the knife and started finely chopping the salad vegetables.
“Nah, just good acting. There’s nothing between us.”
Then Ethan;“So you don’t feel anything for him?”
“That’s right. I feel nothing for him…I just wanted a recording contract and, you know, I’ll do anything to make my dreams come true.”
Then Ethan laughing;“Well, it worked.”
Stef laughed.“Did it ever!”
The recording ended. I played it over again. It was the laugh that got me. Every fucking time. I put the knife down and bowed myhead, feeling my heart twist so hard I felt I could go into cardiac arrest.
Knowing that I was torturing myself, I pressed play again.
And again.
Then the phone rang. It was Wolfe. I let it go through to voice mail. He didn’t leave a message, then seconds later, he rang again.
Huffing out a breath of annoyance, I answered it. “What?”
“You mind telling me why Boudica has a one night only special performance booked at Lacey’s tonight?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I just drove by there. Big sign out the front, brother.”
“What time?”
“Starts at nine.”
I glanced at the clock. It was nearly eight. There was no way I could get to Esperance before the show started. I let out a string of swear words. “Will you go there?”
“Of course. Get down here as quick as you can.”
I ended the call and stared at my phone for a long moment, my mind racing. Why was Stef playing a one night only show at Lacey’s? And why had no one told me about it?