Page 35

I rolled my eyes. I needed to get out of here. Desperately. The whole thing was beginning to suffocate me. The situation, the people, Rick. This was the biggest disaster ever, and I couldn’t help looking for an exit. Maybe I’d go to the bathroom and sneak out from there.

When the phone in my clutch began to ring, I almost sighed in relief.

“So sorry,” I said, giving Rick’s parents a bitter smile. “I need to take this.”

Turning away from them, I set my wine glass on the tray of a passing server, but before I could get far, I overheard a hissed conversation between Rick and his parents. Some of it was obscured by the noise of the ballroom, but I caught most of it.

“...the one I want , Dad,” Rick said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Madison chuckled. “The girl is obviously… can’t hold a candle to… not worth your time.”

“...mother is right, son… This woman your mother mentioned… much better match.”

Picking up my pace, I hurried away, not wanting to hear anymore.

I hated it, but tears threatened to ruin my mascara.

The way they’d basically ignored and belittled me stung, regardless of the situation.

Rick’s family came from money, all of it from his mother’s side, more or less.

Their family was important, yes. But they didn’t need to be assholes.

And who was this chick they were so gung ho on Rick taking out?

Christ, they’d tried to set him up with her right in front of me.

We weren’t together anymore, but his parents didn’t know that. How blatant could they be? It was disgusting.

Stepping into the hotel lobby, I looked at my phone. The number wasn’t familiar. At that point, I didn’t give a shit who it was. I’d have welcomed a conversation with a telemarketer, to be honest. Anything to get my mind off the night.

“Hello? This is Cameron.”

“Is that music I hear?” Nate’s deep voice rumbled in response.

“Nate?” Warmth flooded my chest, creeping toward my stomach and parts farther south. I pictured myself grinding on his thigh and had to physically shake my head to clear it. “How did you get my number?”

“Is that jazz?” he asked derisively.

“Are you gonna tell me what this is about or not?” I hissed. “I’m doing something important.”

“What? Listening to shit music?”

“Will you just tell me why you’re calling and how you got my number?”

“Got it from Ollie. It was on file at the police office. Your test results came back.”

I frowned, looking back into the ballroom. Through the crowd, I spotted Rick, still arguing quietly with his parents. My anger at him and his parents was only slightly overshadowed by the confusion I felt at Nate’s statement.

“How do you have my test results? Shouldn’t a doctor have received them? Or at the very least Ollie? This stuff should be sealed. There are laws about it, you know.”

“I’ve got my ways,” he said cryptically.

“Okay, fine, then,” I snapped. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll just get the results from the hospital directly.” I was over it and in a bad mood. I didn’t have time for Nate’s games.

“The hospital won’t have a record of this test, Cameron,” he said, his voice becoming serious, leaving behind the flirtatious cockiness I’d come to expect from him.

Freezing in place, I gripped the phone tighter, pressing it hard to my ear. “What the fuck does that mean? How would the hospital not have results, but you do?”

“I’ll explain everything in person. We’ll need to meet up. Where can I find you?”

The last thing I needed was Nate here at the gala. I could picture it now—leather jacket, heavy boots thudding on the marble floors. Hell, he’d probably wear sunglasses inside, too. Although, deep down, I was desperate for someone to rescue me from this catastrophe.

“Not here,” I said, the words coming out like a gasp.

Nothing about this made sense. I thought back on how weird Nate and Ollie had acted at the hospital. Even the nurse had been acting strange. Now Nate was saying he—and only he—had the test results? Had he and Ollie somehow subverted the hospital?

My reporter’s mind began to work, and everything else was pushed into the background.

“Then where?” Nate asked. “This is kind of important. It can’t wait.”

Back in the ballroom, I watched as Rick moved through the crowd, his eyes scanning everyone, looking for me. Behind him, I saw his parents. His father caught sight of me and made a slight yet noticeable grimace of distaste, then turned to join a conversation.

Gritting my teeth, I made up my mind. No reason to stay here and possibly have Mr. and Mrs. Masters keep looking at me like dogshit on the bottom of their shoe. Or have Rick pawing at me like some puppy begging me to take him back. Something strange was happening, and I needed to figure it out.

“Where are you?” I asked. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Right now? I’m at the gym, but?—”

“Text me the address. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Hanging up before he could say anything else, I hurried toward the hotel doors.

As I left all the rich assholes behind, a weight lifted off my shoulders.

Not bothering to look back and see if Rick had spotted me, I pushed through the doors out into the night air. A valet stood nearby and approached me.

“Do you have a tag for your keys, ma’am? Do you need a car brought up?”

“No car,” I said, shaking my head. “Can you hail me a cab?”

“Of course.” The young man hurried over to a line of taxis waiting for work.

My phone buzzed with a text from Nate. In a few moments, a taxi pulled up to the curb. I shoved a ten into the valet’s hand and hopped inside, closing the door behind me.

“Where to, miss?” the driver asked.

Glancing at my phone screen, I read the name to him. “UFG Boxing and Fighting Club? Do you know that place?”

“Sure do. With traffic, we’ll be there in twenty, maybe thirty minutes. Sound good to you?”

“Yeah. There’s an extra ten percent tip in it if you can beat that time.”

“I’ll do my best.”

As the car pulled away from the hotel, I spared one glance back and caught a glimpse of Rick. He was standing out on the front steps, looking back and forth, scanning the surrounding area for me.

A second later, the taxi turned onto a side street, and he was gone.