“Hi, Oscar,” the woman said as he came over to say a quick hello to the newcomer. He thumped his tail against the woman’s leg a couple of times before loping off to chase a squirrel in his lazy way. The woman smiled after Oscar as she said, “I didn’t realize anyone was here with Drake. My grandmother hasn’t seen him in the store for a couple of days, so she thought it might be nice if I dropped by with this pie before they’re all gone. You must be his sister.”
If only Rosa could get away with saying she was Drake’s sister, she thought, as the scene played out in what felt like slow motion. But there was no way she could hide her face, no way she could run from the scene barefoot, wearing only Drake’s shirt and nothing else. She could hear the clock ticking down on the horrible situation with each and every hard thud of her heart.
Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
Seven.
Si—
“Oh my God.” The woman’s eyes went wide with shock. “You’re Rosalind Bouchard. What are you doing here?”
Rosa needed to say something. Anything to try to fix this. But both her brain and her tongue were so tied up with blooming panic that she couldn’t figure out how to get a proper thought through either one.
For the past few days, Drake’s property had felt like a perfect, private cocoon. But she’d known it couldn’t last forever, hadn’t she? Stupid Rosa, to think that she could be the one to decide when it was time to go. Even stupider to believe that her tentative, fragile happiness could withstand being faced with her past as Rosalind Bouchard, reality TV’s bad girl.
“I thought you were in Miami with your family, dealing with the nude photo scandal. Especially now that all those new pictures have come out.”
“New pictures?” Rosa finally came unstuck, if only to echo the two horrible words. Bile rose in her throat at the thought of new pictures circulating.
All those new pictures.
Her knees wanted to buckle. She wanted to sink right into the leaves and let them bury her.
Only, as she watched the stranger take in her knotted sex-hair, kiss-bruised lips, and Drake’s half-buttoned flannel shirt, Rosa knew she didn’t have the luxury of falling apart. Not yet.
Not when there was so much damage control to be done first on Drake’s behalf.
No doubt, if Rosa left things like this, the stranger would get on her phone and social media apps the second she turned around and walked away. And if she came inside and saw the paintings—especially now that there were several of Rosa in the nude—she wouldn’t have a chance of persuading the woman that she and Drake weren’t an item. But if there was even the barest chance that she could pull this off, she had to try.
“I’m just a family friend,” she said, trying with all her might to sound normal, though it wasn’t easy with blood rushing like a flash flood into her head. “I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d drop in to say hello.” Her legs felt as shaky as a newborn deer’s as she walked toward the stranger. “It’s really nice of you to bring pie. So Mona is your grandmother?”
“You know her name?”
Rosa hoped her smile didn’t look as pasted on as it felt. “She’s a lovely woman.” Rosa took the pie from the woman’s hands, somehow managing to keep her own from shaking. “Really sweet. And wow, this smells great.”
Keep talking, she silently coached herself. Use what you’ve learned from all the interviews you’ve done over the years to turn things where you need them to go.
“I’m sure Drake is going to love eating this pie when he gets back. I’ll be sure to leave a note for him so that he knows it’s from you.”
“Where did he go?”
Rosa shook her head as if she had no idea. “Probably out painting some incredible vista.”
She crossed a million mental fingers that he wouldn’t wake up and walk outside right then. Rosa hated lying, but she would do whatever it took to keep him as safe as he’d made her feel.
“He’s always been like a brother to me.” The lies tasted like sawdust on Rosa’s tongue, especially when she had to deliver them in such an easy tone. No man had ever been less like a brother. “Thanks again for bringing the pie. Oscar, time to head back in now to get your breakfast!”
Thank God, he trotted right up to her as if he’d merely been biding his time playing around with squirrels while he waited for her to call him.
“I’m sorry,” Rosa said to the woman, giving her another smile, “I didn’t get your name.”
“I’m Trinity. And I still can’t believe you’re standing right here in front of me when I’ve been watching you on TV for years.”
So far, Rosa had managed not to answer any questions. Knowing her luck wouldn’t hold out forever, she headed for the quick close. “It’s been really great to meet you, Trinity. And thanks for watching the show.” She put her hand on Oscar’s ruff and, brilliant dog that he was, he started to lead her back to the house. “Have a great day.” She gave the woman one last smile over her shoulder, then opened the cabin door and walked inside.
Closing it behind her, she leaned against it and looked around the room at Drake’s easels and paintings. He was so brilliant. So sweet. So good.
“Rosa, there you are.”