“I’ve got her,” I told her coordinator. His jaw dropped and his gaze flitted frantically between us, but his protests came too late. I was already leading her around the corner, where a hundred photographers were waiting to snap our photo.
“Stop it,” she hissed from the side of her mouth. She tried to pull back gently so that no one could tell, but I kept my arm wrapped around her lower back and dipped down to whisper in her ear.
“I won’t let you avoid me all night.”
“Let me walk the carpet alone and I promise I won’t.”
I could feel her shaking beside me, and when she glanced up, I realized it wasn’t with nerves, it was with rage. She was seething.
“Fine,” I said, loosening my grip on her waist. “Wait for me inside.”
She promised she would and then her media consultant whisked her away to walk the red carpet in front of me. They had me wait so it wouldn’t look as though we’d arrived together. I stood there out of sight, watching as they shouted for her attention. She smiled so beautifully even I couldn’t tell if it was real or fake.
“Andie! Andie!” they shouted.
“Look here!”
Her media consultant pushed and prodded her along and when it was finally my turn to take the carpet, I waved and smiled for a photo or two, but not nearly as many as Andie had. These cameramen weren’t my mates. They’d shout and beg for a photo one minute and then sully my name in the gossip pages the next.
My consultant flitted around me, trying to get me to stop and pose in specific spots. “If you could stand here for one—”
I shook my head. “That’s enough.”
I skipped the dozen or so reporters set up at the end of the red carpet, posed with microphones and cameras. They shouted questions as I passed, but there was nothing I wanted to answer. Was I still betrothed to Caroline Montague? On paper. Did I plan on breaking my world records? Isn’t that the bloody point? Was I enjoying my time in Rio? What was there not to like?
I brushed by them and walked inside the restaurant, anxious to get to Andie. I’d lost her at some point on the red carpet, and she wasn’t waiting for me in the foyer like she’d promised. I swept my gaze around the room, taking in the usual suspects. There was an athlete present from every country, mingling and chatting with the few reporters allowed entry into the event.
A waiter swept past me, holding out a tray of appetizers.
“Chicken skewer, sir?”
I shook my head and pushed past him, stepping deeper into the restaurant. I’d assumed it wouldn’t be difficult to find a blonde woman wearing a blue dress, but I circled the room twice without any luck. Then I spotted her in a group of other female athletes. She was laughing at something one of them had said, holding a glass of champagne in one hand and a folded napkin in the other. She looked carefree and happy, not at all concerned with the fact that she’d stood me up at the door. What had changed all of a sudden? Her texts earlier hadn’t explained anything.
I made my way toward the corner of the room where she stood with her group. I had the advantage as she listened attentively to one of the women, an athlete I recognized from the Japanese swim team. She was in the middle of a story, but I didn’t care.
“Andie, could I speak with you for a moment?” I asked, plastering on the innocent smile I’d learned as a child. It was the smile I wore around the media, the smile my mother had forced from time to time.
“I’m actually busy at the moment,” Andie said, smiling politely and then turning her attention back to the woman I’d interrupted. She didn’t seem surprised that I’d found her, which said more of my apparent obsession than it did of her lack of remorse.
“Oh, no it’s okay if you need to go talk,” the woman said. The rest of the group nodded, clearly affected by my smile more than Andie.
“I loathe cliffhangers. Please finish your story,” Andie said, waving her hand in the air so the woman would continue.
“It’ll only be a moment,” I promised, though it wasn’t the truth. Not that it mattered; we’d been lying to one another all day.
I turned away before she could protest. I heard a gentle sigh, then the sound of her heels hitting the floor behind me; she was following.
The restaurant was smaller than I’d assumed. There was the main dining hall and a foyer up front. That was where most of the media personnel were stationed, so I steered clear and turned down a side hallway instead. The lights were low and each door we passed was labeled to keep us out. We passed a broom closet and a door marked ‘Staff Only’.
I pulled the door open for one of the private restrooms. It wasn’t the setting I’d hoped for, but when I turned to see Andie follow me inside, I knew it wouldn’t matter.
She was long legs in a tight dress, bright eyes that sparked something inside me. I knew she’d been lying earlier. She was scared and nervous. The easiest solution was to push me away, but I wasn’t ready to let that happen.
It was an exercise in restraint to keep my hands to myself as she walked over to the vanity and turned to face me. I let the door slam behind us and reached out to lock it. The space was tiny, cramped, and dark.
“I asked you to stay away.”