67.2
Isabel
“You could go back, you know,” Summer says, sipping her coffee. We’re sitting at a café in downtown Budapest, people-watching. Summer's boyfriend is sightseeing with a group of people from the hostel, probably shooed away by Summer so that she could interrogate me about Kev.
“Seriously, I’m totally fine,” I say. It’s an obvious lie, yet I feel the need to say it. I feel the need to convince myself of that fact. “I’m having fun.”
“You’re having a terrible time,” she says. “You should go back to him.”
“After I flipped out and went running away?” I ask. “I can't. Besides, it’s Kev. He’s the playboy prince. There are plenty of women who will be throwing themselves at him. I’m sure he’s moved on already.”
“You’re so full of shit, Isabel,” she says.
“I’m not! You’re the one who knows all about his exploits in the tabloids.”
“Those are the tabloids,” she says. “We both know that stuff is only partly true.”
I cock my head to the side and raise my eyebrows. “Please,” I say. “The stuff I read about Kev was mostly true.”
“But that was before you met.”
“And it’ll be true again, after me.”
“You don’t believe that,” she says.
“I don't know what to believe," I say. "I'm sure he hates me now."
“Go to him,” she says. “Tell him that you were stupid and foolish and impulsive and you ran because that’s what you do.”
“What?” I squeal. “Because that’s what I do? I don’t do that.”
“Isabel.” Summer sips her coffee and gives me a knowing look. “I love you. But you know I’m right.”
I roll my eyes at her and exhale heavily. “Okay, I run. I ran. I fucked up.”
As I speak the words, my heart sinks, because I know they’re true. I fucked up. I was falling for Kev and I got scared and ran. And now it’s messed up.
“Do you love him?”
“My mother is marrying his father, Summer,” I say, shaking my head. “The whole world is watching us."
"That's not what I asked."
I still avoid answering her question. "I was sneaking around with him, and playing with fire, and it’s my own damn fault I got burned. It would have happened, whether he told his father we got married or not.”
“He told his father?” Summer asks.
“Yes!” I say, my voice a little bit too loud. I look around at the other café patrons, before leaning in closer to her. “He told his father that we were married in Vegas.”
“So he loves you, too, Isabel,” she says.
“What are you talking about?” I ask. “He outed us.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Why do you think he told his father he married you?”
“Because he –“ I’m about to say, because he was standing up to his father. Except I know that’s not all of it.
Because he loves me.
Shit.
“Exactly,” Summer says, even though I haven’t said the words out loud. “And I know you love him. It’s written all over you. It’s been in every word you’ve said about him on the phone since you got there, Isabel.”
“Oh God,” I say, my heart sinking. “I’ve been a total idiot.”
“A little bit,” Summer says, smiling.
“Crap,” I blurt out. “What the hell do I do now? Call him? ‘Hey, I know that I ran away from Venici and that our parents are going to basically disown us for this, but I just wanted to tell you that I love you?’”
“I probably wouldn’t put it exactly like that.”
“Shit. I love him. I’m in love with him.”
Summer nods. “So what are you going to do about it?”
Kev
“This is fucking ridiculous,” Alex yells from the backseat of the SUV. "Dad is going to kill us when he finds out we all took off – and that you guys are with us."
"He won't kill us," Nathaniel says. "I'm sure he has people to do that for him."
"You're always looking at the bright side of things, Nathaniel," Alex says. "It's probably why you and my brother get along so well."
"At least you'll be dead and not fired," Nathaniel says.
"No one is getting murdered or fired." My voice has a hard edge I can't quite keep out of it. I'm more nervous than I should be right now at the prospect of tracking down Isabel. I should be excited. Isn't that how you're supposed to feel when you tell a woman you love her?
Instead, I feel edgy and irritable.
Part of me is afraid she's going to tell me to go to hell.
Or worse, she'll tell me she doesn't feel the same, and that it's been about the sex all along.
"How far is Budapest exactly?" Alex asks. "We should have just taken the helicopter."
"It's one thing to sneak out of a tea party in the helicopter, but another to try to be stealthy about flying to Budapest," I say. "It's only a couple of hours anyway."
"We couldn't get the exact location from the head of security," Max says. "Budapest was as far as they could narrow it down."
"Why don't you call Summer?" Alex asks. "Or are you going for a big dramatic entrance?”
"The girl who bursts into our father's room and announces she's sleeping with her bodyguard is giving me shit about drama?" I ask.
"I was trying to take some of the heat off of you," she protests. “Obviously, it was a miscalculated move on my part.”
“No shit,” Max says.
“If dad didn’t kill Max after you told him you were sleeping with Max, then all of us will be just fine,” I note.
“Thanks,” Max says. “I think.”
“I’m not going to call Summer,” I tell Alex. “Not until we’re actually in Budapest.”
“So Isabel can’t run,” Alex says.
So Isabel can’t run.
She makes it sound like I’m tracking Isabel down like some kind of fugitive.
“She’ll want to see you,” Nathaniel says.
“Totally,” Alex says, her voice unnaturally bright.
I focus my eyes straight ahead on the road. “This conversation isn’t helping at all.”
