going to talk to Miles about the travel stuff and call Tom. You order dinner—the phone is on the table.”
He could do those things. Scooting up hurt, but he could do it.
She walked to the door, dialing as she went.
When he’d asked her to help him out, it had never occurred to him that she’d have to do so much for him, but it was like a godsend, having her here.
He hadn’t thought about telling her about the project earlier. He knew it was silly and sentimental—there could never be resolution with all the dark parts of his childhood, even if the role felt like giving a gift to the child he’d been. A kind of resolution. His parents were dead and gone, so there couldn’t be any peace from that corner, but David and Lucy had been the only real parental figures in his life.
And Grace...he could make things right with her. He could make their tentative friendship a real friendship again. Talk it out. Maybe it was time to talk it out now that she’d grown comfortable enough to yell at him. That had to be some kind of sign.
He just had to think about what to say, make sure that he planned it out and didn’t do anything to make things worse between them.
Tomorrow. He’d think about it tomorrow. Tonight he’d eat, do whatever she told him to do, and tomorrow, when some of the pain had abated...
“WHAT TIME ARE we taking off?” Liam asked, leaning back in his seat with the foot rest raised.
The private jet loaned to him by the studio had all the bells and whistles, and none of the executives—both of which he was thankful for. The circle of people in the know was already large enough between his crew, Grace, and Tom—who’d been sworn to secrecy about the ankle situation and seemed happy to go along with the ruse.
“We’re supposed to take off in fifteen minutes.” Miles’s voice came from the seats behind where he and Grace sat.
Grace had the ice back on his foot, and she’d managed to get another couple of diuretics from James. Liam looked up at her. “Shouldn’t I take one of those swelling pills again?”
“Not when you’re flying,” she said, settling into the seat beside him.
Despite the understanding they’d reached last night, she still didn’t look happy with him or being there.
“Why not?”
“Being dehydrated on a flight increases the chances of a blood clot forming. Really, you should be drinking more water right now, especially since your mobility is lessened—you can’t get up and walk around much, and you can’t put weight on that ankle to flex the muscles well enough to—”
“But I’m not dehydrated right now. I’m just overly hydrated at the ankle. And our window between when we arrive and when we have to get ready is small.”
“I know. We’re doing the best we can.”
“I’ll risk it.”
“No.”
“Grace, it took three hours last time to get the swelling to go down.”
“I know, but we’ll just have to try and make it work. Maybe keeping your leg elevated on the flight will help it.”
“It’s not that elevated.”
“You can lie on the floor after takeoff and put it on the seat again if you want to.”
“It takes an hour to kick in. You want me to compromise on things? You have to compromise too, Grace.”
Shouldn’t she be happier with him now? She knew this wasn’t just about ego.
“I will, when it’s not life-threatening levels of dangerous.” Her mouth said yes, but the shake of her head made him doubt she meant it. “Just relax for now. You have a long flight, and I know you didn’t sleep well last night. Maybe you can sleep now that the worst of the pain has passed.”
“I doubt it.”
“Well, I have a way to pass the time if you’re all done fighting,” Tom, the middle-aged stylist, snapped at Grace, and pointed to the front of the plane. “I need a few pictures of you.”
Grace made a face. “Liam sent you a picture yesterday and I’m here in person today. Have you deleted the picture already?”
“No, but that was one angle, and it was from behind. I was flying blind on what your chest was like until I met you last night.”
“And now you’ve seen it.”
“He saw your chest?” Liam asked, frowning dramatically, wanting to cajole her out of her glowering a little. “That hardly seems fair. I’m the one footing this shopping expedition.”
“He didn’t see-it see it.” Grace made an annoyed sound, unbuckled her seat belt and went to stand where Tom had directed. She suffered through a series of photographs as he had her stand full front facing, then three-quarter profiles both left and right, and then again from the back, and three-quarters profile back...
By the time they got to the last couple of photos, her hands were on her hips and she repeatedly took deep, disgruntled breaths.
“You’re very pretty to be so camera-averse,” Tom mumbled, letting her off the hook with a gesture for her to go back to her seat.
“I don’t even want to know why I did that,” she muttered, buckling back in beside Liam.
“You’re probably lucky he didn’t have you strip down to...” The statement died in Liam’s throat.
Since last night he’d been mentally working through ways to bring up that trench coat, but that was not the right way to do it. Especially here in front of everyone.
The hint of color creeping back into her cheeks confirmed that her thoughts had gone to the same place. He had to say something else to drag her out of it, so he went with the real explanation. “He’s probably looking at gowns on his tablet and some books. He wants to see you in the right profile so he can easily picture how a dress would work for you.”
“I guess.” She reached for a magazine stashed on the wall beside her seat, shutting the conversation down.
But if that look she’d given him was anything to go by, he had an inkling how she was going to react. Not great, but maybe if he did this right, it wouldn’t be so bad.
“Body frame is very important when it comes to the style of a gown,” Tom confirmed.
Just another reason he didn’t want to talk about this all here. The small cabin made it possible for everyone to hear every word. They didn’t need all their issues on display, this uneasy alliance was already juicy enough.
But he didn’t want to dance around the subject anymore. She didn’t need to know all the gritty details but he could apologize. Tell her it wasn’t a reflection
