Page 102 of #Moonstruck

“Absolutely.” She tossed me her keys, and I caught them. I had to adjust her seat and mirrors when I got in, since she was so much shorter. As she put on her seat belt, she glanced at me. “Maybe it was just the champagne talking. Won’t I be really overdressed for lunch?”

Not at all. “It’ll be fine. Who cares what other people think?”

“Where are we eating?”

“It’s not far,” I told her. That was all the information she’d be getting out of me for the rest of the day.

She was in the middle of telling me a story about something adorable Hector Jr. had done with a bowl of spaghetti when I pulled up in front of the restaurant.

“La Isla Cubana?” Angie asked, her face full of worry and concern. She had no idea what was about to happen, and instead of wondering, she thought of me first.

I got out of the car, forcing her to follow. “All your answers are inside.”

She hesitated on the sidewalk, but I pulled open the door and gave her a gentle nudge. Just beyond the hostess station, I could see they had cleared all the tables except for one. Fox knelt in the middle of the floor, surrounded by a sea of flowers, holding out a ring box to Angie.

Since her back was to me, I couldn’t see Angie’s expression, but I saw her hands fly up to her mouth in what I hoped was excitement. I let the door fall shut, letting them have their moment. I would be really and truly happy for them both. I would not stand out here and wonder if Ryan had been involved with this. If he was somewhere close by even now.

I wouldn’t think about how I’d been ready to marry Ryan.

Even though it made my heart break all over again.

When I got home, I tried, again, to write a song about Ryan and the breakup, thinking it might help me process my pain. It didn’t. It just brought back the agonizing grief. I decided it was better not to think about him.

As if that were possible when every song on the radio was his, and I saw his face practically every time I turned on the television.

He hadn’t told the media about our breakup, and I didn’t want to share that information, either. If they knew, it would have turned into a feeding frenzy. They wouldn’t have left me alone.

My still-intact privacy was one of the few things I was currently grateful for.

I should have known it wouldn’t last.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Not even twenty-four hours later, my life blew up.

“Maisy! Over here!”

“Maisy! What do you think about Ryan and Skyler? Did he cheat on you?”

“How long have you been broken up?”

“Did you know he was with Skyler Smith the entire time you were together?”

Startled, I threw my hands up in front of my face, not only because I couldn’t see past the flashing lights but also because I didn’t want them to have a picture of me reacting to their words. How had the paparazzi found me at my new apartment? Why were they saying those things? Skyler Smith? What were they talking about?

I made it to my car, keeping my head down. Ryan and I had been apart for over a month. It was possible he’d started dating again. I quickly called Angie after I locked my door.

When she picked up, I said, “I know I told you I don’t want to talk about him, but why are the paparazzi taking my picture? What’s going on with Skyler?”

There was silence for so long on her end I thought the call had dropped. “Um, the tabloids say they’re dating.”

My heart scrunched up inside my chest, and it felt like someone had dipped my lungs in lead. They fell into my stomach, making it impossible to breathe. “I’ll call you later.”

I turned off my phone and started up my newly purchased used car. For some reason I’d thought being able to buy myself a car would make me happy.

It hadn’t.

I carefully pulled out of the parking lot, avoiding the paparazzi, who were still yelling my name and taking pictures of me. Fitz had called a family/band meeting, which was why I’d actually bothered to leave my apartment.

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