Page 31 of The Oscar Escape
Aria leaned against the desk. The reality of her situation sank in. She stared at her notebook. “What about the tour? Dom and Malik must be worried sick about me—or they want to kill me. Probably both.”
“I called Dom first. He and Malik know that you’re safe with me.”
Her heart hammered. She could hear the blood whooshing in her ears. “I have to get back to Boston. I have so much to do, and I’m running out of time to do it.”
He tightened his hold on her hands. “You don’t have to get back.”
She slipped her fingers from his grip. “What are you talking about? Of course I do.”
“Your calendar’s been cleared. There’s more to life than hitting double platinum.”
That got her attention. “How do you know about that?” She huffed. “Never mind, Dom told you, didn’t he? I’m sure the two of you had quite a bit to say about me.”
Oscar didn’t have a second to answer. His cell lit up, and the lyrics to “Believe” cut through the tension in the air.
“Ivy did that,” he mumbled as Dom’s name flashed on the smartphone’s screen. He passed her his cell. “He’ll want to talk to you.”
She braced for impact, then tapped the screen to answer the call. “Hey, Dom,” she said, putting him on speakerphone—might as well. Oscar seemed to be a step ahead of her. What could it hurt?
“Hey, Dom?” the man balked. “That’s what you have to say to me?”
Here it comes.
“Aria Paige-Grant,” Dominic chided, “I could throttle you. What were you thinking? Oh, wait, you weren’t thinking.”
“I’m sorry. Send a car to me. I’m not at the hotel. I’m by the water,” she said, peering out the window. “I’m in some little seaside town near Boston.” She studied the phone, waiting for Dom to agree, but he didn’t say a word. “Dom, I need a car,” she reiterated. “I don’t have my cell with me. All I’ve got is my notebook.” She tapped the cover. Her mind was racing a mile a minute, going over everything she needed to do. “And while I’m in transit, could you get on rescheduling my meeting with the influencers?” She waited and was met with another bout of silence.
“I can’t send a car for you, Aria.”
“Why not? It’s a car. All it has to do is pull up to wherever the hell I am.”
What was so hard about that?
“She doesn’t know, Dom. We just woke up,” Oscar offered.
She eyed the man. “What don’t I know?”
Oscar looked out the window. “We’re not exactly near Boston.”
Her jaw about hit the floor. “Whereexactlyare we?” She gasped as the pieces came together. “I was kidnapped.”
“No,” Dom said, rejoining the conversation, and oh, how nice of him to grace her with his comment. “You weren’ttechnicallykidnapped. Oscar and I decided this was what’s best for you.”
Make way for the sass explosion.
“You and Oscar decided this? Why didn’t you say that? You know how I love having other people make decisions for me.”
“You need to disappear, not only so you can give your body a rest, but for your career. You’re all anyone can talk about,” Dom shot back, obviously not amused by her tone. The guy wasn’t messing around, which did not bode well for her.
“From the irritation in your voice, I’m guessing that the talk doesn’t paint me in a positive light,” she replied, dropping the sarcasm.
“You had a public breakdown. People are talking about that, but it’s not what set the internet and the music world on fire.”
“It’s not? What are they talking about, then?”
“For starters,” Dom began, losing the prickliness and injecting a thread of fascination into his tone, “people are buzzing about the hulking man who swooped in like a knight in gray-hooded armor.”
Aria studied thehulking manstanding in front of her, looking very uncomfortable in a gray hoodie. “They’re talking about Oscar—not my music? How is that a good thing?”
