Page 33 of The Oscar Escape
She rubbed the muscles at the base of her neck. “What’s more unsavory than me not being able to work?”
“There’s still someone out there who’s called in threats.”
Oscar’s body went rigid. She could feel the tension rolling off him.
“If Malik doesn’t have to protect you twenty-four seven, he and the team can dedicate this time to following up on the security issues.”
She nodded. She wasn’t happy about it, but it made sense.
“Aria?” Dom called.
“Sorry, I’m nodding . . . yes, I get it.”
“Okay, I’ve got to go. Malik’s waving me over. Stay with Oscar—it’s just for a few days.”
“A few days?” she screeched.
“You need this. Let Oscar take care of you. And try to follow your own advice.”
“And what advice is that?”
“Believe in who you are. Know yourself. Know your heart.”
Now he was quoting her music back to her. Before she could call him out, Dom was gone.
Call ended.
“You need to listen to Dominic,” Oscar said with a hint of know-it-all in his tone, leaving her feeling not so bad about decking the guy on the chin.
Still, something wasn’t adding up.
She set Oscar’s phone on the desk and took a step toward him. “Why did you show up at the club?”
He turned to face her. “Because you needed help. You were out of control. This was worse than the last time, Aria. I could tell you were in a bad place when we had that video call with Pheebs a couple of weeks ago.”
She studied his expression. “And then you happened to be in Boston?”
“I was passing through the area for a project.”
“I thought you were working on photographing fall colors in Colorado?” The last time she’d interacted with him was that video call with Phoebe. He’d been in Colorado and hadn’t mentioned anything about the East Coast.
He crossed his arms, closing himself off. She was well acquainted with this version of Oscar Abrams Elliott.
“I’m shooting the East Coast, too. That’s why we’re here. You’ll stay with me. Only our families and Dom know where we are. You need a break. If you push yourself any harder, you could . . .”
“What? Do you think I could die?” The second her words burst from her lips, she wanted to duct tape her mouth shut. It didn’t matter how upset she was with the man. It was cruel to dangle that threat in front of him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be nasty.”
With his poker face giving nothing away, he twisted his chain, but the ring wasn’t attached.
“Did you lose your mom’s ring?” she asked and scanned the room, looking for the piece of jewelry.
“Check your left hand.”
She froze and peered at the woven gold and silver band glinting on her ring finger. How did it get there? She gazed at the tinyHandMetched on one of the silver waves, and the anger and frustration pulsing through her veins let up. “I’ve always loved this ring. H and M for your mom, Holly Marie,” she whispered. It was as if the piece of jewelry wanted her to cool off and stop going at Oscar like a rabid dog. It sounded nuts—but so did just about everything else. She touched the ring. Whatever Oscar had done, it must have come from a good place.
“Don’t try to butter me up, Aria. You can’t wear me down. We’re staying put. And we don’t have a choice after what you pulled last night.”
Dammit!She was ready to give the guy a break. And there he goes again—thinking the worst of her.
