Page 15 of Scandal
I steal a glance at her. That warmth creeps up her neck once more as she tries to avoid my gaze. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because…” She seems to pause, choosing her words carefully before replying. “They’re all worried about you, Asher. They’ve called and texted. Darius even came here to see you.”
“That one was my parents’ fault. I didn’t even know he’d been here until he was halfway back to London.”
“Would it have mattered if you’d known?”
The silent way I grit my teeth appears to answer her question. No, probably not.
“You’ve pushed everyone away. They were at a loss for what else to do.”
“So they sent you?” I see her grimace out of the corner of my eye, and I instantly regret my harsh words. “I’m sorry, Mercury. I didn’t mean it that way. I just don’t like the idea of you coming all this way. I mean, what if something happened to you?”
“I am a grown-ass woman, Asher.”
“Oh, believe me, I know…” I mutter under my breath, the words spilling out before I can stop them. “I mean, I’m sure you’re more than capable. I just…”Change the subject, asshole. “What were you doing on the side of the road?”
Christ almighty.
“What?” She seems a bit flustered. That makes two of us. But I didn’t exactly plan on running into my manager’s daughter on the side of the road today.
Oh, I didn’t mention that part? Yeah, she’s my bandmate’s little sisterandmy manager’s daughter.
Fuck my life.
“You were saying something when I drove up about a cab driver?”
“You heard that?” She looks mortified.
“You were quite loud. And animated.”
She lets out a frustrated sigh. “When I got off the plane, I realized I’d accidentally booked my car service for the wrong day. As I was standing there, trying to figure out my next step, this kind old man approached me and asked if I needed a cab.”
“Please tell me he was licensed.”
“Yes!” she says, rolling her eyes. “I’m not that naïve. I made sure he was a real cab driver, Ash.”
Almost everyone calls me Ash. It’s a nickname I’ve had since primary school. But hearing her say it makes it feel new, different. Special.
“He really was sweet. He had snacks and water in his cab and called me lassie.” I try to hide my smile. Likes being called lassie, does she? “Perhaps if I were here on vacation, I would have enjoyed my impromptu tour of Edinburgh, but I’m not, and it only caused me even more stress.”
“So this part-time historian and cab driver takes you all over Edinburgh?—”
“For hours,” she emphasizes.
“Right, but that doesn’t explain how you ended up on the side of the road.”
“I’m getting there. It’s a long story.” She gives me a sideways glance. “Anyway, after I’ve seen and learned all there is to know about Edinburgh, after my cab driver asked me several times why in the world someone young like me would be going to Iverloch when there’s so much to do in Edinburgh.”
“Jesus, this bloke sounds like a paid spokesman for Scottish tourism.”
“If he isn’t, they’re seriously missing out. Anyway, to his dismay, he finally drives me to Iverloch. I thank him, pay my enormous cab fare, and go check into my hotel.”
I open my mouth to ask her which one. There are only two in town, but I would gladly drive her to either. I don’t get the chance to offer, though. She just keeps talking. It’s a drastic change from the wide-eyed, silent fan girl I met a year ago.
“I checked my reservation before leaving LA and even double-checked it when I arrived in Edinburgh. But when I reached the hotel, they had no record of it.”
