As well as the photo-shoot and interview went—it dragged on for hours longer than planned, because Sapphire and I couldn't stop chatting outside of the perimeters of our fashion subject—I spent days ruminating over the events that happened within it.

Cameron. Breathing down my neck, starting flames in my belly. Confessing he missed me, might have loved me, might still love me.

What the fuck was I supposed to do with that?

I had tons of notes to go through. Scribbles of my meeting with Sapphire. Personal fashion-related anecdotes, conversations about trends that she followed and some she refused to. Photos to sort through and decide which I'd use in my final draft that I'd post on my website.

Still...I couldn't focus. I struggled to see straight and spent time with music blasting into my ears, doing everything I could to erase Cameron's words from my brain.

Nothing worked. His voice echoed inside, ringing, dazzling, hurting.

And being near Leo didn't help. I was supposed to tell him everything, to not hide things from him. But could I tell him Cameron still had feelings for me, and had admitted it to my face? Gently whispering it into my ear? That he'd stood so close I could feel him, though he wasn't actually touching me?

No, I couldn't tell Leo that. The way he'd reacted from seeing Cameron and I innocently hug...who knew what he'd do if I told him about this? He'd implied to me he wasn't violent, wasn't some mafia lord; but if he found out Cameron was trying to get me back, he might see red. He might get too pissed off, and might do something he'd regret.

And while Cameron's timing was awful, and I preferred not to be near him if at all possible, I didn't wish him harm.

I was staring at my notes one morning, figuring out where I wanted to start, what paragraph would work best as an introduction for this article. Leo strolled in, towel drying his hair from a shower. He was bare-chested, a few drops of water dotted over his rippled muscles as he padded into my office space—a modest guest room he'd refurbished for me.

He stopped behind me. "Writer's block?" I sensed him there, steam coming off his body from the hot water.

A drop splashed onto my shoulder, dragging me out of my bubble. "Uh, yeah," I set my pen down and closed my laptop, "sure, that's it."

"Hey," he said, stooping next to me, one hand cupping my knee as he swiveled my chair to face him. "I get writer's block too, you know. Full-blown imposter syndrome. You know what helps with that?"

From the way he kneeled in front of me, hungrily eyeing my lower half, I assumed he was going to offer me a round of hot, sticky sex, right there in the office. It was one of the rooms we hadn't fucked in, after all, and knowing him, he'd want to christen it soon enough.

"Um," I licked my lips, fighting the delicious image of him standing up, removing his pants, and stroking his length as I watched in awe, "no? What are you suggesting?" My voice elevated and I gulped, my heart palpitating with anticipation. We'd had sex last night, but every time we did, it was a new and intense experience. Especially when we weren't in the bedroom.

He pressed his hands on both my knees to lean forward, and I half-expected him to tug my leggings down. "A vacation."

My eyebrows shot up so fast it was nearly painful. "Huh?"

He straightened up, and whatever I'd seen in his eyes and mistaken for lust, transformed to something else. A pinch of excitement, anticipation; but not a growing desire to fuck me.

I was almost disappointed.

"Yeah," he said, setting the towel around his neck as he beamed at me. "A quick vacation. Nothing fancy, getting out of town for a day or two, get some fresh air, out of New York, you know? I have a small estate in Vermont that I've kind of left to disrepair, and I'd love to show it to you."

"Nothing fancy?" I scoffed—a small estate in Vermont sounded pretty damn fancy to me, but Leo saw things differently. He didn't even think his TriBeCa penthouse was luxurious, compared to other celebrities. To him, unless you had a four-story mansion in upstate New York, you were a lower-end billionaire. Whatever the hell that meant.

He chuckled. "You know what I mean. It's quaint in contrast to all this. Probably dusty and worn-down, but it's charming, and it's away from all this nonsense. You need the time off, don't you?" He didn't give me an opportunity to answer before he grabbed my hands and hauled me to my feet. "I know I do. It's not so far that it'll take forever to get to, but far enough to make it seem like we traveled a long way. In a giant forest, surrounded by nothing; the closest city is St Albans City, and it's like an hour away."

As much as I was a city girl through and through, the notion of escaping the honks and traffic and stuffiness was appealing. Some peace and quiet, some serenity to finally work on this article and polish it for publishing? I didn't have a deadline, but the longer I postponed and procrastinated, the less motivation I had to finish it.

"Okay," I said, warming up at Leo's touch. "It would be nice to get away, I agree."

"Perfect." He tugged me close and plastered a wet kiss on my temple. "Pack a bag, and let's go."

"Wait, now? Like, right this second?" I balked at him, my hands dropping to my sides. "You can take off like that, at the drop of a hat?"

His wide, toothy grin almost made me chortle. "Of course I can. Petra knows I need some time off. I already had Nicky putting together ingredients for the weekend and some of my other staff called ahead to prep the jet."

He'd been planning this, the little fiend. Either he'd anticipated I'd say yes, or he didn't care if I did. He might have thrown me over his shoulder and forced me onto his jet if I'd hesitated.

I scowled at him, but his grin only widened. "Don't be mad. I assumed you'd want to go, stressed as you've been. The idea came to me a while ago, but resurfaced after you got home from meeting with Sapphire. And seeing as Sapphire stressed me out, too...I concluded we should take off for a few, yeah?"

I wouldn't admit to him that Sapphire wasn't my source of stress, but it'd be best to let him believe that, for now. Until I decided how to admit to him that Cameron was the problem.

***

It took me an hour to pack up some clothes. Leo insisted I bring a bit of everything, because he had no idea what we'd do over there. I also grabbed my laptop and notes, a few pairs of shoes, and all my makeup and skincare supplies.

Seconds later, we were stuffed into a compact service car that brought us to a back part of JFK airport.

The trip was quick. We went up, then down in a flash, and I barely had a chance to take in the jet's luxury, remembering the last time I'd been in it to go visit Leo in California. We landed on an isolated runway encircled by tall trees, under a graying fall sky.

I hadn't even noticed which staff members were with us, at first, though Leo had warned me we wouldn't be fully alone all weekend. He couldn't go to this cabin without Nicky, he'd said, because Nicky loved this place. He'd also brought along a few security guys, a temp he'd hired as a PA until they got someone permanent, a few people I didn't know, and as I found out when we disembarked...

Belle?

Belle. Of all his staff, he brings her?

She avoided my gaze, as usual, but there was something more off about her than I remembered. She was wary, and didn't show herself for the entire trip—she was seated away from us, in the rear of the jet. She almost appeared as conflicted about her own presence as I was. Even she didn't quite know why she was here?

I didn't say anything to Leo at first, too confused to comprehend her being around for our mini-vacation. She was a wardrobe assistant, so why would she be tagging along? Unless he had something upscale planned at some point, but he'd been clear that he had no idea what he wanted us to do while we were here. Or maybe she needed a vacation, too, and he'd offered for her to accompany us, but do her own thing.

I realized when we reached the cabin, after a quick golf-cart ride over a forest-trail, passing thick trees and hidden coves, that there'd be plenty of room for all of us, and then some. It wasn't a cabin; it was a full-on mansion. An immense house made of that same log-style wood that composed most cabins in forests, but it was four, no, five times the size of a normal cabin. And with a backyard so large it took my breath away.

When he'd said estate, Leo wasn't kidding.

Trees surrounded us, their pine and oaky scents infiltrating my nose as we walked up the pathway to the front door. A few employees had already snuck in, so the door was wide open, revealing a beautiful staircase in the middle of the lobby, leading up to a second-floor balcony. The high ceiling was painted a dark emerald shade, and the floors were a light, polished wood.

Inside, a dust odor replaced the forest scent, but two of Leo's staff—I presumed they were maids—scurried forward and started dusting and sweeping as Leo took me on a tour. All the doors were mahogany, sturdy, with handles molded to look like pinecones. There was a main living room with an enormous, stony fireplace that had been lit, the flames already flickering heat into the space. A faux-fur carpet rested in front of the fire, and Leo promised we'd also lounge there and snuggle, at some point.

As he guided me from room to room—another living room, a fully-equipped and very upgraded kitchen, an indoor garden overlooking the backyard, two offices, a gym, a library—I thought of another reason why Belle might have come with us.

"Leo," I asked, as he led me up the stairs, to show me our bedroom, "I noticed you brought Belle with us." He twisted his neck to nod at me, his eyes slightly narrowing. "Is it because she's a specialist with clothing and styling, and you assumed maybe she could help me with my article?"

I'd gotten the idea when he showed me the second office, which had a view of the forest, the leaves peacefully shifting in the wind. Yes, this was a vacation, but he'd also told me it'd be a perfect spot to concentrate on my work, and not be interrupted. Thinking of that, interspersed with images of Belle and still wondering why she was here...I figured it out. She could help me, if she got off her high horse for two seconds. Her knowledge of trends and colors was extensive, and I could use her insight for my article. Whether she'd be willing to assist...that was a different story.

"Oh," he said, taken aback but doing his hardest to hide it. "Yeah, sure, that's definitely why she's here. Come on," he veered left as we reached the top, "check out the view from our room."

I wasn't convinced by his response. He was his normal self for most of the trip, but whenever I brought up Belle or if she was in our vicinity, he tensed. And he never tensed around Belle, not that I'd noticed.

So what happened? Had she finally made advances on him, proving she was into him, and not me? Had he brought her here to fire her, or to test her, or was I losing my mind because every time she was around I got all flustered and bothered and—

"Emma?" Leo's voice startled me.

I hadn't realized I'd been gaping out the window, my nose pressed to the glass. "Huh?"

His soft touch on my arm to turn me around grounded me back in the present. "You okay? You zoned the fuck out while I was explaining stuff about the forest you're seeing."

"Oh." He snuck his arms around me from behind, and I immediately smelled the liquor on his breath. He'd been drinking the entire way here, including on the jet, and yet I was the one dazed with every step I took. "Sorry, I'm...distracted. Thinking about the article, you know."

"Well, don't," he said, lovingly nuzzling me deeper into his embrace, holding me tighter. "Worry about that tomorrow, okay? Today, I want you to take a nice, hot bath, and relax. Then we'll have a tasty dinner and a night-cap by the fire, yeah? Sound good?"

I watched him waver, not having realized until now how actually inebriated he was. I'd been so fixated on Belle being here, and on the shock of getting out of the city so abruptly, and the change of atmosphere. I hadn't noticed that my boyfriend was basically already drunk.

Had he started drinking before we left, while I packed my things? I only remembered him having one drink, maybe two on the jet. But he could have had more; I'd looked out the window a lot, still lost in my confusion about Cameron.

So he'd been drinking all day, and I'd been zoning out. What a pair we made.

I had noticed his liquor consuming habits worsening over the past few weeks. Not that he'd ever been super sober, but he usually reserved the alcohol for parties or after stressful work days. Lately, it was every night, several drinks. It hadn't bothered me because he wasn't particularly annoying when drunk, nor had he been straight-up drunk. A bit tipsy and more handsy than most nights, but that wasn't a problem for me. I liked it when he was handsy.

When did this over-drinking issue start? I tried to trace it back as I unpacked my things and set a few outfits to hang in the closet. The room was spacious, but narrower than our room back at the townhouse. A smaller bed, but comfortable-looking nonetheless, covered in plush blankets and fluffy pillows. The theme was woodsy, dark, but tasteful. And the closet wasn't a walk-in, but was still large enough to fit most of my wardrobe from home and his.

I remembered. The drinking started when he took his hiatus from the band. When he accepted the duet with Sapphire. If he drank like that, it must have meant he was overwhelmed, right? So did that mean he didn't want to do the solo stint? And he didn't want the Sapphire duet?

I tried to move all these concerns from my mind, for the time being. We'd come to this remote mansion for calm, for tranquility; not to rack our brains and fill up with anxiety.

I had a lovely bath, with no interruption. Then we had a pleasant dinner, executed perfectly by Nicky, who loved this mansion specifically because of its kitchen. Not that he'd ever cooked an imperfect meal, but he insisted this place inspired him and he concocted some of the most delicious dishes I'd ever eaten.

After dinner, Leo and I sat in the living room, in front of the roaring fireplace, nursing glasses of red wine. We were silent, only the crackling fire in the air, and it was marvelous. I hadn't realized how badly I needed this silence, this isolation.

Leo snuggled close to me, at one point, and hefted me onto his lap, straddling him. I had to balance my wine to not spill over his crisp, blue shirt. We'd dressed up a little for the dinner, me wearing a maxi dress and heels, and him sporting tight jeans and this lovely top that I couldn't wait to unbutton and take off him.

"So," he said, setting his wine down on the side table, and taking mine away, too. I glared at him, but that didn't deter him. "I...have a confession to make."

I scrunched my eyebrows, still upset that he took my drink from me. "A confession?"

Saying the word out loud startled me. A confession? And I thought I was the one with secrets...

What would Leo be hiding from me?

I gulped. "What is it?"

He winced, but hurried to fix his face in the most neutral expression he could muster. "The real reason why Belle is with us on this vacation."

♪♪♪