22. Just A Name

Jane

"Our magazine feature was just released," Colton announces once we're thirty thousand feet in the air. He was right. This is a smooth ride, though I wasn't a big fan of the takeoff part.

He reaches into his briefcase and places the magazine on the table between us.

The blood drains from my face. "Wait. We made the cover?"

"Yep. It always baffles me that people are so interested in my life. It's—what's wrong?"

I'm frozen, my eyes still glued to the picture on the front page of this prominent magazine. One I'm sure will end up on every newsstand and supermarket display in the country. My hair color might not be my natural shade, but my eyes betray me every single time. I knew I should have gone for contacts, but I was a mess trying to put them on, so I gave up. I figured if I ever got so famous I was on the front page of some big-shot magazine, I'd have a team of security guards around me at all times.

"You're afraid he'll find you," Colton says, as if reading my mind. I detach my gaze from the magazine, and my eyes meet his. That puts me at ease, reminding me that I'm safe. I might not have a security team, but I have Colton, and I know he won't let anything happen to me.

I nod slowly. "I didn't think it'd be such a big deal. The photoshoot was low-key and—I don't know. I just figured it was some business gazette or bridal magazine. Not Fashion Warehouse."

"I'm sorry," he says, his hand grazing mine. "Had I known about your past from the beginning, I would have refused the feature. It was just a way to build awareness of our relationship."

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. I should have asked about it. Maybe he won't recognize me." Though I highly doubt it. When someone steals a pile of cash from you, I'm guessing their face becomes etched into your brain forever.

Colton clears his throat. "Would you be mad if I looked into him? I can find out where he is. That might put you at ease. He wouldn't know about it, of course."

My mouth goes dry. The last thing I want is news about Zander, but ever since I left, there's been this Damocles sword hovering over me, and I'm afraid it's going to slice me in two. I'm lucky that Colton has the means to do this for me. I can trust him to keep it under wraps. "How?"

"I have a PI. He's highly professional, the best in his field. He could probably dig up the guy's whereabouts and current activities in about a week. Then, we can keep an eye on him. If he comes anywhere near you, we'll see what we can do about it. I do have connections at the LAPD, if it ever came to that."

Everything about Colton's speech is matter-of-fact, but it still shoots off fireworks in my belly. I want to dial them down, but I can't. This wonderful, kind man is offering me security, peace of mind. Something I never thought I'd have. He's right. I will sleep better once I know where Zander is. Knowledge is power. "Okay. You can look him up."

Nodding, he takes his phone from his pocket and starts typing.

"Wait," I say, scrunching my eyebrows in thought. "Didn't you look me up before we started this whole, um, thing?"

He raises his eyes from the screen. "I did, yeah. But we didn't do a full background check with my PI. Max did it himself. We didn't want too many people involved, and since the casting was invitation-only and we were on a tight timeline, we didn't do a full investigation."

"Okay," I say, biting my lip. I look around nervously, but we're still the only two people in this small aircraft, aside from the crew in the cockpit. "Max clearly doesn't have a future in investigative work."

"What do you mean?"

I swallow to moisten my dry throat. "Because when I left five years ago, I used most of Zander's money to change my identity."

Colton's eyes widen. "What?"

"My name isn't Jane Myers, and I'm not from Arizona. My natural hair color is sunny blonde, and I grew up in a trailer park in Nevada. That's where I escaped from."

Colton's mouth forms a little o.

"I was so afraid he'd find me, I cut and dyed my hair as soon as I got off the bus. I asked around and found this guy who created an entire new identity for me. New name, new birthplace, new social security number, new driver's license, an entire digital footprint. Glad to see it actually worked. Though I'm guessing you're going to need my real information if you're hoping to find Zander."

"I—yes. It'd make things easier," he stammers while staring at me, probably trying to imagine me with blonde hair. "What's your real name?"

I cringe. "Promise you won't tell anyone other than your PI?"

"Promise." He nods curtly. "And I have an NDA in place with him too."

"And promise you won't laugh."

He arches an eyebrow. "I won't laugh."

"And that you'll keep calling me Jane."

His silver eyes soften. "You'll always be Jane to me."

"Trixie Balls."

"Okay," he says, lowering his eyes back to his phone. He starts typing again.

I frown. "You're really not going to laugh? That name is awful."

"I do prefer Jane Myers," he says. "But a name is just that—a name. What you do with your life is what matters most. We'll find that prick. And I'll make sure he doesn't come anywhere near you."

Colton

"I'm sorry, Mr. Green." The receptionist says, scratching his beard. "We couldn't reserve both of the rooms you requested."

Horror flashes across Jane's face, and my blood pumps harder through my veins. The only consolation regarding this trip was that we'd both have our space. That I'd have somewhere to take a breather, especially after that heavy conversation on the plane. Not to mention my overprotectiveness when it comes to Jane. I need a timeout. "What do you mean? I booked two rooms with a connecting door. We're guests at the wedding."

"Uh, yes. It's because of the wedding that the hotel is at full capacity, and they needed an additional room for the bridal party. Mr. Hunter reckoned it might"ve been a bit of a mix-up when you initially reserved two rooms."

"It was not a bloody mistake," I growl through gritted teeth. The receptionist takes a step back, probably surprised by the chill in my tone. I clear my throat and take a deep breath. "It was for . . . storage."

"We'd be more than happy to store anything you need."

"Never mind. We'll figure it out," I grumble, snatching the key card from the front desk. I know it's pointless to scout the area for another hotel. Wade and Roxy are getting married in the same secluded town in east England that I called home for so many years. There's nothing else here.

We make our way to the elevator, and once we're alone, I turn to Jane. "I'm truly sorry. This wasn't part of the contract."

She swallows hard but doesn't look at me. "It's fine. It's only two nights."

I shove my hands in my pockets. "Right."

She doesn't seem too affected, but flames are lapping inside me at the thought of sleeping in the same room as Jane. These past few days, I've been staying away from her as much as possible, and I'm not sure I can handle this new forced proximity.

We find our room, and it's tiny. I knew this wouldn't be a five-star hotel when I looked at the photos, but now that we're sharing this space, it feels minuscule. One double bed with nightstands on each side, a two-seater sofa against the left wall, and a dresser with a TV mounted above it. Bland artwork graces the walls, and on the right, there's a door leading to what I'm guessing is a miniature bathroom.

Jane starts unpacking like this is no big deal, and I just stand there, paralyzed.

She gives me a pointed look. "It's fine, Colton. I know you don't like to share, but it's just sleeping, and just two nights."

I want to slap myself out of my trance, but I scratch my forehead instead and proceed to unpack my stuff. She's right. It's just two nights. I can handle it. But no matter how many times I repeat that line to myself, it never starts to feel true.