Chapter 28

TWENTY-EIGHT

Saylor

I always look forward to lunch with the girls, but I've finally found my creative muse and have been making good progress with my art. Taking the time to get dressed up and go out when I'd rather be painting is a little frustrating, but I've always made my friendships a priority and don't intend to stop now.

I'm the last to arrive at the restaurant, and Harper waves me over.

"Hi!" She gives me a hug.

"Hey, guys!" I sink into the chair they saved for me.

"I have an announcement," Stevie says with a grin once we've ordered drinks.

"Oooh. Tell us." Harper cocks her head.

"I'm going to New York in two weeks. I'm going to do a special Alexa Humboldt show."

"Me too!" Chey says, grinning.

"Do it with us," Stevie says to me. "Please? I'll feel so much better with my friends around me. And we can all stay at my house because even though I'm going to do the show regardless, I really need to pull up my big girl pants and get my place ready to go on the market."

"Does Alexa even want me in the show?" I ask with a laugh.

"I already asked her, and she said to tell you absolutely. If you have time, you're in!"

I haven't done runway work in a while, probably two years, and while I don't mind doing it, it's never been my favorite.

I'll do it for Stevie, though.

She needs to get back on the proverbial modeling horse, so I'll suck it up. Besides, the timing works out for one of my soap opera appearances.

"All right," I say. "I can close the gallery for a few days, I guess. It's not like there's anything to sell."

"Yay!" Stevie claps her hands.

"I'll go too," Harper says. "For moral support."

"I think I'm going to walk in the show," Bailey says softly.

It takes a few seconds for her words to sink in, and then all of us let out various shrieks of excitement.

"Bailey! That's amazing!"

We all took a moment to hug and congratulate her.

Bailey had been in a car accident that shattered her right leg, hip, and pelvis. She was left with substantial scarring on one side as well as a pronounced limp stemming from the injured leg being shorter than the other. However, after the earthquake that hit L.A. last fall, where she reinjured the hip, a hip replacement and some other procedure I didn't understand eliminated the constant pain she'd been in and added some length to her damaged leg. She still has a slight limp but can more easily mask it with lifts in her shoes.

She tends to be self-conscious about it, so this is a huge step for her.

"I'm nervous as fuck, but Alexa timed it so it's a night when they guys don't have a game," Bailey says, "so Jensen can be there."

"Are you going to invite Canyon?" Harper asks me. "Because if it's a night off, I know Gabe and Ivan will show up."

"Effie's in the show too, which means Connor will be there," Chey interjects.

"Of course, I'll invite Canyon. The new nanny is starting so we're hoping that works out. Then he'll have a little more freedom."

"The team will be on a road trip," Harper says, "but it's a night off. They're getting special permission to travel from New York to Montreal on their own."

"I guess I need to diet for the next two weeks," I say, looking at the glass of wine the waitress had just brought me.

"Welcome to my world," Chey says, laughing.

"Well, to be honest, I think I'm done with modeling," I admit. "I'm more interested in doing my art. In fact, I just now decided this is going to be my last fashion show. I'm going to officially retire. So I want to look fantastic and go out with a bang."

"Alexa always makes us look amazing," Stevie gushes. "You know her specialty is making dresses for all shapes and sizes."

"Speaking of shapes and sizes." Harper has a mischievous smile on her face. "I have an announcement too." She pauses. "Gabe and I are going to have a baby."

"Oh!" I already knew, but everyone is momentarily startled at the announcement, but then we're on our feet again, hugging and squealing like teenagers.

Even Stevie.

She looks a little sad, but she's doing her damnedest not to react negatively, and my heart breaks for her.

"It's okay to be emotional," I whisper, hugging her to my side.

"Harper told me privately this morning," she whispers back. "She didn't want me to be blindsided. She even asked if it would be okay to announce at lunch and I told her to. I cried this morning, but I'm okay now."

"You're so strong," I whisper, giving her an extra tight hug. "And brave. And a good friend."

Tears flood her eyes. "I'm trying."

"Hey." Harper nudges her. "Didn't we already do the crying this morning?"

"Yeah, but then Saylor told me I was brave and strong, which got me going again." She elbows me.

Then we're all laughing and crying and talking about babies and weddings and all the wonderful things going on in our lives.

"So, you and Canyon?" Harper asks. "Are we still fuck buddies or is there a glimmer of serious in there?"

"We actually talked about the L word," I whisper in a conspiratorial tone.

Stevie's eyes nearly pop out of her head. "Seriously?"

"Canyon used the L word?" Bailey breathes in disbelief.

"We didn't use the word, we discussed it," I say patiently. "Like, we talked about the feelings we're having, how intense it is, and he admitted he's never been in love as an adult. So we're on the verge of love, but not in love."

"I can't believe it," Harper says with a laugh. "Canyon is the consummate bachelor."

"Underneath the gruff exterior, there's a tender, caring man," I say with a smile. "He's a little rough around the edges, for sure, but there's so much more to him than meets the eye."

"He's nice to look at," Stevie says with a chuckle.

"But it seems soon for the L word, no?" Harper asks.

"Well, it wasn't like we used the word directly, and then we started talking about how if things are still going well by fall, maybe moving in together."

"Seriously?" Chey looks delighted. "That's awesome."

"I didn't have you and Canyon getting together on this year's bingo card," Harper says with a giggle.

"To be honest, I kept telling myself it was just sex, just friendship, just friends-with-benefits…" I say with a fond smile. "But he keeps surprising me."

"Are things any better with you and Ally?" Bailey asks.

I sigh. "No. That's a bit of a chink in the machinery, but I'm trying to give her time and space."

"She's so angry," Stevie says softly. "I'm doing my best to show her that you're not the enemy, but she's stubborn and determined not to allow anyone in who might be a replacement for her mother."

"No one will ever replace her mother," I say. "Canyon keeps trying to tell her that, but the therapist says it's just a matter of letting her come to terms with all these changes in her life."

"If you and Canyon are already using the L word," Bailey says, "you're going to have to talk to her about everything."

"That's up to him. I don't want to push myself on her."

"I'm working on her," Stevie promises. "You just focus on being happy. You've waited a long time for the right guy."

I have.

Now I just have to figure out if it's Canyon.

* * *

I've just pulled up to my parking spot in the alley behind the gallery when I see the graffiti.

Big red letters.

On the back door.

SLUT.

My stomach clenches, and I squeeze the steering wheel.

Why does this keep happening?

Tears unexpectedly prick my eyelids, and my fingers shake as I call Rage.

"Hey, Saylor, what's up?"

"He did it again," I whisper.

"What? God dammit. Where are you?"

"Behind the gallery."

"I'm coming. Are you safe? Do not go inside."

"I'm in my car, and I won't." I disconnect and stare at the bright red letters.

Who is this person and why is he or she doing this to me?

My gut tells me it's a man, but I can't think of anyone who hates me this much. I've never had ugly breakups. Mostly, I'm the one who ends up with the broken heart. Sure, I've turned down a lot of guys over the years, but I'm not obligated to go out with every guy who asks, so I'm not sure what this could be about. I've had my share of affairs, but even if I was okay with a term like slut, it didn't apply to me.

Did it?

Did the fact that I'd been okay with just hooking up with Canyon somehow diminish me? The only people who know about that are my closest girlfriends, and there is no universe where they're behind this.

For the first time since this started—and since the beginning of my career—I'm genuinely scared.

Even at the height of my fame as a model, no one ever said or did anything so overt. Now that I've decided to retire, something so ugly is happening, and I don't like it.

Rage's massive SUV pulls up, and I'm instantly out of my car.

"Motherfucker." He looks pissed as he eyes the door. "How does this keep happening and no one catches him in the act? I'm going to find whoever it is. You have my word."

Before I can help myself, I hug him. "Thank you." I take a shaky breath. "And thank you for coming so quickly. You think they got inside?"

"Not a chance in hell." He gently pats my back like I'm a little kid, obviously uncomfortable with my show of affection. "The new security system is top-notch. That's why they did this on the back door, because they figured out they couldn't get in again. But give me your keys and let me look around. Then I'll check the cameras, see if we can get a glimpse of his face."

"Okay." I finally pull away, feeling better now that he's here. I'm having a hard time with this and wish I could call Canyon, but there's nothing he can do, and he has a game tonight. If I call or text, it'll just distract him.

Besides, Rage is here, so I'm safe.

I hurry behind him, and he tells me to stay outside after I punch in the code to the alarm.

A minute later he calls to me, and I walk in.

"Everything is locked up tight."

"Okay. Good." I wrap my arms around myself as I look around. "This is freaking me out, Rage."

"I know, hon." He squeezes my arm. "Maybe you should close the gallery for a few weeks, give us time to figure this out."

"I can't. I've got those two art classes I'm teaching, plus I refuse to be driven out of my own gallery. Fuck that and fuck him. Or her."

"I want to doublecheck everything at your house too, just in case."

"Now?"

"We have to call the police first. Eventually, this guy is going to screw up and we want there to be a record of everything. Maybe even a fingerprint."

"Do I have to stay?"

"No. You can go on home. I'll meet you there when I'm done."

"Thanks, Rage."

My good mood is gone as I get back in my car.

The excitement over the upcoming trip to New York and Harper's pregnancy has faded into fear, worry, and self-doubt.

Fear about my safety at the gallery and maybe even at home.

Worry about how I'm going to function if this guy keeps stalking me.

Concern about the safety of my students and clients.

I'm doing my best not to let it freak me out, but the freak-out is winning.

Rage needs to catch this guy.

Sooner rather than later.