Hollywood Heir (Westerly Billionaire #4)(57)

Sage closed her eyes and laid her head back on the couch. “I can’t live like that, Bella. I can’t doubt everything everyone says.”

“He lied to you.”

“I tell white lies to people every day. Not all lies are equal.”

“Bullshit. People are either honest or they’re not.”

Sage raised her head and met her friend’s eyes. “Then you must have a very low opinion of me.”

Bella opened her mouth, closed it, then said, “You sure know how to sway someone. You could be a barrister. You know I love you.”

“I know. I’m just saying I don’t know how I feel about any of this. I threw him out and told him I never wanted to see him again, and I meant it. He left and hasn’t called. I should feel good about that, but I don’t.”

“I’m sorry, Sage. I’m sorry this guy wasn’t who you thought he was.”

“Me too.”

Sage’s phone binged with an incoming message. She checked it.

Wayne: I was an ass. I should have told her who I was.

She frowned and went to put the phone down when her phone binged again, this time from a different number.

Eric here. I was the ass. I got scared and said things she has every right to hate me for.

Bing.

Wayne: You’re right. You were the bigger ass. You shouldn’t have left without telling her how much she means to you.

Bing.

Eric: You could have done the same. You knew she was the one for you from the first day. Admit it, she’s all you’ve thought about since then.

“Who is messaging you?” Bella asked.

Not yet sure what she thought of it, Sage answered, “It’s Wayne and Eric. They’re both sending me messages, but like they’re talking to each other. Eric’s arguing with himself.” She held the phone up for Bella to see.

“Oh my God, that is so w—”

“Sweet? You’re right,” Sage said, redirecting her. Yes, she was still angry with him. Once again, she would have turned down flowers and gifts, but this self-deprecating texting was winding its way through her anger.

“Okay.” Bella didn’t sound convinced. “Sage, I don’t know about this guy.”

Wayne: It’s time to tell her everything.

Eric: Do you think she would meet me for coffee?

Wayne: You? Where could you go that everyone wouldn’t be snapping photos and recording your conversation?

Eric: Well, she doesn’t want to see you anymore, not since she found out about the scar.

“They’re right,” Sage said.

Bella’s eyes rounded. “You realize he’s just one person, right? And that one person is fucking with you? Block him.”

Sage reread the messages and shook her head. “He’s apologizing.”

“While revealing a possible mental disorder.”

“Bella, just because you don’t understand him doesn’t mean he’s crazy. Do you know how many times in my life my parents have questioned my sanity because I didn’t fit into their definition of normal?”

“This is different.”

“To you.”

“Touché.”

Wayne: Invite her here. She trusted you enough to show you her life. Show her yours.

Eric: Here? You mean to my haven, the one no one knows about except my electrician? She’d never come here.

Wayne: She might if you told her that it would help her understand you.

Bella took out her own phone and began to type furiously.

“What are you doing?” Sage asked.

“I’m telling my assistant to clear my calendar for today. I know what you’re about to say, and there is no way in hell you’re going there alone.”

Sage hugged the phone to her chest. Curiosity warred with the memories of everything Eric had said to her as he left. Was having her questions answered worth risking a repeat of that feeling? “I have to know. I don’t expect it to fix what’s wrong between us, but I want to understand him—even if who he is isn’t someone I decide to be with. Does that make sense?”

Bella grudgingly nodded. “I guess. But I’m telling my office where we’re going.”

“That’s fair.”

“With instructions to send the police if they don’t hear from me once every hour.”

“That’s a little much, but okay.”

“And I’m making sure someone knows where we are at all times.”

“That might actually be a good idea.” Sage wanted to assure her it wouldn’t be necessary. Eric was a public figure. He wasn’t dangerous. Then Sage remembered how far his grandmother had gone to protect him. She considered herself irrepressibly optimistic, but that didn’t mean she was oblivious to the fact that not everyone could be trusted.

With her thumb hovering over the incoming messages, Sage wasn’t sure at first which one to respond to. She finally chose Eric.

Sage: I’m still angry with you, but I’m willing to hear what you have to say.

Eric: I could come to you, but it’s hard to go anywhere without some kind of disguise.

Sage met Bella’s eyes, then typed, I’ll come to you.

He sent her the address along with detailed instructions. Sage almost told him she was bringing Bella but decided not to. Trust was like a snowdrop; if trampled it had a difficult time recovering.