It was impossible being near him and not wanting to rush into his arms. Knowing she may never have a chance to be with him…and Marissa ever again had her chest tightening and tears threatening to appear.

She hurried out of the dining room and into the foyer, looking for an escape. Several guests lingered at the base of the stairs. She’d have to interrupt them to head up to her room, so instead, she took the stairs down to the wine cellar; yanked the big, heavy door open; and slipped inside.

Tears welled in her eyes, and she pressed her fingers to her lids. She would not cry. Not right now, anyway. She had to make it through the next few hours.

She forced several deep breaths. She’d just focus on making sure everything ran smoothly and after dinner escape to her room. Lia would be gone the next day, and she could focus on the next steps.

The cellar door opened behind her and she turned quickly. Wes?

Lia. “There you are,” the other woman said.

She wiped her eyes quickly and cleared her throat. “Did you need me for something?”

“Yeah, I, uh…” She moved into the cellar, letting go of the door.

“Maybe don’t let the…door shut,” Sarah said with a sigh as it closed. She hurried toward it and gave a quick tug on the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. “Damn.”

Lia’s eyes widened. “What?”

“This door has been sticking lately, so it’s safer to leave it ajar.”

Lia immediately reached for the handle and pushed with all her strength. It wouldn’t budge.

Sarah pushed with her.

Nothing.

“Please don’t tell me we are trapped in here.” Lia’s breathing immediately shallowed.

Sarah glanced at her. “Stay calm.”

“I’m claustrophobic.”

“It’s not exactly a small space.” Sarah continued to push on the door as Lia started to pace.

“Still, it’s a creepy-ass cellar. And I’m trapped inside.” She clutched her chest above the white silk blouse tucked into a thin, knee-length black pencil skirt. “Air. I need air.”

“Don’t panic,” Sarah said. “You have your phone on you—call someone to come down and yank the door open from the outside.” Her own phone was in her bedroom charging.

“Right. My phone.” Retrieving it from the pocket of her skirt, she scrolled through the contact list.

“Come on, Lia—just pick someone. Almost everyone you know is upstairs.”

“I’ll try Wes,” she said, hitting Dial.

Sarah’s cheeks flushed again at the mention.

Lia eyed her with amusement, her panic momentarily forgotten. “So, Marissa said you two have been joined at the hip lately.”