“I got the ring,” he says, as if that answers my question.

I hurry past him. “Come with me.” When we get to reception, I keep my head down and hurry out of the front entrance. We’ve been told we’re not allowed to use this entrance once the Club has opened. But right now, it’s my quickest route to get Frank the hell out of here. Not to mention, I need some air.

I lead him around to the side of the main building, toward the pathway that leads to staff housing. There are strictly no visitors allowed. The security risks have been drilled into us. Thankfully, the shuttle bus that takes staff to and from town pulls up in front of the staff block as we arrive.

“Come on,” I say to Frank. “Let’s get on this bus and head into town.”

We let passengers get off. I get a few odd looks, but I just smile like everything is peachy, and try not to let it show that I’m in the middle of a mild panic attack because my ex-fiancé has turned up on my doorstep after I jilted him at the altar.

I usher Frank onto the bus and take a seat toward the back so the driver can’t hear us.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. “How did you even get up here?”

“On this bus. I think they thought I’d come for an interview.” He chuckles. “It’s a nice place. Maybe I should get a job here.”

I roll my eyes. Frank has his own successful business back in Oregon. He’s not about to come and work at the Colorado Club. I just want a straight answer from him.

“I’m glad you got the ring,” I say, trying to get him back on topic. “And I’m really sorry about everything that happened. I should have—” I don’t want to hurt his feelings, so I don’t tell him I should never have accepted his proposal. “I should have spoken to you rather than just running off.”

His face darkens. “Yeah. It was a shock. I thought we were happy.”

I sigh. I never gave him any reason to doubt me. “I’m very sorry. You’re a really great guy.”

He pulls in a breath. “Yeah, your mom said she thought you’d realize you’d made a mistake. She said you’d be too prideful to come back.” He searches my face, waiting for me to confirm what my mom has said—what he’s clearly hoping is true.

I glance at the bus driver. I really don’t want to be having this conversation here. Or anywhere, ever. But I owe it to Frank. “I’m sorry, Frank. I regret hurting you. I really do. You’ve been nothing but kind to me. But I don’t regret my decision.”