I look down, but out of the corner of my eye, I catch the very evident flex of Coach’s jaw.

“Babe, can you come with me for a minute?”

Parker’s got an arm wrapped around my waist, but it still takes a second for me to realize who she’s talking to.

Well, god damn. It’s me. I’m the babe.

Every single pair of eyes follow us out of the room, no gaze stronger than Coach’s.

“Where are we going?” I ask as we leave the grand room hosting the reception.

“Where we can talk.”

I scan the lobby we walk through, the portraits on the walls whizzing by. “Is there any place here we can actually talk without people listening?” My eyes land on an agent standing at the far end of the room. “I guess not.”

Parker stops. “Excuse me.”

My eyebrows fuse together because I haven’t got a clue why Parker needs excusing from a man standing against a wall. That is, until he steps to the side and pushes it open and Parker drags me into a hallway where there’s another agent standing against a metal door. Immediately, he puts his fingers to the keypad, and it slides open.

“This way.”

The hallway is long and narrow. We bump into each other as we walk through, reaching another door and, of course, find another agent with access to another keypad. This hallway ends at a small sitting room where Parker drops my hand and turns the knob of a French door.

“Are you ever alone here?” I ask, catching up as Parker walks down a brick path.

She steps onto the perfectly manicured lawn flanked by shrubs. “This is as good as it gets. I don’t trust the Rose Garden. Or the Residences. I trust nothing here. I trust no one here.” Parker pauses, the mask she had been holding on to during the reception falls. “No one but you.”

Her voice is veiled in quiet relief.

“Are you alright?”

Parker nods, but I can tell it’s forced, like she’s trying to convince herself.

Maybe I jumped the gun saying yes and should’ve talked this out more, tried to convince her to stay away from her family.

I reach down and take her left hand. “Are you sure?”

I hadn’t had the chance to look at the way the ring sits on her finger. Red nails, white and blue stones. Very on brand.

“The jeweler said they call this style toi et moi.” I pause, gently touching the blue emerald-cut sapphire before moving over to the oval-shaped diamond it’s paired with. “It’s supposed to mean us against the world.”

Looking up from the ring, I find Parker staring.

“I didn’t realize Foller still coached you.”

My stomach sinks.

Parker sighs. “He hates me.”