Vanessa turned back to Ginger. “It just feels like…” She frowned. “I just don’t want to see him hurt. Out of all of us, he’s the most sensitive one.”

“I know, Vanessa. I’ve been with him since high school.” And they’d shared so much, most of it stuff that not even their families were aware of. “I don’t want to hurt him either.”

Iain reappeared. “Uh… Shane doesn’t seem to be around.”

“Where could he have gone?” Ceinlys said, pulling out her phone.

“I got it.” Mark already had his ringing. He waited a few beats and said, “He’s not answering.”

“Did he get lost or something?”

Their waiter came in, carrying a gorgeous liquor case with care. “The Macallan Sixty Year Old Single Malt Scotch Whiskey in Lalique for Mr. Shane Pryce, compliments of Mr. Dane Pryce,” he announced.

Mark raised an eyebrow. “Dane is here?”

“I don’t believe so, sir. This came via special courier.”

“Where could Shane have gone then?” Ceinlys mused out loud.

“Maybe he’s in the bathroom or something. Let’s wait a bit.” Mark signaled the waiter, gave some low instructions, and more drinks were served.

Half an hour later, it was obvious Shane wasn’t coming back. Their waiter whispered something to Mark, who winced. “You sure you looked everywhere?”

“Positive,” the waiter replied, his voice low.

Ginger forced her rubbery cheeks to move so she could fake a smile as everyone’s eyes zeroed in on her. They weren’t blatant, but pity and discomfiture showed in the way they frowned and quickly averted their gazes.

“We can give you a ride,” Justin volunteered at the same time Iain said, “We’ll give you a ride home.”

“Just tell us where you live, and whoever’s closest can drop you off,” Hilary added.

“Thank you. But I can call a cab. It’s no big deal.” Ginger picked up her wine and took a long, deep swallow. The pricey alcohol did very little to blunt her humiliation. If only she could wave a wand and make herself disappear!

Thankfully the dinner ended soon after, and she climbed into a taxi before anybody could stop her.

“Go. Please,” Ginger said to the driver. She could hear Vanessa calling to her in the background, asking her to wait.

He started to pull away. “Where to?”

She hesitated, then gave him directions to Debbie’s condo. She didn’t want to be alone right now.

* * *

Shane ended up wandering into a hotel several blocks away from Éternité. He got himself a suite and a bottle of good scotch.

The amber liquor soothed his raw throat. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head against the back of the armchair. It was too bad he didn’t have a really good vice to fall back on when he felt like shit. Even without his memory, he was certain he would’ve indulged out of habit, just like the way he’d known exactly what do with his cameras.

He wished he could tell Dane he was a lying sack of shit, but Vanessa… No, she wouldn’t have lied. She was in the Family group, and there hadn’t been any notes about her being a bitch. Furthermore, she seemed like a very straight-from-the-hip type of woman who wouldn’t feel the need to lie. If she didn’t like someone, she’d just say so.

Pour the scotch into a glass. Drink. Pour another. Drink…

Shane scowled. It was stupidly inefficient.

He took the bottle directly to his lips. Maybe he shouldn’t hold Ginger dating some other guy against her. She’d thought she wasn’t engaged anymore. He’d dated too, and he refused to be a hypocrite…even if he wanted to be when it came to this particular point.

But hadn’t she had a chance to tell him about the other man? She shouldn’t have done what she did with Shane if she was seeing somebody.

Maybe she couldn’t resist you. You were just too good compared to her current boyfriend.

Shane pressed the heel of his palm against his eyebrow. Wishful thinking.

His parents didn’t sleep around because other people were better in bed. They did it because it was who they were. He took a big swallow of the scotch. Wasn’t there a saying about men marrying their mother?

He lay down on the bed with the bottle. Thinking… He shook his head. Who the hell had decided thinking was a good thing? He didn’t want to think. He just wanted to sleep. And go back to the moment in the hospital when he’d just woken up, this time without his ID. And be a John Doe nobody could find.

* * *

“You don’t have to look so glum,” Shane said.

“The word you’re looking for is grim,” Dane said, nursing his scotch.

“Aren’t you going to congratulate me?”

“For what reason?”

Shane shook his head. “Didn’t you hear me? Ginger and I got engaged.”

“That warrants my deepest and sincerest condolences.”

“You know what? You’re just an asshole. I’m actually going to make a contact group called Asshole and put you in there. Only you.” Shane pulled out his phone and carried out his threat. His brother deserved it.

A faint smile flitted over Dane’s cool face. “You think it’s going to be different?”

He didn’t have to clarify. “Hell yeah. What Ginger and I have is nothing like mom and dad’s relationship.”

“They weren’t always like this. At one point, they were in love.”

Shane wrinkled his nose. His brother was awfully talkative that evening. Must be the liquor. “What do you know about love that doesn’t involve scotch?”

“More than you, little pup. They were in love…or very good at faking it. It’s too bad they stopped making the effort around the time you were born.” Dane’s eyebrows pinched briefly. “You could’ve had a better toddlerhood, if nothing else.”

Shane laughed, uncomfortable with the conversation. It was too deep and emotional for his brother. “Jeez, man. How much have you drunk?”

“I’m perfectly fine. This is only my fourth for the evening.” Dane downed it in one violent motion. “Just don’t expect what you have with Ginger to be like this forever. If you promise me you can do that, I’ll congratulate you.”

Something buzzing and vibrating woke him up. Shane shook his head, scrunching his eyes. What the hell was that? It was barely—he glanced at the clock by the bed. Three thirty-six?

The noise and movement stopped, then continued again. He then saw his phone screen light up on the bedside table. He didn’t recognize the number, but then he didn’t recognize any phone number these days. He picked it up. Must be pretty important to be calling at this hour.

“Yeah?” he rasped.

“You scumbag, bottom-feeding asshole!” a woman screeched.

He jerked the phone away from his ear. Then he brought it back and said, “Wrong number. Not your cheating boyfriend.”

Just as he was about to hang up, he heard, “Shane Lawrence Arthur Pryce, don’t even think about it!”

Okay. So maybe she had the right number. “Who are you?”

“Debbie Chang. Ginger’s BFF. The one who cares about and protects her from jerks like you.”

The name didn’t ring a bell. She probably wasn’t even that close to Ginger. He couldn’t imagine somebody as sweet as Ginger being friends with this harpy. “Why are you calling?”

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to Ginger? You threw her to the piranhas and disappeared!”

“Piranhas? You mean my family?”

“Oh my god, are you saying you didn’t know what you did? Ginger took a taxi to my place because she had no ride, nothing! And while you were gone, your family, especially your sister, insulted Ginger. And you can’t fool me. I don’t even believe you forgot everything. It’s too convenient, and it’s not like you suffered, not the way she did.”