Two Week Turnaround by Geneva Lee Page B

the breakup before, and it had never really got any easier. Not until she’d walked back into his hotel room.
    If this was a script that would be a turning point, and now it was time for him to make a decision. Take action or wait around. Fia was probably already on a plane to LAX. She already felt a thousand miles away. But what if she wasn’t?
    Isaac grabbed the bottle and carried it over to the sink. Dumping it down the drain made him feel a whole lot more courageous than drinking it. As the amber liquid swirled down the pipes, he knew exactly what this story called for. It was time for him to win back the girl at any cost—and he was just the man for the part.

Chapter Ten
    Sofia carted her suitcase to the door. The porter would be there momentarily to carry it to the car waiting out front to take her to Heathrow. No private jet this time. A seat in first class cost a lot less than being indebted to her father. She walked through the empty hotel room, checking for missed items. It was pointless. She’d barely spent any time here. Most of her belongings had stayed in her suitcase. She’d left more than a few items in Isaac’s penthouse, but they’d already been written off as collateral damage.
    The porter knocked on the door and she practically ran to open it. She needed out of rainy London, which was as shrouded in fog as her head. Clear skies, blue water and white sand would fix her up.
    â€œIs this all, madame?” the kid asked. His uniform hung off his bony frame. Sofia wasn’t sure he could handle her bag, but she kept this to herself and nodded.
    â€œMy driver is waiting at the curb,” she began, but she was cut off by the arrival of the elevator. Its doors slid open, revealing a drenched Isaac Blue. He clearly hadn’t changed out of today’s wardrobe. His artfully ripped and ruined shirt clung to his equally ripped upper body, and his jeans hung low on his hips, revealing the beginning of the chiseled V that continued past his waistline.
    Sofia’s breath caught and momentarily she forgot every word she knew. When he’d let her leave last night, she’d assumed that was it. Isaac had got her into bed and split as soon as the truth hit the fan. The fact that he was standing before her now, dripping wet, when he was supposed to be on set, suggested otherwise.
    Ten minutes later and she would have been on her way to the airport. Where was a time machine when she needed one?
    â€œTake this and hold the elevator,” she ordered the porter when she finally found her voice. “I’ll be right behind you.” She had to shove the bag into his hands because he was too busy rubbernecking Isaac.
    â€œIs that...” The young man’s voice broke, betraying his youth. The sudden embarrassment snapped him back to reality and he scrambled to get the luggage to the elevator, obediently holding the door for Sofia to follow.
    â€œFia,” Isaac pleaded with her as she strode by.
    He caught her arm and she wrenched away. “It’s too late. It’s six years too late.”
    â€œIt doesn’t have to be,” he growled.
    There was possessiveness in his voice that sent a quiver through her, but she ignored it. Isaac’s dominant side had an effect on her, but then again so did drinking too much or accidentally mixing prescriptions. Side effects were rarely a good thing.
    â€œActually—” she stepped into the elevator and pressed the lobby button “—it does.”
    If the porter hadn’t been behind her, she might have cried. Maybe. In truth, she felt numb, but she wasn’t certain if it was because of Isaac showing up or the fact that she’d walked away from him.
    Snap out of it.
Her room was only on the second floor, which meant he could easily follow her. A simple exit strategy would be best. She’d planned to stop at the front desk and settle her bill. She could do that over the phone. All she had to