Free Plain Return (The Plain Fame Series Book 4) by Sarah Price

exited the elevator and proceeded toward the main entrance to their condominium, she felt the tears begin to fall. Once inside, she ran up the stairs and headed for the bedroom, ashamed by her reaction to all that had happened. She flung herself across the bed, knowing that she needed to let it out and just cry. No one was home besides Señora Perez and maybe Rodriego. They wouldn’t disturb her even if they overheard her sobs.
    She must have fallen asleep because she awoke to the noise of the light switch clicking in the bathroom. As her eyes fluttered open, she realized that the sun had already set. She sat up and rubbed at her eyes, feeling groggy and fuzzy headed. “Alejandro?” she called out. She knew it must be him for she heard the water running in the sink. She slid off the bed and quietly tiptoed across the carpet to the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar. “Alejandro?” she asked again as she pressed her fingers against the door handle.
    He stood at the sink, splashing water on his face. When he saw her in the reflection of the mirror, he turned off the water and grabbed a towel. “Princesa,” he said, his eyes watching her as he dried his face. “You were asleep. Did I wake you?”
    She shook her head, sections of hair coming loose from her bun. She must have lost her pins while she slept, for strands of her hair hung down her shoulders and brushed against her face. Pushing it back from her cheeks, she let her hand linger on the back of her neck. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
    “For what, Princesa?” He dropped the towel into the sink and turned to face her, leaning his hip against the edge of the marble vanity. The corner of his mouth lifted into a smile as he reached out his hand for hers. When she took it, he pulled her into the room and against his chest. “Ah, Princesa,” he sighed, burrowing his face into her hair. “I have missed you these past few days.”
    His confession almost made her cry once again, but she didn’t think she had any tears left.
    He kissed the side of her head, still holding her tight in his arms. “Such a life for you, no? There is much to learn.”
    She wanted to learn, but she did not know what understanding she was missing. She still didn’t see why she shouldn’t have taken photos with the fans. Nor did she understand what Dali had meant about her being a brand . Even Alejandro had said that there was a price for photos. Price? What price? And for . . . a photo? She didn’t understand what they were talking about, and the confusion weighed heavily on her. She wanted to do the right thing. But if she didn’t know what the right thing was, how was it possible for her to do it? She wanted to ask him for an explanation, some clarification that would help her avoid making inadvertent mistakes that would upset others. But navigating his world was becoming increasingly difficult, especially now that they had returned to Miami.
    And that was one more thing that bothered her. Miami was supposed to be their home. She wanted to create a routine for Alejandro, but every day presented nothing but irregular schedules. The only constant thing in their lives was change.
    As if reading her mind, he pulled away and held her at arm’s length, keeping his hands on her shoulders and massaging them gently. “How was the rest of the day? Good?”
    Amanda stood there, mute, staring at him. How could she possibly tell him the truth? That she abhorred Jeremy’s dresses with their mesh fabric sides and low-cut necklines and how Stedman was trying to make her do things that she simply didn’t want to do? The thought of telling Alejandro what she truly felt caused her to do the one thing she didn’t want to do: burst into tears. Horrified, she covered her face with her hands and sobbed.
    With his hands still on her shoulders, he leaned down and peered into her face. “What is this, Princesa? Tears? Not from my Amanda,” he said in a soothing voice. She thought she heard him