Comfort Paige

You let out a long breath, looking over at Paige. The poor girl, who just seconds ago liked so strong and brave, has retreated back to her small quiet stature. Jax is gone in an ambulance, Skylar has stormed out and left the resort, and Paige is left holding the pieces of a ruined job and a shattered weekend.

You walk over to her, putting your arm around her and lead her back into the main living area. You sit her down in a chair near the fire and gently pull up another chair across from her.

“Hey,” you say softly, your voice grounded and calm. “Look at me, Paige.”

She slowly raises her large hazel eyes to yours, their usual hyper-vigilant panic replaced by a deep, hollow exhaustion.

“You did the right thing,” you tell her firmly, wanting the words to anchor her. “Standing up to Skylar, refusing to let her rip people off or treat you like a servant anymore…that took serious guts. You have absolutely nothing to feel bad about. You handled yourself with grace through a total nightmare.”

Paige’s lips tremble slightly, a small, fragile breath escaping her as she absorbs your words. “I just... I don’t even know what I’m going to do now,” she mumbles, her voice cracking. “My job, the equipment... it’s all tied to them.”

“Right now, you don’t have to figure any of that out,” you say warmly, offering her a reassuring smile. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re staying right here for the rest of the weekend, completely free of charge. No cameras, no demands, no one yelling at you. This cabin is yours to just relax, eat some real food, and actually breathe.”

Paige blinks rapidly, a bright, emotional flush warming her cheeks as her jaw drops slightly. “Mark... I can’t ask you to do that. This place is so expensive.”

“I’m not asking,” you cut in gently, your tone dripping with easygoing charm. “Consider it resort policy for surviving an absolute disaster. And when Sunday comes around and you’re ready to head back, I’ll personally give you a ride back into the city myself. We’ll load up all this heavy gear into the truck, and you won’t have to lift a finger. Deal?”

A sudden, breathtaking smile breaks through Paige’s tears, a deep dimple appearing in her cheek as she finally lets out a genuine, relieved laugh.

“Deal,” she whispers, her hazel eyes locked onto yours with a quiet, fierce gratitude that warms the entire room. “Thank you, Mark. Seriously. Thank you.”

Lauren looking out the window sees Skylar finish loading her luggage and speeding out the resort exit back towards the city.

“Let’s take you back to your cabin so you can get cleaned up.” Lauren interjects.

You all get up and guide Paige along the gravel path, away from your private cabin towards the guest cabin. Her small shoulders are hunched, shivering slightly with the blanket still draped over her shoulders. You can’t help but steal glances down at her. She has the unmistakable look of a girl who has been trapped under the thumbs of toxic narcissists for far too long, suddenly tasting a kind of freedom.

“Don’t worry, Paige,” you say, your voice a low, soothing rumble that instantly draws her hazel eyes up to yours. “We’ll get you cleaned up, fed, and figured out. You’re safe now.”

“Thank you, Mark,” she murmurs, her voice small but heavy with genuine relief. “I just... I can’t believe Skylar just drove off and left me. After everything I’ve done for her brand.”

“Her loss,” you reply smoothly, stepping up to the porch of the guest cabin. You press your hand against the door, throwing it open, expecting the usual pristine luxury of your resort.

Instead, you step into absolute carnage.

“What the fuck...?” the curse slips past your lips before you can stop it.

The cabin is completely fucking trashed. It’s clear that before Skylar stormed out, she went on a scorched-earth rampage of pure, unadulterated malice. Upside-down furniture, shattered lamps, and shredded clothing litter the hardwood floor. But the real masterpiece of her meltdown is in the bedroom. You and Paige step over the debris to find the massive, king-sized mattress completely butchered, viciously slashed to ribbons with stuffing bleeding out like a crime scene.

Paige gasps, her hands flying to her mouth, her hazel eyes wide with horror. “Oh my god. Mark, I am so, so sorry. She... she is a monster, when she doesn’t get her way, but I’ve never seen her this bad.”

You feel a slow, primal grin spread across your face. As the owner, you should be furious, but your quietly charismatic nature takes over, not wanting to upset Paige even more. You step closer to her, your broad shoulders casting a protective shadow over her petite frame.

“Hey, look at me,” you instruct softly, waiting until she meets your gaze. “Do not worry about a single piece of this. I am going to charge every single cent of these damages directly to Jaxson’s platinum card. By the time I’m done adding the ’emotional distress’ fee, his bank account is going to bleed.”

Paige blinks, the horror on her face suddenly melting away. A breathless, melodic giggle escapes her lips, a sound that makes something stir deep in your chest. “Oh, please do. He deserves to pay for a lot more than just a mattress.”

“Oh, he will,” you chuckle.

Lauren steps forward, her voice radiating maternal warmth laced with a newfound sense of adventure. “Well, we certainly can’t have you staying in this wreck, Paige.”

Lauren looks at you with a soft warmth in her eyes, before turning back to the **** young videographer. “We have a beautiful guest room right inside our private cabin. It’s warm, it’s quiet, and it has its own luxury bath. You are staying with us, Paige. No arguments.”

Paige’s jaw drops slightly, looking between you and your wife. “Are... are you sure? I don’t want to intrude on your privacy.”

You step in, your voice dripping with an inviting, masculine warmth that leaves no room for refusal. “We insist, Paige. Let’s get you out of this dump and into our space.”