Page 84 of Heartbreaker

It all sounds a bit idealistic to me, and I don’t quite understand why we can’t just bring everything to the cops and let them deal with it, but Demi and Lana are confident it will work, and I trust them.

“Deal,” Lana whispers, a soft smile on her lips. “You know, you’re being a real trooper about all of this.” Her hand rests softly on my cheek, and I lean into it just a bit, closing my eyes and taking in a breath.

“To be fair, all of this is to keep me safe, so there’s that. But really, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I tried to tell you what you can and can’t do?” Her face goes contemplative for a moment before she smiles, as if she just came to terms with something unexpected. “Did you expect me to argue this?” She hesitates but eventually shakes her head.

“No. I don’t know. Maybe? You’re very protective of me, and I’m basically going to flirt with your enemy and the man who’s been trying to hurt you for months now.” I shift up so we’re both on our sides, facing one another, and I tip her chin to ensure she’s looking at me.

“Do I love the idea of pretending to break up with you? No way. Do I love the idea of you spending time with that asshole, especially considering what he’s had a hand in? Absolutely not. But I will never tell you what you can and can’t do with your life, Lana. You’re Lana—my fierce, self-assured, badass girlfriend. You wouldn’t be you if you were okay with me bossing you around.” She lifts an eyebrow, and I grin wide. “Outside of the bedroom, at least.” She returns it, then leans in to press her lips to mine.

“I told you I’d take care of all the versions of you, Lana. The badass, the little girl, the racer, the soft, emotional one. This one is the Maven, who doesn’t need much protection at all. So instead, I’m just going to sit back and watch in utter awe of you. An easy task, if you ask me.” She smiles, then shakes her head in disbelief.

“I think you’ve officially graduated from boyfriend school,” she hums with a smile.

“Well, good. I only plan to do it once.”

FORTY

My hair is big.

My dress is tight.

My heels are high.

I’ve got Demi in my ear and a laundry list of safety measures in place, but still, I’ve never felt worse about an assignment than I do as I walk through the door of the far-too-fancy restaurant.

“Sit at the furthest bar seat from the entrance,” Demi reminds me. Yesterday, when we scoped the place out, we determined that one had the best vantage point, both to see and be seen. Instead of speaking, I walk toward the seat and settle in, smiling at the bartender and ordering a seltzer in a cocktail glass. She smiles kindly, then goes off to make my bed as I take in long, deep breaths, trying to seem casual and to slow my heart down a bit.

A minute later, Tyler texts that he will be meeting Levi here in about ten minutes, and my stomach lurches once more, despite everything working according to plan. When they arrive, Tyler will point me out as Rome’s now-ex, and then conveniently leave to take a call. The hope is that Levi will come over on his own, unable to resist the opportunity to rub salt in Rome’s wound. Otherwise, I’ll be making my way over to him and flirting my ass off.

My mission is to convince him to let me add my number to his phone, at which point I will enable Airdrop for Demi, who will work her magic to fully access his phone and any related cloud accounts.

Easy peasy.

Except every time I think about it, my stomach aches, the nauseous feeling almost inescapable.

The truth is, I’m terribly unqualified for this. While I might be the Chameleon, able to become anyone I want, I never did nail being able to be hot and flirty and a sex kitten the way Josie has.

It probably doesn’t help that Rome and I have been separated for three days, and Phil is insisting that I not get into a truck until a full week has passed since the crash, something I didn’t bother to tell him was terribly misogynistic, since I know he set no such precedent for Rome. So I’ve had nothing but time to sit and think about all the ways I could fuck this up and had absolutely nothing to distract me.

It also doesn’t help that my inbox has been flooded since the announcement of our “breakup.” I had to hand my phone over to Demi to monitor and reply to emails and DMs as needed.

When we made the plan, I thought I would be completely fine, able to do this just this one time, even if it’s so far out of my wheelhouse. But as I sit at the bar, my hands clammy and heart pounding, I worry that I might not be able to.

All these thoughts spiral through my mind as my breathing becomes tighter, and abruptly I stand, giving the bartender a wave. “Can you watch my seat for me? I need to use the ladies’ room.” She winks and nods, and without another word, I move toward the back of the restaurant, probably a bit faster than would be natural, but I don’t have the presence of mind for that.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I say under my breath, but when Demi’s voice enters my ear from the unseen earpiece, I know she heard me.

“What do you mean?” I enter the bathroom, lock the door behind me, and rest against it, running my hand through my hair.

“I mean, I don’t know if I can do this!” I grit, sounding thoroughly panicked even to my own ears. “I am not this person!”

“Yes, you can, Lana,” Demi says. “And yes, you are. You’re Lana. The Chameleon. You can do anything, be anything.”

“I’m the Chameleon, not the Maneater! I’m going to fail, and he’s going to know we’re onto him. We need a backup. We need—” There’s a knock on the door, and I open my mouth to tell the intruder that it’s occupied before a voice filters through.

“Let me in, heartbreaker.”

Rome.