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“More than I care to admit.”
“Then I’m going to trust you to handle this. I don’t want to see the video. I just want to know the name once you have it.”
Celia’s faith in me soothed some of my fury, while also making me feel even more protective of her. “You’ll have it right after I do.”
“Even if…” She trailed off, unable to say what I was already thinking.
“Yes, no matter who it is. I won’t hide anything from you,” I promised.
“I can live with that.” She tugged on my wrist. “But my patience is going to require cookies. Lots of them. Come be my taste tester.”
There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in her as she led me into the kitchen, told me to sit on the stool at the end of the counter, and fed me cookies until my belt felt too tight. Even in this dark hour, her light shone through. And I wasn’t going to let anyone dim it. No matter who they were.
24
CELIA
Istood at the counter with a bowl of batter I did not need. I’d baked more cookies than everyone in the entire row of townhouses could eat. Now I was moving onto cakes. But it felt too quiet whenever I stopped.
Julian sat at the small table with his laptop open, the screen angled away from me. Neither of us had mentioned the video since last night, but I felt it in the room with us. But if the person who did this had been hoping to tear us apart, their strategy went horribly wrong.
I was only upright because he never hesitated. He only watched enough to confirm it was fake. And he’d been telling the truth when he said he would’ve bought the video if it had been real so nobody else would have any copies out there.
Julian had stumbled a little under extreme circumstances, but not this time. He was proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that I could trust him, handling the entire situation while I marathon cooked to keep calm.
My hands moved because it was the only way they stopped shaking. I cracked an egg, and the shell stuck to my thumb. I wiped it on a towel and kept going. The mixer was loud enough to cover the sound of Julian typing. When it stopped, the batter was smooth. I scraped the sides of the bowl, poured it into the pan, and set the timer for thirty minutes.
We hadn’t left my townhouse since he showed up almost twenty-four hours ago. I hadn’t gone online or called anyone. Not even Megan.
Around three, my phone rang for the first time. I was filled with dread as I padded across the room to glance at the screen. “It’s just Trevor. One of my clients. His team is away this weekend, so he’s probably checking in to make sure I’ll be at his house tomorrow to do meal prep so he has food waiting in the fridge when the team lands at LAX.”
“You don’t need to run your calls past me, baby.”
“Sorry.” I ducked my head as my cheeks filled with heat. “I’m jumpier than I realized.”
“You don’t have anything to worry about.”
I took a deep breath and called Trevor back. “Hey, sorry I didn’t get to my phone fast enough.”
“No worries. I’m headed to Miami for an away game tomorrow, but I need you to double my portions on the meal prep.”
“Double?” I already made him a ridiculous number of calories per day.
“Or maybe do the second batch as halves since she won’t eat nearly as much as me.”
“Sure thing.” I had to press my lips together to stop myself from asking about the woman I’d be cooking for.
I only had more questions when he added, “And don’t tell anyone. I can’t have it getting out that she’s staying with me.”
“My lips are sealed.” And this wasn’t even the juiciest secret I was keeping. That was my deepfake sex tape.
“Thanks.”
He hung up, and I updated my shopping list for tomorrow, debating if I should just use a grocery delivery service. I didn’t want to get paranoid and wonder if the person who was trying to ruin me was following me too.
Just as my thoughts started to spiral, the doorbell rang. My hand froze on the oven handle. Julian was already up, striding through my home to open the door before I could decide whether to answer it.
Megan stood on the step with a grocery bag in one arm and the look of a woman who was ready to kick someone’s butt.
