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Again, not answering his question. “Because I know you. Do you or do you not have cancer?”

“I do,” she finally replied, though she dropped her head to avoid meeting his eyes. “I’ll be starting treatment soon.”

“What treatment? Chemo? Radiation?”

“Yes. Both of those.” She sighed heavily. “Instead of focusing on me, don’t you want to know the name of the man who grew up with the life that should have been yours?”

Right for the jugular. She was a real piece of work, that Micheline. “You already told me. A Colton.”

“There are a lot of Coltons all over the country,” she countered.

“Sure.” All he wanted now was to get her out of his room. “Who is it?”

“Ace Colton.” Triumph rang in her voice. “He’s one of the most valuable members of that powerful family.”

Valuable. Odd choice of words. But sadly appropriate, since she always made sure Jake knew his existence held no value for her.

Be Your Best You. Her catchy little meaningless phrase flashed into his mind.

A flash of rage went through him, so strong he had to clench his hands into fists. He wanted to lash out, to tell her what he thought of her, and on top of that, how he felt about this, the ultimate betrayal.

Instead, he did none of those things. Partly because he suspected she wouldn’t care and partly because he really wanted to know what she planned to do now.

Swallowing, he looked down at his feet, taking deep breaths and stuffing his anger back deep inside. When he felt he could speak normally, he raised his head to find her watching him, her expression both gleeful and yet somehow full of pseudo-concern. Even here, alone with him, she still felt the need to continue to play a role.

“Why tell me this now?” he asked.

“I’m dying,” she replied, injecting a note of pathos into her tone. “And I’m trying to right the wrongs of my past.”

Coming from anyone else, anyone but her, he might have believed that. After all, that was exactly the kind of thing a rational, caring human being might do in their final months or years of life. But this was Micheline. He might have been gone from her life for the last twenty-three years, but he knew damn well she hadn’t changed. Not one bit.

“The truth, Micheline,” he prompted, letting some of his exhaustion show. “What’s your angle?”

At that, she drew herself up. “I don’t have an angle, as you so charmingly put it. I run one of the largest self-help organizations in Arizona. People look up to me, and I help them. I help them, Jake. Not hurt them. Because of me, thousands of people are becoming their best selves.”

Ugh. If he heard that tired old phrase one more time.

“Are you afraid the baby-switch story will get out?” he asked, watching her closely. “If your followers learned what you did, maybe they wouldn’t follow you.”

That made her laugh. And laugh. So long and so hard tears streamed down her cheeks. Finally, she got herself together, grabbing a tissue off his dresser and dabbing at her face. “Not likely,” she managed.

Since he didn’t have a response for that, he simply jerked his chin in a reasonable facsimile of a nod. About to tell her to get out, he closed his mouth when she spun around on her expensive high-heeled shoes and strode to the door. “Take care, Jake.” She fluttered her fingers. “I’m sure we’ll talk again. I’m guessing you’re sticking around awhile, since you and Fiona appear to have a thing going on.”

“Maybe,” he allowed. “But if I do decide to leave, I’ll make sure and have one of your minions inform you.”

“Minions!” She tittered, though her eyes remained hard. “How quaint. And really, you should give it a few more days. Things are just about to get really interesting around here. And you might be able to play a big part in it.”

And then she left, shutting him in his room with a decisive click of the door.

He wanted to throw something, break something, toss back a shot or two of whiskey. Instead, he thought of Fiona, with her lush body and huge brown eyes. Though she too had lied to him, she’d had good reason. She had a mission, a task, and if there was anything he could do to help her accomplish it, he would. He wanted to dedicate his life to bringing Micheline down. Helping Fiona, who seemed as different from Micheline as night from day, would help expunge some of his bitterness and maybe even help him heal.

Things were about to get interesting around here, Micheline had said. Which meant Fiona was right—the cult leader had something planned, though he didn’t know what, only that it appeared to involve him. And maybe even the Coltons.

Too drained to do anything but stay in his room, Jake tried to call Fiona, but she didn’t pick up. He wondered if she’d been summoned by Micheline. Still, she was the last thing he thought of before he drifted off to sleep.

Ace Colton called right after breakfast the next morning. “The family would love to meet you,” he said. “Payne was just released from the hospital. He’s a bit weak, but he’s eager to get to know you. Would you be available to come by the house for dinner tonight?”

“I’d love that,” Jake replied.

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