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Chapter Twenty-Three
After driving aimlessly around L.A. for hours, Kris ended up at Marina del Rey.
As far as heartbreak havens went, it was the worst place she could’ve chosen. This was where she and Nate had sex for the first time. Well, where the boat where they’d had sex for the first time had departed from, anyway.
She hadn’t made the conscious decision to come here, but something about the water called to her like a homing beacon.
Kris curled up on a quiet stretch of boardwalk and watched the boats bob on the waves. They resembled life-sized toys.
She wondered vaguely if Nate’s friend’s boat was in its slip, and—
What? She was going to take a field trip over there and reminisce about her and Nate’s short-lived relationship? Play a cheesy mental montage of her favorite moments set to maudlin music like this was a 1990s Julia Roberts movie?
No, thanks.
To take her mind off Nate, Kris brain-jumped to the other male-centered shitshow in her life. Apparently, she was a glutton for punishment.
“I gave you a chance.” Roger’s face was cold with fury. “I’d hoped you would make more of an effort with Gloria, considering she’ll be your stepmother soon. Instead, you set out to destroy something you knew was important to me. How could you, Kris?”
Her contract with Nate waved in the air, flimsy but damning as hell.
Kris stared ahead in mutinous silence. Gloria’s lips had curved into a smug smirk behind Roger’s back, but Kris didn’t bother calling her out on it.
What was the point? The proverbial shit had already hit the fan.
“Well?” An undercurrent of hurt flashed before Roger’s anger swallowed it whole. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
She forced herself to breathe through her nose. She would not lose her cool. “I don’t regret it,” she said flatly. “Gloria is a gold-digging bitch. She would’ve cheated on you, you know. If you hadn’t arrived when you did, she would’ve met Nate at a hotel. She’d already agreed to it.”
“She’s lying!” Gloria’s voice rang with false indignation. “I wouldnevercheat on you, Roger. And did you hear what she just called me—”
“Quiet,” Roger thundered.
The Stepmonster shut up and glared at Kris, who ignored her—for now.
“Do you have any proof of your accusations?” Her father asked in the same icy tone he used to cut down his business opponents.
Kris didn’t, and they all knew it. If she had, she would’ve brought it to him already.
She lifted her chin in defiance. “You have your daughter’s word.”
Deafening silence.
“You gave me your word you would try this summer,” Roger finally said. “Instead, you got fired from your job, threw away $15,000 hiring an actor to break up my engagement, and entered into a relationship with said actor, who used to—” He paused. “Needless to say, your word isn’t worth much to me right now. From this moment forward, you’re cut off. Indefinitely. No credit cards, no access to your bank accounts. I’ll also be calling the lawyers tomorrow to adjust the terms of your trust fund. Clearly, you haven’t learned how to control your spending—to say nothing of your scheme to frame Gloria for infidelity.”
Moisture gathered in Kris’s eyes, but she would not, could not cry. Not here, in front of the gloating Stepmonster.
She didn’t bother trying to convince her father Gloria had been planning to cheat on him or how evil his fiancée was to her when he wasn’t looking. He wouldn’t believe her, anyway.
“Fine,” Kris said, steel masking the tremble in her voice. “You caught me. I hired someone to break you and Gloria up because I hate her. You can cut me off all you want, but I will never consider her part of this family.”
Disappointment settled into every groove of Roger’s face. “Then perhaps you shouldn’t be part of this family at all.”
Something warm and salty trickled down Kris’s cheek. She swiped it away with the back of her hand.
Her blowout with her father over the contract had been bad enough. Then she found out about dear old dad’s bribe. She’d snuck into his office while he and Gloria enjoyed the oh-so-harmonious sounds of the L.A. Philharmonic at the Hollywood Bowl last night, unsure what she was looking for but determined to find something that could bring Gloria down.
It was only fair; Gloria must’ve snooped around in Kris’s room while Kris was out and found the contract buried in an old Jimmy Choo shoebox in the closet. Kris had already searched her father and Gloria’s suite—no dice. Her father’s study was the next best bet.
