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“Lovely. Is that all?”
“You canceled the fundraiser dinner.”
“I sent a check. Now, unless you’re my keeper, you can leave.”
My phone vibrates in my hand.
Fay Evans: Got it. *insert smiley face*
I shove my phone into my back pocket, feeling somewhat at ease.
“You’re seeing someone. I can tell. Daddy’s going to find out, and he won’t be happy.”
I turn my back on her and head to the kitchen, searching for my drink. “Goodnight, Alana.”
“You can’t just ignore me.”
“Watch me.”
“You know what? You cannot talk to me like this. I deserve to be treated with some respect.”
I slam my glass down on the island. “You want to be treated with respect?” She puffs out her chest and nods. “Then get the hell out of my life. Go find a man willing to put up with your lies and deceit. Because that man is not me anymore. So, yeah. If you want to keep up with this bullshit, then this is what you’ll get. Do you really think if we get married, you’ll get your happy ever after?”
The fucked-up part is that the way she looks back at me tells me it’s exactly what she thinks. I walk until I’m mere inches away from her. “Hear me and know this. You will never get a sliver of affection from me. I can barely stand being in your presence. If this blackmail plan goes through, which I’m fighting to make sure doesn’t, I will ship you off to the other end of the world so I never have to see you again.”
“What do you mean you’re trying to fight it? You. . . you can’t do that.”
“Watch me.” My anger clouds my senses, and I realize I’ve said too much.
She flings her hair over her shoulder. “I don’t know what’s come over you lately, but this isn’t you.”
I’ve had enough of everybody thinking they know what’s best for me, what I should be doing, and what I must sacrifice for myfamily. I eat up the remaining space between us, and she steps back. Smart girl. “I’m done playing your little games. Your father’s. Mine. You’ve strung me along for this long, but I’m done with your games.”
I need to shut up. Revealing my cards too early will only hurt me, but I can’t. “Get the fuck out of my penthouse. If I’m lucky, I’ll never have to see your face again.” I’ve backed her up far enough that all I have to do is open my door and push her out. The second I slam the door, I feel so exhilarated I almost shout out in celebration.
Then reality sets in. What have I done? I’ve been here with Alana before—her jealous rants and backlash. It’s only a matter of time before my father gets wind of this. Any sliver of relief disappears. “Fuck.” I grab my hair. “Fuck!”
I reach for my phone and hit redial on my last contact. “It’s me. I need to move things up. I don’t have much time. It’s now, or I lose everything.” He tells me he’ll have what I need in the next few days, which seems like a lifetime. I don’t think I’ll have that long if Alana is on the rampage.
Fay
The faint knock stirs me awake. I sit up and look around. Shoot, I must have fallen asleep on the couch. Another knock. My door. I get up and walk over to look through my peephole. Then I check the time.
What the heck? I twist the lock and open the door. “It’s late—”
“I know. I’m sorry. Can I come in?”
“Sure.” I open the door and move aside. He walks in, scanning my apartment and taking in my place. “Sorry, it’s not the penthouse suite.”
His jaw tightens, and he snakes his arm around my waist. “I don’t give a fuck where you live.” He walks me backward, and I can smell the booze on him this close.
“Well, you should. It’s not fancy like your place.”
“Fay.”
“My coffee maker is from historical times. It only has one working setting.”
“Knock it off.”
