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“Give me my phone,” my mother shrieks.
Everyone in the diner is staring at us. Some even take out their phones.
This isn’t good. We’ve drawn far too much attention.
I jump up from the table and head toward the door.
“Traci? Are you there?” Amanda snaps. I hang up and quickly go into my mother’s photo app.
She’s got pictures of me with my arms around Rowan, standing outside the front of my building. That was stupid of me, and reckless.
My stomach turns as the words Amanda said come back to me. She likely has these in her possession.
I’ve just fucked Rowan’s career.
“Baby, wait,” my horrible mother cries from behind, grabbing at my elbow.
I twist around, staring down at the vile woman, who’s frantically trying to snatch the phone from my hand.
“How fucking could you.” My voice does not sound like my own. She looks frightened and she should be. I’m scaring myself too, in a way.
“You can’t speak to your mother that way.”
“No, but I can speak that way to a lying, thieving, bitch who’s ruined the lives of everyone she’s ever touched.” My voice is an inhuman growl. “No wonder you don’t need money.”
Other questions are crowding into my head. How long has this been going on? Who’s paying for her hotel? How did Amanda know to reach out to her? But I’m too angry to think rationally.
“Listen up. I will pay you fifty grand to get Amanda to agree to back the fuck off. And then if you ever come near me again, I will dedicate my life to making yours a living hell.”
She bursts into tears.
“No money, then,” I sneer, and I toss her phone to her. She stops crying immediately. “One hundred thousand,” she wheedles.
I bark a humorless laugh. “Fifty, or nothing.”
Her hands shake as she dials. I listen in as she tries to persuade Amanda to back off.
“There’s no way,” Amanda says. “Rowan’s going down.”
I feel as if a river of filth is flowing through my veins. I’ve brought this on Rowan. It’s my fault. Then again, what could anyone expect from me—given what I came from?
My mother just took me to the highest heights, and in minutes, dashed me down to the depths of despair and self-hatred. The worst part of it is that I knew what she was like—I’ve always known—and I’m a pathetic idiot for believing her for one microsecond.
There is so much anger, so much hate in me, that I don’t trust myself to talk to Rowan, or my father, or my sober coach, or anyone.
All I can do is try to protect Rowan from the fallout. This job is everything to her.
I grab the phone.
“Amanda, you freaking vile back-stabbing little skank,” I snap at her. “You’ve got two choices right now. I will demand they replace Rowan with you, but you can’t accompany me anywhere, and I don’t want to be in the same fucking room as you until our extravaganza. You will handle the campaign in name only. And you will agree not to release any information about me and Rowan. Or I will dedicate my life to fucking ruining yours, in really ugly ways, and trust me, you will never recover.”
“There’s no need to be like that.” Amanda sounds huffy.
“You haven’t seen how I’m capable of treating those that cross me.” I hang up the phone.
I turn to walk away.
“You owe me fifty grand,” my mother wails.
