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“He’s a friend.”
“This looks like more than friendship.” She smirks. In the photo, I sit on the ground at Matt’s feet, leaning against his leg while Blake sings nearby. My face looks dreamy and content. Matt’s hand massages my shoulder.
I push the phone away. “Looks can be deceiving.”
She raises her brows and gives me a flat stare.
“Fine. We’ve been… dating. Kind of. But it’s just for fun. While I’m here.”
She stabs a finger at the phone. “That doesn’t look like just for fun to me. That dude looks at you like he wants to whisk you away to his cabin in the woods and keep you all to himself.”
“That’s not creepy at all.”
“Kind of like Dad and Destiny. Older dude and a younger woman he can control.”
My stomach goes sour. “He doesn’t try to control me! And I’m nothing like Destiny!” If I tell myself this enough times, will it be true?
The sound of the garage door ratcheting open brings me to my feet. “I told you, this is just temporary. Once the show is over, and all this”—I circle a hand, indicating Dad’s room—“is resolved, I’m out of here. Back to SoCal where I belong.”
“I can’t believe you made me come in through the garage.” Destiny’s high-pitched voice carries easily to us as she stomps down the long hallway. “What’s the point of having a grand entrance if you don’t use it?” She stops in the open doorway, making a face, as if she’s tasted something nasty. “Mary. Nicole.”
I don’t bother rising to her bait. “Hello, Destiny.”
“Is that her name?” Maddie turns to me. “I was planning on calling her Number Six. No point in learning her name since she’s leaving so soon.”
I shake my head, trying to hide a smirk. “No need to lower yourself to her level.”
Destiny stomps her foot like a child. “You wish you were at my level. My level is so much higher than any level you’ve ever been to!”
My brother struggles in behind, dragging a pair of large pink suitcases that keep banging into each other, followed by a gangly, thin man in thick glasses and a very ugly gray suit. He carries a briefcase and pulls a small black rolling carry-on. It’s Oliver James from the wedding.
John interrupts Destiny’s tirade. “Maddie, Nica, this is Oliver James from Thomson, Friedmann, Lewis, and Klopfenstein. I’m going to take him in to see Dad.” Without saying a word to Destiny, he drops the suitcases.
“We’ve met.” I get up to shake hands with Oliver.
Oliver gives me a narrow-eyed glare. “I won’t hold it against you.”
John raises his brow and spreads his hands. “Should I ask?”
I shake my head and smile blandly at Oliver. “It’s not a problem, is it, Mr. James? I’m sure your personal feelings don’t impact how you conduct business.”
He glares at me again, then turns to John. “There’s no problem. Please, let’s go see Mr. Holmes.”
John leads him out of the room.
Destiny squeals. “You aren’t talking to Nicky without me!” She storms after them. An argument erupts, Destiny screaming in a voice so high we’ll probably end up with a pack of dogs in the front yard. John’s low tones sound clipped. Oliver mutters something. Then a door slams. There’s pounding, then a second argument and another slam.
Seconds later, Destiny stomps back into the room. “I hope neither of you think you’re staying here! This is still my house!”
“Have at it.” Maddie turns her back and flings herself down on the couch, pulling out her ever-present phone.
I watch until Destiny disappears up the stairs, leaving her two suitcases in the living room. She probably thinks there are servants to bring them up later.
I drop beside Maddie. “That was fun.”
She tosses her phone aside. “Can I stay with you?”
“Sure. Where’s your stuff?”
