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There was a picture of the guy who introduced himself as Von from Thunder Media at the hospital when Dad went in for his kidney transplant. He told me he was a reporter, but the papers state that he’s a private investigator.
Justus suspects you’re his daughter. Be careful.
This is also my apology.
Gunnar
I wrinkled my nose. I still don’t like you.
I showed Xander.
“So you’re both curious about each other. You have a choice now.”
I hunched my shoulders. “I don’t care. I’ve got the best dad in the world.”
“Yes, you do. You know I love Darek. But it’s just a matter of closure. Nadia, you need to know what other people might use as a tool against you.”
“That’s what Paul said.”
“He’s right. Know every dirty part of your story. Take power away from your enemies. It’ll make you strong.”
I sighed heavily. “Fine. We’ll go.”
“What did Paul have to give you to get you to come back to him? Because I know you. Once you make up your mind, even if it’s bad for you, you stick with it.”
I hesitated but gave in and told him.
“He agreed to make our relationship public on our trip to Rome.”
“Damn, he’s taking you on a Roman holiday. What a life,” he swooned, sounding dreamy.
“He also said he’d date me.”
Xander rolled his eyes. “You’re pushing that man. Why can’t you just enjoy him? He’s sexy, fun, and treats you like a princess. You’ll lose him by weighing things down with all this relationship shit.”
I pursed my lips. “According to everyone, I’ll lose Paul anyway. No one believes he’s serious. So you think I shouldn’t date him?”
He grinned at me. “What I think and what you’ll do are two different things. I want you to be happy and stop waiting for the other shoe to fall.”
I checked my email on my phone, but also searched the school forum. A “Nadia Sokol petition” was on the student boards. Sure enough, there was a link to a landing page.
Sign this petition to maintain the integrity of New York School of Design’s Best of The Year. Nadia Sokol used her relationship with Paul Crane, whose mother Dani Crane sits on our board of trustees, to pressure the panel of professors to choose her dress. It was not the best of the year. See other designs pictured below.
“Twenty-nine signatures. Unbelievable,” I grumbled.
“That’s nothing,” Xander said and huffed. “They should be embarrassed, but shame is out of style.”
However, the petition had only been up for a few hours.How did people hear about it and feel the need to weigh in so quickly?I chewed on my lip. Would their petition have any influence over the selection panel? Paul’s mom despised me. If she caught wind of it, she’d probably confirm what they’re insinuating.Could I not catch a break?
My phone buzzed with a message from Sophie. It was a gif with balloons that said, “Congratulations.”
“Look what Sophie sent me.” I showed Xander.
“Is she trying to slip more drugs to you?” Xander quipped, referring to Sophie giving me oxycodone when I’d asked her for aspirin for my cold during the Sugar Baby mixer.
I scoffed, but grinned. “Sophie can’t slip drugs through a text message. Honestly, I’m a bit put out by her renewed interest. I did ask to crash in my old dorm room, but she moved out.”
“No way. You are always welcome to stay with me. Even if we fight. We’re family.”
