“No!” She slaps my shoulder. “Confronting them is the worst thing you can do. They’ll blacklist you and create an overnight PR shit storm. Remember Connor McEvers? Used to play for the Pittsburgh Dynamite? He was forced to retire at twenty-six because no one wanted him after all the allegations.”
I remember Connor.
And I remember thinking what happened to him was utter bullshit too, but the media frenzy that surrounded it all seemed mind-blowingly legit. Accused of sexual assault and battery, rumor had it it was a set-up, only his not-guilty verdict didn’t do much to revive his career after the damage had already been done.
“If you confront them, I can guarantee you’ll be the next Connor McEvers.”
My eyes roll to the back of my head.
“We can fix this,” she says.
“We?”
“Yeah. If I tell Daddy you’re my boyfriend, that we’re in love, I can convince him not to let you go.”
“Your father is a businessman. He’s not going to let a deal fall through because his daughter is in love.” I spit my words at her. She’s insulting my intelligence. “Nice try, Carissa.”
“You’d be surprised,” she says. “That man has never said no to me.”
“And maybe that’s your problem. You need to be told ‘no’ more often.” I cross my arms.
“How are things going with Rue’s niece?” she switches the subject.
“Leave her out of this.”
Carissa shrugs. “I was just asking.”
“No, you weren’t just asking.” I glance at the clock on the wall and sigh. She’s really cutting into my workout.
“She looks a lot like Mirabelle. It’s kind of creepy actually.”
My jaw tightens. “Don’t say her name around me.”
“I’m just saying the resemblance is uncanny. I think that’s why you’re fucking her. You wish she was Mirabelle.” Carissa folds her arms, arching a brow. “It’d be a shame if she ever found out what happened . . .”
“Is that a threat?” I lean in, voice low and guttural. “What the fuck is wrong with you? What do you want? What’s it going to take to get you to leave me alone?”
“All I want is one date with you,” she says. “One date where you get dressed up and I get dressed up and you show me off and treat me the way I deserve to be treated. Like I’m the only girl in the world.” Her fingers trail up the center of my chest. “I want you to look at me like you look at her. Like I’m the most amazing thing you’ve ever seen, Zane.”
My stomach turns.
“I can’t.”
“You can. And you will.” Her hand falls and her arms cross tight along her chest. “Next month, you’re escorting me to the Annual Camp Kick Off Party at my father’s house. I already told him you asked me to be your date, so I suggest you be a man of your word.”
She winks, and I’ve never wanted to hit a woman so hard before. My fists clench at my sides.
“Why the fuck would you do that?” I’m seeing red.
“I just want one chance to prove that we could be happy together. That I’m not a psycho bitch. I’m just a girl who fell hopelessly in love with the one man in the world who doesn’t want her. I want a chance to turn this tragedy into the love story it deserves to be.” Carissa sighs. “Give me one night, and I’ll be out of your hair forever. And I promise to make sure my father doesn’t do a damn thing to destroy the career you’ve worked your ass off for. You have my word. Zane, I mean it. I promise.”
Her eyes grow round and her hand lands on her chest.
“One night,” she says. “A handful of hours. And your future is back in your own hands . . . whichever direction you decide to go. Because you never know, you might actually have a nice time with me. And if you don’t? I’ll step away. Let you go running, arms wide open, back to Rue’s mousy little niece.”
Her nose points up.
It’s not my policy to negotiate with terrorists. Or crazy psycho stalkers. But in this case, the reward might be worth the hassle.
It’s just one night. A handful of hours with a fake smile on my face and the owner’s daughter draped on my arm. It won’t mean a damn thing.
And then this will all be over.
Finally.
“One night,” I say, walking away. “And then this is done.”
Chapter 19
Delilah
“I need you out of here in an hour.” I stand outside the guest bathroom I’ve been sharing with my sister all week as she irons in a few curls and drags her fingers through them to break them up. “We have another showing. Buyers will be here at five.”
“Does Rue know?” Daphne plucks a hair pin between her teeth and separates the prongs. “She just started packing for Palm Springs, like, twenty minutes ago.”
“Yes,” I told her. “She’s almost finished. Why are you getting all dolled up?”
Daphne meets my gaze in the mirror and bites her lip.
“Weston?” I ask. Should’ve known.
She slinks a shoulder to her ear, her lips spreading wide in sly, slow movements. I’ve never known a man to put that kind of smile on my sister’s face.
“This is your second date this week,” I say. “He knows you fly home tomorrow, right?”
She brushes her fingers through her hair before pinning two face-framing strands behind her ear.