I yelled. “I fucked up, and I need a lawyer or—wait, you have a brother who’s ex-Special Forces, right? Crawford? Can you have him make someone disappear?”
Greg put down his pen. “This is going to cost you.”
“Sure, anything,” I said.
Greg listened as I gave the CliffsNotes version.
“And they’re spreading lies about me,” I said irately. “I loved Sarah. I carried a torch for her!”
“You did,” Carl said. “Greg, you should have seen him; it was pathetic.” Carl huffed a laugh. “Who in their right mind pines after some woman who humiliated him—yeah, dude, she treated you like shit—and left him then turns around and emasculates him?”
Greg’s jaw was tense, the tendons on his neck prominent. I thought I heard a molar crack.
“I mean,” Carl stammered, hastily backtracking. “I mean, you and Belle’s situation isn’t quite the same thing.”
“I am not carrying a torch for Belle, as you so stupidly put it,” Greg said, his flat gray gaze fixed on Carl.
“No, of course not,” Carl said in a rush. “You’re the boss. You’re the cold-hearted investor.”
“We’ll be on the lookout for Trevor. If he says something, I’ll send the lawyers after him. He won’t see it coming. We’ll ruin him.” Greg turned to Carl. “Call Josh and Eric and give them a heads-up. And have Blade start tracking it.”
“Should I get Garrett on it too?” Carl asked.
“No,” Greg barked. “I cannot deal with Garrett. He’s been on my case for the last week, constantly calling me about what presents all our little brothers are receiving. It’s excessive. I don’t see why each one needs a present from all of us. It’s hundreds of presents. You should see the house in Harrogate on Christmas Day,” he told me with a thousand-yard stare. “The wrapping paper…there’s so much wrapping paper.”
My phone buzzed.
“Is that Belle?” Greg asked, attention snapping to me.
“Actually…” I looked at my phone.
Belle: Where the hell are you! We are about to start filming!
I raced into the studio just as they were sending one of the contestants home.
“It’s because of her!” the bachelorette shouted at Keeley. “She sabotaged my macaroons by putting water in the food coloring! You need to arrest that bitch!”
I grimaced as the security guards led the brunette out.
“I would say that we had all the drama out of the way first thing,” Anastasia announced to the remaining three contestants. “But we have an extra-special surprise: a wildcard contestant, a blast from the past, and our billionaire holiday bachelor’s first love.”
No.
“Sarah DiRizzo!”
51
Morticia
No fucking way.
Sarah pranced out. She had really done herself up. Instead of her usual mousy good-girl vibe, she had her hair in bouncy ringlets, she was wearing tall platform high heels, and she had donned a polyester candy-striped short dress that barely covered her red underwear with the white snowflakes. How did I know this? Because her dress rode up when she walked.
“Would you like to tell us a little about yourself?” Anastasia asked Sarah as the camera guys zoomed in.
“I am a baker and an aspiring homemaker,” Sarah began.
“Gold digger,” Keeley fake sneezed.
“You’re the gold digger!” Sarah yelled at her older sister. “You and Morticia.”
“It seems as if we have a family baking feud in the house,” Anastasia said. “We’ll have to see which DiRizzo, if any of them, wins this round and Jonathan’s heart. Today’s challenge is the edible decorations challenge. Edible Christmas tree ornaments, gingerbread houses, and more. We want you to show us how to best bring in the holiday cheer with decorations so good you could eat them!”
“Just concentrate on baking,” I told myself. “In a couple weeks, this will all be over with.”
My collage was almost done. I was putting on the finishing touches to give it that extra bit of oomph that was going to win me a scholarship.
Sarah and Keeley could fight over Jonathan, and I would walk away, head held high. Except I didn’t want to walk away. I wanted to tie my hair up and throw down. How dare Sarah come back after just ghosting Johnathan? The image of him lying on the bed next to me and asking me to promise I wouldn’t leave him stabbed me in the heart.
Sarah didn’t deserve him back, and it clearly went without saying that Keeley did not deserve him.
And you do?
Maybe. I’d be better than those two.
But you don’t even like him.
Okay, so maybe I liked him a teensy little bit. Jonathan pushed all my buttons, and not just the one between my legs. I always did like