Page 29 of All In

Juniper rears back almost as he physically struck her. “I have genuinely no idea what you’re talking about,” Juniper says, “and even less interest in finding out. I don’t know anyone’s net worth. I have never once in my life asked a man what he’s worth before deciding whether I want to spend time with him, and frankly, Eric, the fact that money is the only weapon you’ve got left says a lot more about you than it does about anyone standing here.”

It’s a good line. A great line, honestly, delivered with real heat, and for one suspended second I think—she doesn’t know. She heard “net worth” and went straight to defending her own character, and never once connected the dots to me.

Which means she just defended me, fiercely, without even realizing that’s what she was doing.

It should feel like relief. It mostly feels like dread, because I know what I haven’t told her. I know I’m the one standing here letting her swing at a target she can’t see.

Eric’s jaw works, color rising in his face. Whatever reaction he was hoping for, this clearly wasn’t it.

“Whatever,” he mutters. “Have a good rest of your con.”

Then I swear I hear him say ‘bitch’ under his breath and while I am totally in favor of a woman fighting her own battles when she wants to, some things must not be ignored.

I grab his arm before he walks off and pull him into what might look like a friendly bro hug to a passer-by.

“I know I did not hear you call her what I think you called her. I’m not going to make a scene in here, for that you should be grateful. But I want to make this completely clear to you so we don’t have any additional miscommunications. Do not speak to her, do not talk about her. Delete her contact information in your phone. And maybe read a fucking book on how to actually treat a lady.” I tighten my hold. “We clear?”

“Crystal,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Excellent.” I release him then.

He turns and walks off into the crowd, and Juniper watches him go with her arms crossed, chin up, looking entirely like a woman who just won something.

“Okay,” she says, turning back to me, some of the heat still in her voice. “What was that about? Net worth? Trust fund? Is he just making things up now because I rejected him?”

I open my mouth. Close it.

This is the moment. I know it’s the moment. The vendor hall is loud around us; somebody nearby haggling over a poster, a kid shrieking with laughter three booths down, and a reminder over the loud speaker about a last minute schedule change. None of it matters because I have maybe four seconds to decide whether I tell her right here, standing in a crowded aisle, or whether I find somewhere quieter first.

“There’s more to it. Things about me that I haven’t shared.” I take a deep breath. “I want to tell you though, explain things. Just not here.”

Something flickers across her, then she nods slowly. “Okay,” she says slowly. “Sure.”

But the easy warmth from twenty minutes ago has gone quiet, replaced by something more watchful, and I spend the rest of the afternoon feeling the absence of it like a held breath.

By the time we’re back at the hotel, she’s tired in a way that has nothing to do with the walking.

“I think I’m just going to turn in,” she says in the lobby, not quite meeting my eyes. “Long day. My feet are filing a formal complaint.”

“We could get dinner. Talk.” I try to keep it light, even though nothing in me feels light right now. “I did say I’d explain.”

“I know. I just—” She exhales, tucking a strand of hair back, the gesture more tired than annoyed, which somehow makes it worse. “I’d rather just go to bed tonight, if that’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Juniper—”

“It’s fine, Leo.” Her smile doesn’t quite land. “Goodnight.”

She’s gone before I can find anything else to say, and I stand in the lobby for a long minute after the elevator doors close, feeling the entire day’s momentum drain out through the soles of my feet.

Up in my room, I call Oliver instead of texting, because some conversations need an actual voice attached to them.

“Hey,” he answers, “aren’t you supposed to be off conspiring?”

“I need to ask you something.”

Something in my tone must register, because his voice changes immediately, all the teasing dropping out of it. “What happened?”

I tell him. The Forbes thing, Eric’s comment, the way Juniper defended me without knowing it, the way she went quiet and tired and distant the second we got back to the hotel.