Page 164

Of course she saw it. Of course everyone saw it. Because he’s a fucking millionaire. How dumb can I be?

“Of course,” I whisper.

Me: please don’t start

Simone: I am not starting. I am CONCERNED

Simone: also furious

Simone: also impressed you didn’t throw the cake at him

That almost makes me smile.

Almost.

Me: come over?

Simone: already outside

The doorbell rings.

I drag myself out of bed, don’t bother fixing my hair, and open the door. Simone is standing there with coffee in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

She takes one look at me and her face softens. “Jesus,” she says. “You look like hell.”

“Thank you.”

“I mean it lovingly.”

“I’m sure you do.”

She steps inside without waiting, sets everything on the table, and turns to me. “Okay,” she says. “You’re literally the mother of a fucking millionaire. Bitch, why didn’t you tell me earlier? Alester Chandler, please.”

“Stupid NDA.” I shake my head. “It was all supposed to be hush-hush, at least that’s what was implied initially. Yet, he went and announced it.”

“Yeah, fucking CNN aired it,” Simone says.

“You’re joking.” I stare at her.

“I wish,” she says.

“And the worst part was that he made it seem like it was my birthday party. I blew up my plans with you because he made it sound so urgent,” I say.

“Yes, that was the part that made me want to commit a crime,” she says. “Oh, sweetie.”

I take the coffee she hands me and stare into it like it might solve something.

“I didn’t know,” I say.

Simone goes still. “You didn’t know?”

“No.”

She blinks. “He didn’t tell you he was going to announce it?”

“No.”

Her expression shifts from concern to something sharper. “That is—” She stops, exhales hard. “That is not okay.”