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She didn’t just do what I think she did. Did she?

Let me be clear on what that is—it looked like Mina pegged me and Rhett as a couple. An item. Two people who should attach our names to a “magical”—in finger quotes—quilt.

I scoff inside my head. Well, what Miss Mina doesn’t know is that I’ve already made my decision, and it’s a hard no.

But my hand hovers over the cloth strip. I could write my name. For giggles. ’Cause it might be fun to see if I have a soulmate, if the quilt can really do what she claims—which I’m sure it can’t, because even if it could, I’d probably mess up the relationship anyway.

Just then my phone buzzes. I look down and see it’s a text from my father: ​​Call me, Kitty Kat.​​

The cloth and pen suddenly feel heavy, and I know I’m too much—too much for a guy, too much for my birth parents.

“You never know until you try,” Mina whispers in my ear, sending a chill streaking down my spine.

What is it with this woman?

But she could be right . . .

I click the pen and start writing. C-R—

Then I stop.

Screw this. I’m not doing it.

I spot the nearest trash can and drop the pen and fabric in it.

Choice made. Congratulations, Soulmate Quilt. You’ve met your match—a trash can.

Chapter 4

Cristina

Jace stands across the lobby, plate in hand, eating cocktail shrimp and oblivious to the fact that he just ruined my night. Suddenly, every humiliating moment of the past ten minutes replays in my head. Furious, I charge over, leaving Rhett in a cloud of dust.

One that hopefully he won’t follow this time. I’m not interested in half-hearted apologies.

At least, that’s what I tell myself before my head decides to act of its own free will and looks back to see if Rhett’s following.

He’s not, so that you know. I’m sure you were worried.

And that one tiny little thought makes my shoulders sag. They should be lifting, happy he’s finally leaving me alone. So should the rest of my body. But it isn’t. A hole has opened in the pit of my stomach.

I shove the feeling aside and keep on.

I pass a waiter carrying a tray of full champagne flutes and I grab two, downing one and abandoning it on the buffet table right before I reach Jace.

“Well, hey, Jace. Fancy seeing you here tonight. Again.”

He’s slouched against the wall as if he can’t be bothered to even be at this party. If he doesn’t want to mingle, why show up and ruin my life?

Am I exaggerating? No, I’m really not, because reputations can easily be destroyed.

“What’s up, Cristina?” he says casually before glancing over my shoulder.

I step into his line of vision. “What’s up is that earlier tonight when we talked, I told you how I planned to meet my boss. So lo and behold, you can’t imagine my surprise when Rhett Maddox informs me that I’m a stalker. Guess who he heard that from?”

Jace shrugs and looks away, bored. Oh, no, he’s not getting off that easy.

“You told him that, Jace. You. You insulted and belittled me in front of my new boss. Why would you do that? I thought we were on good terms.”