Except for poor Todd.
He was perched on the edge of his bench, eyes locked on the arch like it might deliver salvation. The man had it bad for Olivia.
I sat up, spine straight, waiting for my cue to do the unthinkable. Well—unthinkable to me. But my heart was on the line, and desperate times called for desperate measures.
“Let’s meet them,” Roman said, and the torches behind him flared brighter.
So, so cheesy. It was giving off campfire séance-meets-reality TV vibes.
“First, let’s welcome Fiona Zimmerman,” he continued, “associate archaeology professor at Cornell University and Diego’s former intern.”
“Oops,” Cassie whispered. “But also . . . that’s kind of hot.”
I giggled, watching Diego grip the edge of the bench like it might save him from drowning. Guilt and longing radiated from him.
And then it hit me. I’d probably kept them apart.
A relationship like that—boss and intern—was a hard no in my guidebook. Cassie wasn’t wrong. It could be hot. But it could also be messy. Emotionally and mentally dangerous. The kind of dynamic that left scars.
Fiona stepped through the arch like she owned the forest. Confident. Composed. Wearing a sensible khaki dress that somehow made her look like she could excavate an entire ruin before lunch. Her long ebony hair was pulled into a neat bun, not a strand out of place.
She didn’t give off doormat vibes.
Not even close.
The only vibe I got was:You messed this one up, Demi.My goddess side chimed in, smug as ever.Ding, ding, ding.
Ugh. Okay, I got it—I was evil. Maybe I needed to be destroyed. Or at least mildly smote. To be fair, there have been a lot of intern scandals that should have been prevented.
Fiona zeroed in on Diego. In my head, I could hear the dramatic music that I was sure they would add in postproduction.
“We have some unfinished business, and I’m here to settle it.”
No doubt Jazzy was somewhere in the forest, thanking the stars above thatfinallythere was some drama thisseason. She’d probably scripted that line for Fiona. But she hadn’t seen anything yet. I was about to become her favorite person again.
Fiona stepped to the side, and the entire clearing held its breath, waiting for the next ex to appear.
Roman, of course, had to have his say first.
“Sounds like Fiona’s ready to dig up the past,” he said, voice smooth and composed. Maybe he’d practiced that in the mirror. Maybe someday I’d find out.
“Diego, are you?” he added.
All eyes turned to Diego. His ears turned a bright shade of red as he slowly nodded.
This was all getting so ridiculous.
But if I thought that was ridiculous, it had nothing on the twin bombshells who strutted through the arch like it was a Paris runway. Sequins were everywhere, so blinding I was pretty sure the mist recoiled. Both women were as platinum-blonde as Cassie, and I had no doubt they were Carter’s exes. The man clearly had a type.
But seriously—twins? He’d dated sisters? My opinion of him was sinking faster than a cursed ship.
“Next up,” Roman said, voice steady but edged with quiet judgment, “we have not one but two familiar faces. Sisters, Gemma and Gia. Both dated Carter. Let’s see how that plays out.”
Roman was judging him, just like I was. And for that, I liked him more.
Gemma and Gia, in perfect sync like naughty Doublemint Twins, cooed in matching baby voices: “We’re not here to play nice. We’re here to stir up trouble.”
“Oh, these two have to go,” Cassie hissed beside me, clearly regretting every second she’d ever spent with Carter. She was already planning to hex the twins. And maybe Carter . . . into oblivion.
