“God, you’re still so dramatic,” she huffs, flipping her hair as she turns to leave. “Just think about it, okay? It would mean the world to us.”
She saunters away, leaving me standing there, vibrating with fury, fighting the urge to chase after her and pull her hair so hard she lands on the dirt.
I pace in a small circle, shaking out my hands like I’m trying to fling water off my skin. Deep breaths. Think happy thoughts. Puppies. Rainbows. Lindsey falling face-first into the dunk tank.
“Trouble in paradise?”
Everything inside me freezes at the sound of that smooth, cultured voice.
Slowly, I pivot to find Victoria Delacroix standing three feet away, designer sunglasses perched atop her head like a crown, latte in one perfectly manicured hand, the other resting on her hip that’s cocked at a sharp angle.
I stare back and gulp, bracing myself for what is to come next.
Chapter 19
Victoria is in my face before I can even blink, her stiletto heels digging into the festival grass. The woman’s presence fills more space than her slender frame should allow. She’s bigger than life, especially up close.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, instinctively retreating two steps.
Victoria’s kohl-rimmed eyes narrow, and she advances while I keep retreating. “You never answered my question,” she says.
“What question would that be?” I cross my arms, doing my best to match her attitude despite the panicked state my heart is in.
“What’s your relationship with Logan?”
The nerve of this woman. The absolute audacity. Is that what she came all this way to ask?
“There’s nothing between us.” The lies seem to come easier in her presence. “But even if there were, I don’t see how that would be any of your business.”
She steps closer, eliminating what little personal space I had created. Her perfume wraps around me like a python. Is she trying to suffocate me with Chanel No. 5?
“Itismy business,“ she hisses, voice low but intense. “Logan and I are about to collaborate on a new project. We both have parts to play—and you’re not in the script.”
A strange, hollow feeling expands in my chest. “Excuse me?”
“There is a contract that must be honored.”
Has Logan been keeping secrets from me? He never mentioned any contract with Victoria. Not once during our town escapades or our hot spring confessions. Not even when I was nursing him back to health.
“Whatever is going on between you two, I suggest you cut it off. Immediately.” Her tone might as well be ice.
People start gathering around us, recognizing her.
“Isn’t that Victoria Delacroix?” one curious teenage girl says.
“Oh my gosh, she’s really here,” says a woman in a pink tank top.
“Are they fighting over Logan?”
Perfect. Just what I need—to become the latest episode of Maplewood Springs’ resident soap opera. I straighten my spine, summoning every ounce of first-grade teacher authority I possess.
“I don’t answer to you,” I inform her, voice as steady as I can muster. Then I pivot on my heel, planning a dignified exit.
But Victoria’s hand snaps out like a viper, fingers wrapping around my wrist with no intent of letting go.
“Don’t you walk away from me,” she growls at me.
“Let go of me!” I twist my arm, trying to break free without causing a scene. “What is wrong with you?”
