I don’t listen. Still holding my wine glass, I squat down in front of the tabby cat. She’s a hostile bitch (like me). She has scratched my arms. Hissed at me. And I swear she pissed on my Jimmy Choos, although I can’t confirm that.
But in this moment, I feel invincible from all offenses. The media. Scott. And this fucking cat. I reach out to her.
“Don’t do it!” Lily yells at me from beside the couch. “You’re going to lose an eye.”
Ignoring my sister, I slip my palm underneath Sadie’s furry belly and pick her right up with one hand, my other still clutching onto the stem of the wine glass. I stand and stare straight into her eyes that almost match the color of mine. I am channeling my hatred into one supreme death glare.
Sadie moves and Lily lets out an audible gasp.
But the cat doesn’t claw me. No.
Shelicksme. Her scratchy little tongue brushes against my chin like a puppy and not a feline.
“What the fuck?” Ryke says in shock.
I hold her close to my body and she purrs against my chest. “We’re friends now,” I state the obvious and take another sip from my wine glass.
“Or she thinks you’ve grown balls,” Loren refutes.
“I’ve always had them,” I say, offended. I turn to see Connor who stares with concern and a little bit of fear. Thebottom of my stomach drops in effect. He can see right through the barriers I build to protect myself.
I’m okay, I try to convey the words through my eyes. But I’m not so sure I succeed.
Lily’s phone rings loudly on her lap. “Shit, it’s Dad.” She looks between Connor and me. “What do you want me to do?”
I don’t say anything. I just kiss Sadie’s head as she continues to nuzzle into my ribs. Her change of demeanor calms me and gives me a little more strength.
Connor mutes the television and takes the phone from Lily, putting it on speaker. “Greg, this is Connor.” His voice is relaxed, even if his tense posture and hard eyes don’t agree.
“Good, I’ve been trying to call you and Rose. I assume you’ve seen the news,” he says quickly, his anger underneath his urgency. “I’m on the phone with my attorneys and Cobalt’s. We’re looking through the contracts all of you signed. Until we can come to a clear picture of what’s going on, I need you to get my daughters out of that townhouse. No more cameras.”
Translation:Princesses of Philly is cancelled.
Hooray. I can hardly celebrate “no more Scott” when the result came at the expense of my name and image. And then it hits me like a freight train—Calloway Couture.EverythingI’ve worked for can go to hell all over again. This sex tape could ruin my fashion career.
And I care.A lot.
My stomach roils like I need to puke. I think I may vomit. I hold my belly, and Connor puts a firm hand on my shoulder, squeezing tightly to reassure me that he’s here, that everything is going to work itself out.
I try to believe it.
“We’ll pack today and leave,” Connor says to my father.
“Let me know when you make it safely back to Princeton. If there’s too much press around the house, you should all stay at our place in Villanova.”
“Sure,” Connor says. “Do you know where Scott is?”
“No idea, but Loren’s father is about to rip him a new asshole. To be honest, I’d love to see it happen.” My dad can be as soft as a flower petal whereas Jonathan Hale is the thorn. “Is Rose around?”
“She’s on speaker.”
“Rose,” my father says, his voice turning gentle. “Honey, how many lawyers looked over the contract before you signed it?”
Everyone stares at me, waiting for the answer. I already sense their judgment. I stroke Sadie who purrs again. She’s my only ally. “Just me,” I say.
“What…the fuck?” Ryke says, his mouth falling.
Loren groans, leaning back into the couch like a wave crashed into him. “Why did we trust you?”
