Page 196 of My Real Love Affair

The wine arrived, and Summer poured us each a glass. I didn’t touch mine.

“I understand you must have questions,” she said, taking a delicate sip. “And probably doubts. I know I did when I first realized what was happening.”

“What was happening?” I asked. “According to you.”

I had already decided I was going to play dumb. Pretend I was just some innocent lamb that needed all of her guidance. That part, I could act out very well.

“According to the contracts and payment records,” she corrected gently. “The facts speak for themselves, Melody. The Bancroft family used me to protect their image. Cash contacted me personally after Austin’s drunk call went viral. You remember that mess, right?”

I nodded slowly. “Vaguely.”

“Well, they were panicking. Austin had just publicly humiliated his family—again—and they needed damage control. So Cash offered me money to play Austin’s girlfriend for a while. Keep him out of trouble. Help him look more stable and mature.” She swirled her wine. “I was between jobs, the money was good, and I signed the contract. Simple business transaction.”

“There was paperwork?”

She nodded. “We had a deal set in stone. And then Austin met you.” Her eyes met mine, and there was something calculating in them. “At that wedding. He ditched me to grab you instead. Do you remember that?”

I remembered. Of course I remembered. Those few minutes changed my entire life.

“He was supposed to be there with me,” Summer continued. “That was the arrangement. But apparently, you were more useful to him. That little scandal you were involved in made you perfect for making him look like a hero and a reformed bad boy all at once. I told him who you were when we were sitting together. He knew exactly what he was doing when he sought you out.”

Her words felt like poison seeping into my bloodstream.

“Anyway, when Austin decided you were a better option for his rehabbed public image, they paid me off and sent me on my way. Just like that. I was disposable.” She leaned forward. “The Bancrofts are experts at using people, Melody. They did it to me. And they’re doing it to you.”

“Why do you think they’re doing it to me too?” I asked.

“Do you really think you’re any different?”

“Austin and I—” I started, then stopped. What was I going to say? That we were real? That what we had was different? How could I be sure?

“Let me guess,” Summer said, her voice softening into something that almost sounded sympathetic. “He swept you off your feet. Made you feel special. Seen. Protected you from the trolls and the critics. Introduced you to his family. Took you on amazing trips. Made you believe you were the only woman in the world.”

Every word was a direct hit. That was exactly what had happened.

“He’s very good at that,” she continued. “Making women feel like they matter. It’s part of his charm. But you have to ask yourself, Melody—why you? Why right when you were at your most vulnerable? Why right when his family needed him to look reformed and stable?”

“Please stop,” I whispered.

“I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m trying to help you see what I didn’t see until it was too late. The Bancrofts use people. It’s what they do. They’ll protect their image at any cost, even if it means manipulating good people like you and me.”

I didn’t know what to say. Part of me knew she was telling the truth and another part of me was insisting I was somehow different.

“We can fight back,” she said. “Together. I’m going to expose them for what they are—the manipulation, the contracts, all of it. You can help me. We can show the world what the Bancrofts really are.”

“Why?” I asked. “I’m sure you can get any man you want. Why go after them?”

“It’s about justice. They shouldn’t be able to treat people like disposable props. Don’t you want justice for what they did to you?”

“They haven’t done anything to me.”

“Haven’t they?” Summer tilted her head. “Are you sure about that? Because from where I’m sitting, you look like a woman who’s been played. And the longer you stay with Austin, the worse it’s going to be when the truth comes out.”

“What truth?”

“That none of it was real. That you were just another tool in their PR arsenal. Austin Bancroft doesn’t actually love you—he loves what you can do for his reputation.”

The words hung in the air between us, heavy and ugly.