Page 206 of My Real Love Affair

We shot a few more looks—a power suit that made me feel like a CEO, a flowing dress that was both elegant and subtly sexy, and finally, a casual but intentional outfit of vintage jeans and a cropped sweater that said, “I’m doing just fine without you.”

After we wrapped the shoot, Cleo pulled out the dossier Summer had left on my doorstep. We spread the papers across the studio floor. It was all the “evidence” of the Bancroft arrangement.

“Okay, so we need to make it look like you discovered all this and that’s why you dumped him,” Cleo said, her creative mind already working. “We’ll stage some photos. You looking at the documents, looking upset, maybe one with your hand over your mouth like you can’t believe what you’re seeing.”

She positioned me on the floor with the papers spread around me, my expression somewhere between shocked and hurt. The photos were a little theatrical, but they’d sell the story.

I had washed away the makeup and had changed into a comfy lounge outfit. Like I was just sitting around my house crying my heart out.

“Perfect,” Cleo said, reviewing them. “You look like a woman who just had her world turned upside down.”

I did feel like that, actually. Just not for the reasons these photos would suggest.

Cleo produced a bottle of wine from her oversized tote bag. Typical Cleo. Usually, we had at least one glass during our shoots. It helped loosen me up. We settled on the studio floor, passing the bottle back and forth like we were college students instead of professional businesswomen in our late twenties. We weren’t bothering with glasses.

“This is insane,” I said, taking a swig directly from the bottle. “Like, completely insane.”

“Babe, you started fake dating a Bancroft. Insane was always on the menu.” Cleo grabbed the bottle back. “But for real, this is some next-level scheming. I’m kind of impressed.”

I thought about Austin’s face last night when he showed up on my doorstep. The vulnerability in his eyes when he’d tried to push me away to protect me. The sex had been a goodbye. His way of ending things.

She dragged her laptop over and we marked a few of the pictures we wanted to use. The photos had to look authentic enough to convince Summer.

“You know what’s wild?” I said, selecting the best photos to send to Summer. “Agreeing to date Austin Bancroft is the craziest thing I’ve ever done. It’s completely changed my life.”

“For better or worse?”

“Better,” I said without hesitation. “So much better. He’s changed me, Cleo. Made me braver. More willing to take risks. More… myself, somehow.”

“That’s beautiful and disgusting,” Cleo said, but she was smiling. “I’m happy for you, babe. Even if your boyfriend’s family is a hot mess.”

“They’re not all bad.”

I was focused on crafting the perfect text to Summer. My fingers hovered over the keyboard as I attached the revenge photos. A couple of pictures from the bold shoot and a couple of pictures of me reading her stupid evidence.

I hit send before I could second-guess myself.

“And now we wait,” I said, setting my phone down. It buzzed almost immediately.

Summer’s response was quick:I’m so sorry you had to find out this way. But I’m glad you’re seeing the truth. Those photos are perfect. You look strong and powerful. Post them. Show the world you’re nobody’s fool.

My stomach turned at her fake sympathy, but I kept my response neutral:Thanks. When is your expose going live?

The three dots appeared, disappeared, then appeared again. Finally:Tomorrow. I’m recording it tonight with The Spill Room. You know it?

I knew it. Everyone knew it. The Spill Room was a massively successful gossip podcast and YouTube show with over twelve million subscribers. They specialized in celebrity drama and scandal, and if Summer was going on there, she was going nuclear.

Another message from Summer came in:12 million people are going to hear about what the Bancrofts did to us.Want to meet up one more time before everything goes public? We should coordinate our stories.

Coordinate our stories. She wanted to make sure I was fully on board with her version of events before she pulled the trigger. I glanced at Cleo, who was reading over my shoulder. She nodded.

Sure. Where and when?

She quickly replied with an address and a time. I assumed it must be her place. The audacity was almost impressive.

Me:See you then.

I set the phone down and looked at Cleo, my heart pounding. This was really happening.