Page 211 of My Real Love Affair

Aserver had already filled my water glass and left a wine list, but I’d been too nervous to look at it. I knew Summer was going to order wine. I didn’t even know her, but I knew enough to know she didn’t get through a conversation like the one we were going to have without wine.

My phone sat face down on the table beside my water glass, the call still connected. I could feel it there like a lifeline—Austin, Cash, and Cleo listening to every word, ready to step in if things went sideways.

I wasn’t afraid of Summer. Not in a physical sense. But I didn’t trust her. She might try and get me to say something. She could very well be the one recording me. I needed to watch what I said.

Summer glided in like she owned the place.

“Melody!” She air-kissed both my cheeks, her perfume overwhelming and expensive. “Oh my god, you look amazing. I love the outfit.”

I’d chosen carefully. I went with a silk blouse tucked into tailored trousers with heels that made me feel powerful. Battle armor disguised as dinner attire. I could feel eyes on us. Or maybe I was just being paranoid.

“Thanks,” I said.

She settled in and immediately charmed the server who appeared to take our drink orders. “We’ll have a bottle of your best Chardonnay,” Summer said without consulting me. “And I’ll start with the burrata. Melody?”

“The same,” I said, not really caring what I ordered. I wouldn’t be able to eat anyway, not with my stomach in knots.

Once the server left, Summer leaned forward conspiratorially. “I can’t believe this is really happening. Tomorrow is the big day. Are you ready for this?”

I forced myself to smile. “I’m ready. But I want to make sure we’re on the same page about everything. Tell me again how this is going to go down.”

Summer’s eyes lit up with mischief. She loved talking about herself and her master plan. “So, The Spill Room is recording the episode tonight at midnight. It’ll go live tomorrow morning at eight, right in time for the East Coast morning commute. Maximum impact.”

The server returned with our wine, pouring generous glasses. Summer didn’t wait for a toast, just took a sip and continued.

“I’ll walk them through the entire arrangement I did with Cash Bancroft. I’m going to tell them all the dirty details about how he hired me to babysit Austin. And then I’ll talk about how Austin used me and then discarded me the moment you came along.” She reached across the table like she might touch my hand. “That’s where you come in. You’re the proof that this is a pattern of behavior. That the Bancrofts see women as disposable tools for their PR machine.”

My stomach churned, but I kept my expression neutral. “And you think this will get you what you want?”

“What I want?” Summer laughed, taking another sip of wine. “Melody, this is going to make my career. Do you know how many opportunities come from a viral expose like this? Bookdeals, speaking engagements, consulting gigs. I’ll be the woman who took down a Bancroft. People will pay serious money for that story. And there will undoubtedly be a very wealthy man ready to swoop in and prove to me that not all rich guys are the same.”

The casual way she said it, like destroying Austin’s reputation was just a steppingstone to her personal success, made my blood boil. But I swallowed the anger and kept my voice level.

“I thought this was about justice,” I said carefully. “About holding them accountable. What about the lawsuit you mentioned? The legal action?”

Summer’s smile flickered for just a second. “Well, yes, of course it’s about justice too.”

“But you said you were going to sue them. What legal grounds do you have? What does an expose have to do with a lawsuit?”

She set down her wine glass, and I saw her calculating behind those pretty eyes. “The thing is, after consulting with my lawyers, I realized that suing the Bancrofts would be complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

“They have unlimited resources. The best legal team money can buy. They’d drag it out for years, bleed me dry in legal fees, and probably win anyway just because they can afford to outlast me.” She picked up her wine again, swirling it. “I can’t afford to sue them. Not really.”

“So the lawsuit was never actually an option?”

“Not a realistic one, no.” Summer’s voice had an edge now, like she didn’t appreciate being questioned. “But that’s where public opinion comes in. I can’t beat them in court, but I can beat them in the court of public opinion. Once people see what they did, once Austin gets canceled—really cancelled, not justthe usual tabloid nonsense—then the Bancrofts will wish they’d just settled with me quietly.”

I felt a rush of pure anger. Summer didn’t even know Austin. She’d spent what, a few minutes with him? And now she was planning to destroy everything he’d worked to become—not because he’d actually hurt her, but because she wanted fame and money.

“So, this is your first move to get them to try and settle with you?” I asked.

“No, no.” She smiled. “This is because they didn’t settle with me when they could have. So now I’m going nuclear.”

The burrata arrived, and Summer attacked it with enthusiasm, completely at ease. She was enjoying this, enjoying the prospect of ruining someone’s life for her own gain.

I picked at my food, trying to figure out how to get her to say more without tipping my hand. I had to pretend to hate Austin just as much as she did, but the charade was getting harder to maintain with every passing second.