“Your mom should work for the CIA, because she was fishing for information!” Piper shrieks while I yell. “I had to tell her something! I thought this would shut her up.”
“Online dating?”
“At least now you and Graham can be happily ever after.” Piper grimaces. “Since no one’s going to find out that he… you know.”
“You don’t understand!” I shriek. “Iwaskidnapped.”
“‘Kidnapped.’” Piper makes air quotes.
“No! Kidnapped.” I grab my dirty hair. “Me and Lulu were kidnapped by Graham’s nutso stepbrother. By freaking Kraig. Last night. From the office.”
“Whoa. I just have to say that your life in the past couple of months has gotten super insane.”
“It’s all for nothing, because Graham broke up with me.” I sob. “He thinks that he’s a monster, and he doesn’t want to be with me anymore. So now I have to tell my mom that the man who was my only chance at happiness just dumped me. And she thinks I’m online dating!”
The doorbell rings. For a second my heart leaps, thinking it’s Graham.
But it’s not.
“Why are you back here?” Piper rails at the half-nude man.
“I need money for a cab. Also”—he throws an envelope at me—“the doorman said I had to bring this to you if he was going to let me up.”
“Get lost.” Piper shoves a few fives at him.
“This better not be another wedding invitation.” I pull a leaf out of my hair.
Piper turns over the envelope. “It’s got your name on it. Can I open it?”
“Go for it. Mom opens my mail all the time,” I groan.
And I lie back down on the floor, my hair a tangled, smelly mess around me.
“Oh shit!” Piper yelps.
“No—don’t tell me. I don’t need any more bad news.”
I close my eyes. “Now everyone—and I do mean literally every person I have ever known or ever will know—knows that I was a virgin up until like a month ago. And that I was lying about it. I lied to so many people that I totally, for sure, had sex. I want to die. That’s how I got the job at Svensson Investment—bybonding with the hiring manager about dating and sex with guys in New York.”
“Well, good news.” The floor squeaks as Piper walks over. “You’ll never have to work again in your life.”
A small card with familiar handwriting flutters down onto my face. I grab it, smudging dirty fingerprints on the creamy-white paper.
I promise you’ll never have to see me again.
I’m sorry.
“There’s a check for thirty-five million dollars. From Graham Richmond.”
“Honestly,Dani, what is wrong with you? That was the most embarrassing moment of my entire life.” Mom storms into the apartment.
“Me? I’m the problem? You all are the ones acting crazy on national television!” I scream. “I’m the one who should be embarrassed.” I stuff Graham’s check into my bag.
I’ve been pressing it to my heart—not because of the money, but because it’s his handwriting. It’s the last thing I have of his he touched.
Did he mean it? Am I really never going to see him again?
It can’t be.
