Page 78 of Miss Belief

Teagan

The beauty I found in taking a private jet was bypassing the entire airport and instead taking a car straight to the waiting plane.

Part of me wondered if there’d be a catch. With Chance, I was sure there always would be, but when I boarded, the pilots and single flight attendant were ready for me. I didn’t bother to appreciate the opulent leather seats, the state-of-the-art entertainment system, or the full bar at my disposal.

Before long, we took off. After accepting a bottle of water from the flight attendant, I effectively dismissed her for the rest of the flight. I was probably the lowest-maintenance passenger she’d ever had on this plane.

I’d been tempted to call Chloe or my sister, but what would I say? I was heartbroken because I’d agreed to become a fake date for a guy I knew wasn’t over his ex-fiancée, and now I was shocked to learn he wasn’t over her? Or better yet, how about his older brother finding out I was a stripper in a country where it was illegal—then offering to pay me to leave Reid alone. Good times.

At least I was over my crush. Of course, it had cost me my heart to get here.

As the plane flew toward LA, I did what I’d done my entire life. I internalized it all. Beat myself up about letting my guard down, and for believing for one minute my infatuation could become a real-life relationship. My eyes burned with hot tears.

Stupid girl.

Served me right for getting my hopes up and starting to believe there could be such a thing as a happy ending. And hell, maybe there was, but not for a girl like me. I’d made my choices. I owned them. And if people wanted to judge me for them, then they could fuck right off.

* * *

It wasearly morning when the Uber dropped me off in front of my sister’s apartment complex. I’d sent her a text just saying, “here early, will be there soon.” But weirdly I’d had no reply. Perhaps she was on another job interview or with Penelope at a doctor’s appointment. They’d had one on Friday, and I wondered how it had gone.

I had a key but chose to knock since she hadn’t answered my text. I was unprepared for the devastated look on my sister’s face when she opened the door.

She immediately went in for a hug and burst into tears. My sister didn’t hug or cry. Ever. Except once. When Penelope had first been diagnosed with leukemia. Oh, no.

“What happened at the appointment?”

She pulled away, wiping her eyes as if she was angry with the tears for falling. “It’s back. The cancer. Or it never left. I don’t know. They’re scheduling another round of chemo beginning later this week.”

My heavy sigh fell between us. I couldn’t think of worse news.

“Sorry. Come in. You must be tired. Why are you here early? I wasn’t expecting you until later tonight.”

I followed her inside with my suitcase. “There was an earlier flight available.” I wouldn’t tell her what had happened with Reid. My problems paled in comparison to what she was going through. What my niece was going through. “You found out on Friday?”

“I did. And don’t be mad I didn’t tell you right away. You were at the wedding, and I figured it would be a better conversation to have in person.”

I wouldn’t debate her. “Where is Penelope?”

“Napping.”

I took a seat on the secondhand couch and tried not to let the shittiness of the world overwhelm me. It would do no good to wallow. “How did she take the news?”

Tory took a seat next to me, heaving out a sigh. “She took the news like a champ. Said she was sad her hair wouldn’t get a chance to grow back yet, but she’d stay strong and fight it again.”

The last word came on a broken whisper, causing a tear to slip down my face. Four fucking years old and trying to be strong and fight cancer.

“God, I have to get myself together. I’ve had no luck in getting a new job. Not sure how I’ll get one now with all of the appointments I’ll have to take Penny to.”

Tory stripped at a local club a few nights a week, earning enough money to pay rent and cover food costs, but not leaving much left over for medical care or anything extra. She’d tried to get a day job, but it was impossible to balance a nine-to-five with a sick child who needed daily medical care. Sure, if she’d already been in a job for a year, she could have qualified for FMLA, Family Medical Leave Act, but that wasn’t the case.

As much as I’d have loved to quit my job at the Scarlett Letter—and had planned to do so—this took priority. “I’ll take more shifts at the club.” Myra, the woman in charge, was always flexible with girls who requested more hours. I’d even endure more back-room dances if I had to.

“I can’t ask you to do that. How are things with your boss going? How was the wedding? You can’t jeopardize anything with him by continuing to work there.”

“I wouldn’t be jeopardizing anything with Reid. It’s over. Or it didn’t really begin. He’s still hung up on his ex.”

Her eyes didn’t leave mine. “Men suck.”