And, most importantly, he wouldn’t be calling me if he wasn’t willing to pay.

“No, you’ll give it to me in one week,” I said. “Because if you don’t, I’m posting screenshots online. No, I don’t want my family finding out, but I’m willing to bet that you don’t want yours to find out about Emma, or her little pup, Dante, or your midnight trips to Oak Street. If you want to take that chance, go for it.”

He was silent for a long time. I was determined not to speak first, so we waited, and when he spoke, his tone had changed.

“You’re fucking nuts,” he said, surprise in his voice.

I was tempted to respond, but I still held myself back, and after another minute passed, he finally spoke again.

This time, he sounded tired and maybe…resigned.

“The crazy thing is that she doesn’t mean anything to me,” he said. “Emma Bentley is just some stupid whore, and I’ve never regretted hooking up with a fan more than I do now. I’ll get you your money.”

The line disconnected immediately, and I sat there in the dark, my heart racing, my stomach tied up in knots.

This is not your responsibility, Paula.

You have to let it go.

And yet…

Emma had mentioned that there were big changes coming for Allure. And judging by their text messages, she was going to sell her business for a man who’d just called her a “stupid whore.”

There was a chance, of course, that he’d—very misguidedly—said that only for my benefit.

Maybe he thought that by expressing his loyalty to Tiffane, he’d get me to back off.

But his tone had been too callous for that.

No, he hadn’t said it for my benefit.

He’d said it because he meant it.

Emma had opened herself up to me in the park the other afternoon. I owed it to her to at least let her know that her Prince Charming was a humongous piece of shit.

Besides, I’d always been a fan of canapés.

PART 2

the night in question

Chapter 16

Paula

The Night in Question

I finished my shift at the diner on Saturday and then hurried home to get ready for Emma’s dinner party.

I think, deep down, there was a part of me that knew that I would go the moment she’d invited me that day in the park, that each one of my promises to myself that I wouldn’t go had been as half-hearted as they’d been useless.