“It’s the truth. Don’t be like us. It’s a habit that’s fucking hard to break, and I’m working my ass off to prove to you that I have.”

She’s quiet for a moment. “I don’t think I have a choice at this point. You know what my biggest worry is right now? Not that the press will get to me, but that my cousin is going to go to them.”

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who she’s talking about. Fucking Karma. I will never forget that she sold me out. I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could throw her.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Whitney shakes her head. “Pray, maybe. But wait, it gets even better. And by better . . . I mean worse.”

“What?”

“This reporter said Ricky had a mistress, and she dumped him at the same time I filed for divorce. She said that’s why he killed himself. She wants me to tell my side of the story and exonerate myself.”

“A mistress?”

She nods. “Apparently.”

I search Whitney’s face, trying to decide how she feels about this, but all I see is resignation. “You never suspected?”

“No. But I guess I should have. He fed me one pile of bullshit after another.”

She looks up toward the ceiling, blinking back tears that make me wish Rango was alive so I could beat the hell out of him.

Whitney shakes her head with a sniffle. “I shouldn’t even be surprised anymore. What kills me the most is that I’m trying so fucking hard to focus on the positive, but I know something worse is coming. I don’t know what, but I feel it. Karma hates me. She’s just waiting for her chance to do something awful, and I don’t know how much more I can handle. All I want is some goddamn peace in my life, and I can’t help feeling like that’s never going to happen, no matter how hard I try.”

Her body shakes as tears trail down her face. I hate hearing her sound so defeated, especially after the sexy display of confidence she showed last night.

I pull Whitney against me and wrap my arms around her. “You’re going to have your peace. I swear to Christ, you’ll have it, even if it’s the last thing I do.” I press my cheek to her hair.

“Don’t say that. You can’t make that promise either.”

Her statement proves that she doesn’t know me that well. “I can and I will. Starting with tomorrow night.”

“What’s tomorrow night?”

“You and me and Hunter and Cricket. We’re going to have that dinner. Away from everyone. No press. No pressure. Just . . . peace.” I tilt her chin up to meet my gaze. “Just say yes. I’ll take care of the rest.”

She stares at my face as though she’s looking for answers, and I sure as hell hope she finds them. Because when I look into her eyes, I see everything I’ve ever wanted, and I’m not letting it slip away again.