Page 89 of Daddies' Little Troublemaker

So I’m mad at myself, just as much as I am at Lincoln.

The inspection ends. Everything is looking good.

“I don’t know why we don’t leave this in Sims’s hands and fuck off to the next job,” I say as Lincoln and I take the construction elevator down to the ground. “It’s not like we have anything to keep us around.”

“Don’t fucking say that. Evie’s coming back.”

“She isn’t responding to our texts,” I say. “She’s moving on. In her mind, there’s nothing to come back to.”

He whirls around and looks as if he’ll throw a punch. His hardhat is crooked and his nostrils flare.

“Go ahead, hit me,” I say. “I know you’re pissed. Let it out. Doesn’t fucking change the fact that you fucked up.”

“Fuck you, you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” I stand taller, squaring off against him. “When it came time for you to actually admit your feelings, you fucking flinched.”

It’s as if all the energy leaves him, and he deflates.

“I didn’t hear you volunteering your undying love, either,” he mutters.

“You’re right.” The elevator brings us down and we step out into the bright sunlight. I blink against it, shielding my eyes from the truth. “We both fucked up.”

* * *

Evelyn

Today’s the day that Antoine is supposed to meet me in the twentieth arrondissement to look at the company housing available to me.

Before I leave the hotel, I see yet another text from Troy, begging me to get back together.

No, I write. Then I text my mom. Troy is still trying to talk to me.

She writes back, Stop inserting yourself into their relationship.

When she says that, it makes me want to shut down entirely. Still, I persist, Chloe still wants to go through with this wedding when he’s talking to me?

She does, Mom writes back. Leave her alone, and leave Troy alone. None of this is about you.

I arrive late, having gone down to the metro going the wrong freaking direction—a rookie move, but I blame my distraction on my mother—and Antoine is waiting for me. Instead of looking annoyed, his face brightens when he sees me.

“Evelyn!” He steps forward and does the two-kisses-on-the-cheeks thing in greeting. “Ça va?”

“Ça va,” I say.

“And you are ready to see the beautiful apartment that can be yours?” He stands to the side and opens his arms like he’s displaying a priceless artifact.

“I’m ready,” I say.

He unlocks the front door and we step into a little lobby. “It isn’t Palace Everbleu, but it isn’t the worst.”

“Palace Everbleu? Is that in France?”

He gives me a shocked look. “No, it’s the home of the Caperna royal family. Surely you know this? Caperna is so close to California, is it not?”

“It is, but I don’t go there or anything.”

“You haven’t caught sight of the princess, even? She travels to Los Angeles and San Esteban quite often.”

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