Page 104 of Second Down Fake

“No more make out sessions for the publicity?”

I scratched my chin and shook my head. “Nope. Those stay.”

“I like it,” Noa said with a nod. “I know Lena would be thrilled if Cassie stuck around.”

“Well, count on it. She’s going to be so thoroughly romanced, she might not even travel back to New Hampshire at all, so overcome with lust and adoration.”

He laughed, pulling off his cleats and chucking them into his locker. “Maybe rethink the last part of that plan, Romeo. Becca’s already going to be a little prickly about you dating her sister, for real this time. I don’t think you need to tempt fate by making Cassie miss the holidays with her family.”

“Good point,” I conceded. “I’ll romance her enough that she spends the entire trip home convincing her sister not to kill me.”

“That sounds like a much better plan. Let me know how it goes.” He grinned. “If Becca doesn’t murder you, that is.”

* * *

Showered and dressed, I headed downtown with a plan in mind. First, a stop at a candy store. I bought the small mom-and-pop shop out of all their sour candy and a bunch of chocolate beside. Then, a flower shop for a ridiculously extravagant bouquet.

As I waited for the owner to stuff as many roses as she could into an arrangement, I called Cassandra again. Straight to voicemail. Undeterred, I pulled up another number.

“Crown & Copper. This is Kendall.”

“Hey, is Cassandra working?”

“Who’s asking?” Kendall’s friendly voice turned guarded.

“Diego. Diego Sal?—”

“No, I know,” Kendall interrupted, her voice softening. “She’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Back to New Hampshire. Permanently from the sound of it.”

I shook my head, unsure if I heard her correctly. “Wait, no. She’s just visiting for the holidays.”

“That’s not what she told me. She handed in her badge and everything.”

“When was she there?” I asked, panic gripping my voice.

None of this was right. Kendall must have been confused or misinformed.

“A couple of hours ago. She had a flight at two and stopped by to say goodbye to everyone. Which sucks because she’s a damn good bartender. The regulars loved her—” A loud commotion in the background cut her off. “Hey, I gotta go. Sorry, I can’t be any more help.”

The line went dead, leaving a pit in my stomach and alarm clenching my throat.

Gone.

No, that couldn’t be right. I called Cassandra again. Straight to voicemail, but the other missed call caught my eye.

James. James had seen her that morning.

“Diego, I had you on my list to call today. How do you feel about a brand sponsorship with?—”

“Where’s Cassandra?” I cut in.

“New Hampshire, I imagine.”

“What happened?” The owner walked out of the back of the store, the massive pink box in her hands. “Shit, give me a minute.”

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