Page 141 of One Wealthy Wedding

He shifts, and I let him turn, until he’s looking down at me with that bleak expression. “You’re the only one who believes in me, Cat.”

“That’s not true,” I say fiercely.

“Nah. It is. I’m used to it. I’m the good time guy. Nothing more.” His words are nonchalant but his face is anguished.

“You might think the worst of yourself, but I refuse to,” I tell him.

Before he can object, I press my face to his chest and wrap my arms around him in a hug that mimics a straitjacket, squeezing him tightly, because I’ll do anything to make him see that’s not true. In my head, a plan to starts to take shape. One that will help Theo get the legacy he’s always wanted.

I end up at the door to Lane and Miles’s suite that night. Theo is working, and I can’t ruminate on my father’s words anymore. I’m going to go insane.

I knock, and Lane answers the door. She’s wearing a huge fluffy robe and has her hair up in a bun. I look down at my own robe and laugh.

“Hi, there,” she says.

“Who is it?” Miles’s voice comes from behind her. “I told you. We have plenty of champagne and—oh. Hey, Cat.”

Miles is wearing a robe too. I press my hand to my mouth and try not to laugh at how comically small it is on him.

“Am I interrupting?” I ask.

“Oh, no,” Lane says sweetly.

Miles glowers at her.

“I need to talk to someone,” I say, suddenly uncertain. Lane and I are friends, but not like that. Not enough for me to chase her boyfriend out of their suite and spill my problems onto her lap.

“Miles will find somewhere else to go,” she says. “Come in.”

“I will?” the man in question asks with raised brows. “But we were going to—”

“Sweetheart.” Lane gives him a meaningful look.

“Got it.” He raises his hands and heads for their room.

Lane is texting. “I’m getting Callie. Is that okay?”

“Sure. Of course.” I flop onto the massive couch. Callie arrives as Miles is heading out.

“Jonah will hang out with you,” she tells him.

“Is he done being pissy about that deal we didn’t win?” Miles asks.

“No.” She shrugs. “Help him let off some steam before I kill him, please.”

Callie smiles at me as Miles leaves. She seems lovely, and I guess she would have to be in order to survive Jonah. Not survive, thrive, if the way he’s wrapped around her finger is any indication.

“Girls’ night?” she asks, settling onto the couch and pulling the champagne bucket toward her. “Oh, Lane, you got the good stuff.”

“Yes, well, much to Miles’s disappointment, our plans for that champagne have been derailed.” Lane smiles meaningfully.

“I can go,” I say. “I don’t want to interrupt your plans. They sound…energetic.”

Lane and Callie laugh.

“It’s fine.” Lane waves her hand in the air. “I’m curious.”

“And I’m nosy,” Callie adds. “Reporter. Sorry.” She gives an unrepentant grin and starts pouring champagne.

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