Page 120 of The Best Friend Power Play

I'm furious, and he is as well. I can tell they're heading toward a big fight, so I decide to shut my mouth and not add any more fuel to that fire. I tell him I'll call him later and leave him to deal with things.

There's a hesitant knock on the door, then it opens a crack. "Is it safe to come in?"

"Of course."

Hannah slowly enters the room.

In three giant strides, I'm standing in front of her. "I am so sorry about this."

"It's not your fault," she says. "What did Malik say?"

"It was her. Probably revenge for me shutting her down at the family dinner."

"You've already said no to her so many times…"

"That probably didn't help, either."

"Do you really think she'd be that petty?"

"She's the kind of person who says terrif instead of terrific. Does that answer your question?"

Hannah let out a small grin. "Tells me everything I need to know."

"And how are you feeling? With the hangover, I mean?"

"Breakfast and aspirin helped. So did showering. I'm, like, seventy percent better."

"That's good."

It's something, at least. I step away from Hannah and rake my hand through my hair, feeling overwhelmed.

My love life has received media attention before, but it's never felt this real, this close to home, this…intrusive before.

I guess that's because, one, it involves Hannah and I love and want to protect her at all costs.

And because, two, I've never had a big secret to hide before.

The last thing I want is to have the media snooping around my life and uncovering that we actually got married just so I could get an inheritance from my grandfather.

"I need to give my manager a quick call," I tell her. "This will be boring. Go hang out with the kids. I'm sure they're dying to spend time with you."

"Are you sure? I don't mind staying."

"Yeah. I am. Thank you, though."

Hannah leaves, and I call my manager, who dials in a few of the exec leadership team from the LA Swifts as my quick call morphs into an impromptu crisis meeting. I'm on the phone so long my phone dings with a low battery notification.

When I look out the window, it's getting dark.

While I've been on the phone, Hannah has tiptoed into the room from time to time, leaving a glass of water, even a sandwich at one point with a note attached to it: Made by Katie = safe to eat, xo.

I collapse onto her bed, exhausted.

The door opens. "Are you done?"

"Yeah." I wave her in. "I feel like I could do with a beer—berry smoothie," I switch to at the last minute since the last thing Hannah probably wants to think about is alcohol.

"So, what's the deal?" she asks, sitting down on the bed.

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