Page 84 of Eye Candy

[GIF of a superhero pointing at an identical superhero, also pointing]

Mostly, I’m sorry to Floss.

I won’t fix things. But I can walk them back a bit, so you have a fair chance.

I’ll do the least, Floss. The rest is up to you.

—Chase Sanford,The Moral Fix

CHAPTER 31

CAROLINE

The first timeI read Chase’s blog was in the kitchen at the café, as my dad read over my shoulder.

The second time was after packing my bags. The third, fourth, and fifth times were on the first leg of the flight back to America. He’dnamed himself as the author.And he’d written tome.

He’d put everything out there.

After two flights, four coffees, thirty minutes of sleep, and three security scans, I was in the Houston airport eating an awful burger and waiting for my next flight. I’d just swapped my phone back onto American networks when it rang.

When I saw the name, I debated not answering, but curiosity prevailed.

“How’s my favorite scamming showgirl?” a pleasant voice asked.

“I hate you.”

Gerard made a hurt sound, which was as faux as the fur collars he liked to wear. “Bygones, Kiwi. My stepbrother isn’t madat me anymore, so it’s not very rock ’n’ roll of you to hold a grudge.”

I pushed my food away, frowning. Chase had been all,investigators and lawyers and bodyguards, oh my!He’d been furious. Was this what he had meant about walking things back?

Gerard guessed what I was thinking.

“Chase said he’d drop his lawyers’ trumped-up charges if I gave you the artist’s residency in New York. Or you can have Toronto if you want. I don’t care. I know you went back to Smallville?—”

“Woodville.”

“Like I said. But Chase said to tell you the gig at Dragonfly is yours if you want it. No strings. There’s an accommodation stipend and all that jazz—it’s the same deal we give all the resident performers. I’m a man of my word, Caroline, and I was going to sort this for you, but you went and fucked the mark!” He clicked his tongue. “That was bad form. I wanted him wrapped in scandal. You were supposed to be publicly humiliating the arrogant, sanctimonious jerk. Not making him happier than I’ve ever seen him.”

“He’s a good man, Gerard. Really.”

He grunted. “Yes, I know. Perfect Mr. Moral. The golden son.”

“Heis, Gerard. He could have pressed charges. Against both of us.”

“But he won’t. He loves you, and he finally feels guilty about his dad treating me like crap and ditching my mom the second someone else caught his eye.”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Should I tell him you’re staying in New Zealand and you told me to stick my residency up my ass?” Gerard asked, sounding hopeful.

I made up my mind.

“No. Tell him I’m back in New York and I’m playing your club on Saturday.” I pictured Gerard’s jaw dropping as he stared at hisphone and added, “I want the nine p.m. slot, right before intermission.”

“That’s Thor’s. He does his Protector of Ass-guard routine then.”

“Give him the first slot after intermission. Or set him up to fail and give him five p.m. on a Thursday.”

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