Page 173 of Between the Lines

All thanks to Charlotte…

I add Aiden’s name, and then, after a second of hesitation, change the surname on my search.

Charlotte Richards.

And things start pouring in.

I click on the first video that comes up. It takes me to a social media app. One of the many I’ve been avoiding.

The world crashes around me as I listen.

A woman on the screen. Cheerful, in a bright-blue blouse. She talks over the rolling footage of blonde me at that Mexico resort.

And then, she cuts to an image of me with Aiden. We’re walking out of the fancy restaurant. Our first date, where we later met a group of people who recognized me. The screen-me is looking up at Aiden.

It’s clearly me. And obviously him. His arm is wrapped around my shoulders.

The headline is what makes my heart stutter.

The Gamble’s Sugar Puff is now dating the billionaire owner of Titan Media, the production company responsible for the show.

The text below isn’t much better.

Aiden Hartman, the billionaire son of the now criminally convicted Alfred Hartman (yes, that one), seems to have found a girlfriend. And it’s not a supermodel or a European heiress.

Another picture. This time it’s me—crying, hysterical, standing in front of Blake by a pool. My mascara is smudged and my mouth is open. I know what picture-me is about to scream.

But I’m your little Sugar Puff.

Charlotte Richards made The Gamble a worldwide sensation. Spoken about at water coolers across the globe, Sugar Puff is responsible for the series’ unprecedented success. She’s kept a low profile since her time on the show, but now it seems like she’s not done with life in the spotlight.

My hands shake, holding the phone.Spotlight.I look around, but no one is paying me any attention. No one is staring or whispering to their friends.

Just in case, I pull my cap lower on my face.

The paranoia is the worst. It’s something I’ve worked hard to overcome, to get rid of the feeling that there are always eyes on me, always murmurings, always attention.

It’s lessened more and more with each passing year.

But this? Can I handle it starting again?

It won’t take long before this makes its way to my family. These sorts of things grow, get big on social media. Someone sees it and sends the post to someone else.

Didn’t you go to school with that girl?

In all of fifteen minutes, it could get forwarded to a family member or childhood friend back in Elmhurst.

Which means my parents will know everything in a few hours. Maybe in a day. But no longer than that.

Panic grips me with an icy hand. I pull out of the parking lot and start the drive up to Bel Air. But I go past Aiden’s house and continue on.

Aimlessly taking curve after curve.

My phone rings. I hear it but ignore it.

The memoir is a thick bunch of papers, all stuck inside a manila envelope. Lying on the passenger seat beside me. I need to deliver it before I can… before I can do anything.

My phone rings for the fifth time, and I look at the console to see who it is.

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