“You need to step it up, Romeo,” my grandmother tells Jonah. “The next Rolex ceremony is tomorrow night.”

“I’m doing the best I can,” he complains. “My virgin strategy is working.”

“It’s not,” she snaps. “It’s feeble.” Then she reaches out and plays with one of the buttons on his sweater. “Anyone who looks at you can tell you’re not a virgin.” There’s something flirtatious about the way she says it, and I cringe, glancing at my sisters to see them do the same.

He grins. “Yeah, I guess I didn’t think that part through. But she thinks I gave her the dog. We’re golden.”

“You need to reveal, on air, that Marcus has a girlfriend.”

“Hedoes?” Jonah asks eagerly.

She shrugs. “I’ve hired someone to say she’s his girlfriend. It comes down to the same thing. It’ll ruin his chances, and I’ll convince Kennedy that choosing you will make for the best narrative. But I expect you to come through with your end of the bargain.” She gives him a shrewd look and hands him a file folder that looks like it’s full of oversized photos. “Or else I’ll be sending these directly to Jonah Highbury the Fourth.”

He flips the folder open, winces. “Maeve,” he says, “I thought we werefriends.”

She snorts. “I don’t have friends. I have people who are useful to me and people who are not.”

“Fuck,” I blurt. Every time I think my grandmother couldn’t possibly be a worse human being, she goes and surprises me.

“Indeed,” Ivy says.

“Indubitably,” Holly adds.

Bryn, who’s always had a thing for having the last word, says, “Precisely.”

We watch as Nana turns and leaves the room, as Jonah continues to flip through the photos.

“It’s a smoking gun,” I say in wonder, because Harry could have hardly hoped for a better indictment of my grandmother. Although it pains me to admit it, it’ll also make for some good TV if they can figure out a way to use it. Then again, I’m betting both my grandmother and Jonah have already signed releases for video footage for the show. This is video footage made for the show.

“It’s not over,” Holly says with great pleasure. “Keep watching.”

Sure enough, Jonah sits down by the empty pool, looking through those photos, then pulls a lighter out of his pocket and flicks it on, feeding it one photo and then another. They all catch. He sets them down on the tiles next to the empty pool, so he probably thinks what he’s doing is safe enough. Still, he stays until they’re smoldering, no longer in flames.

Then the fucking idiot walks away.

He slams the door, probably pissed about getting blackmailed by my grandmother—not as rare of an event as one would hope—and the curtain rod tumbles down, taking the curtain with it. The curtain doesn’t catch fire immediately, but I can see where this is going.

“Holy shit,” I say.

“See,” Harry tells me a little smugly. “You maligned me. Jonah’s the one who started that fire. I had nothing to do with it.”

I’m shocked, blown away, but I still have to laugh. “Whichever way you look at it, he’s the one who started it. Either with shitty cookies or burning evidence.” One of my buddies at the scene told me the cookie story after the flames finally died down. I lift my eyebrows. “You think those were pictures of him and Nana together?”

“I watched it frame by frame,” Harry says. “They were.”

Part of me is disappointed by what this means. The show will go on, obviously. They have a narrative that’s sure to excite people. This means that Kennedy will have to—

“I feel it’s important for us all to be honest with each other, right?” Holly asks. “Didn’t we decide that?”

Ivy lifts a hand. “I was not present during that discussion, but I agree that we should, in this instance, be brutally honest with Rowan.”

Holly rolls her eyes. “You’re temporarily off the hook for telling us about what’s going on with you, but only because we’re busy speaking our truth to Rowan.”

Our sister nods. “I’ll take it.”

“You’re in love with Kennedy,” Harry tells me. It’s not a question.

“Did she tell you that?”