Page 73 of Broken Princess

“Since when are you a slave to your phone?” Dad asks, lowering his device to the table.

Apparently since Jordanna’s not answering my calls or texts until she feels like it. Sometimes that feeling doesn’t hit until hours later. “Just waiting on a call.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask, how are things at school.”

“Great.”

“Really? There’s been no blow back from what happened? And before you answer, I’ve talked to Max. He wanted me to know I could relax because he’s fairly certain Isabelle Lance won’t be fighting me for a VP slot at McKay Media.”

“It’s not what you think, dad.”

“I think not three months after the last bet ended, you’ve somehow entered into another one with the same stakes. So tell me how this is different.”

“I swear to you I haven’t made a new bet. This was just me ensuring there was no way Bella could reignite the terms of the old one. You taught me to be thorough. This is me doing that.”

That seems to satisfy him. Did I expect secrecy from the family lawyer? Not really, but I also wasn’t expecting my dad to be concerned enough about it to mention it. He’s only just loosened the requirement that I show up for every party, meeting or event he attends. If he thinks I’m about to do something stupid, he’ll probably figure out a way to force me to move home and commute to school. I’ll never be able to avoid his horrible attempts at matchmaking if that happens.

Looking at my phone again, I resist the urge to throw it across the room. Where is she and why isn’t she answering? As if she can sense the direction my thoughts are heading, a new alert pops up on Prospectus. I click the notification, staring at the picture. She’s about an hour from here, spending time with her family. I’m less pissed. But not much.

Somehow, I made it through what turned out to be a pleasant dinner. Or at least the parts I didn’t zone out for, were. Dad and I drove separate cars to the restaurant, and now I’m pulling up in front of Jordanna’s house, uninvited. Slowly the door opens and I’m staring down at some high schooler with goop all over her face. I’ve seen pictures of Summer, this isn’t her.

“Hi.”

“Ciara, who’s at the door?” Someone calls from somewhere in the house.

“I don’t know, but whoever he is, he’s hot.” The smirk and appraising look she gives is the only sign I need, to know that in a few more years, she’s gonna be trouble.

“I’m Logan.”

“What can I do for you, Logan? Car break down and you need a phone?” She pulls one from her pocket. “By all means, use mine and program your number in it while you’re at it.”

Did I say a few years? She’s trouble now.

“Ciara, what’s taking you…” The girl who walks up behind herisSummer. “Well uh, yeah. I can see what the hold up is.” She narrows her eyes at me. “No comment, and tell your boss that just because they send a cute news vulture out here to the house doesn’t change that our answer is and will always be, no comment.”

“I’m not with any paper.”

“No? Cause you look like you are. You’ve got that newspaper feel to your aura.”

As Jordanna’s sister, I guess she would know all about newspaper auras. “Let me rephrase. I work for my school’s paper. I’m the editor for The Guild.”

“You’re Jordanna’s boss? Doesn’t change the fact that we’re not giving interviews. So no comment, and might I say it’s pretty sleazy of you to try to get an exclusive when I know she’s already told you that our position is NO COMMENT!”

That last part brings Jordanna to the door. Her eyes blazing, ready to do battle with whoever is upsetting her sister. Spotting me does nothing to relax her posture or subdue the murderous glint in her eyes. Someone plotting my demise shouldn’t look this hot, but she does. I can’t get enough of her fight. I avert my gaze and think of something else so I don’t inappropriately show the teens a boner.

“What are you doing here, Logan?”

“Not looking for a scoop.” I say for Summer’s benefit. Giving her a reassuring smile, I refrain from saying what I am here looking for. I get the feeling admitting I’m here to fuck her sister wouldn’t go over so well.

“You girls go back inside. I’ll be in, in a second.”

“I don’t trust him.” Summer whispers to Ciara as they walk away.

“Neither do I.” Jordanna says, hands on her hips.

Bracing my arms on either side of the door, I lean forward. “Aren’t you gonna invite me in?”

“To the one place in my life you haven’t contaminated? Why don’t you tell me why you’re here and then I’ll decide if I want to let you inside.”

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