Page 55 of Rockstar Next Door Neighbor

Speaking of the devil, Marcus Davidson descends the curved staircase like he’s making an entrance. “Luke, my boy! Welcome to the family—officially, that is.”

His handshake is too firm, his smile too sharp. I think of Jaxson’s warnings and match his grip. “Marcus. Quite the surprise announcement.”

“Oh, sometimes you have to take initiative in life.” He steers us toward his study. “Crystal, give us a moment to discuss business?”

She pouts but complies, leaving me alone with the man who’s trying to destroy my family’s legacy. The study is exactly what you’d expect—oversized desk, pretentious art, everything designed to intimidate.

“Drink?” He doesn’t wait for my answer, pouring two fingers of scotch that probably costs more than most people make in a week.

“The announcement was premature,” I say, accepting the glass but not drinking.

“Nonsense.” He settles behind his desk. “The timing is perfect. Sterling Motors’ stock jumped three points just on the rumor of our families officially joining forces.”

Of course, it did because that was his plan all along.

“The celebration dinner,” I say instead of what I want to. “Saturday night?”

“Excellent.” His smile widens. “Crystal’s already invited half of Jacksonville’s society pages. Your father will attend, of course?”

“He’s still not feeling well—“

“Insist.” The word carries steel beneath its polish. “It would look... unfortunate if he missed his only son’s engagement celebration.”

I grip my glass tighter, thinking of Jaxson’s timeline. I just have to play this game for three weeks.

“I’ll make sure he’s there.”

“Perfect.” Marcus stands. “Now, let’s not keep my daughter waiting. She’s already talking about venue options.”

The drive home is a blur of anger and frustration. My phone rings—Dad.

“The announcement’s already online,” he says without preamble. “Son, you don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do.” I stare out at the darkening sky. “Just for a little while longer. Jaxson, the PI, is close to having everything we need.”

“Luke—“

“Three weeks, Dad. That’s all we need. Can you trust me that long?”

A long pause. “I trust you. But this game Marcus is playing—it’s dangerous.”

“I know.” I think of Lila, of how understanding she’ll be, and how that almost makes it worse. “The celebration dinner is Saturday night. Marcus was insistent that you attend.”

“Of course he was.” Dad sighs. “What time?”

“Eight, at The Capital Grille.”

“I’ll be there.” Another pause. “Have you talked to Lila?”

“No.” The word feels like glass in my throat. “But I will—I’m headed home now. Jaxson suggested we not spend time together.”

“Ah.” So much understanding in that single syllable. “She’s tougher than she looks, son.”

“That’s what scaresme.”

After we hang up, I continue the drive home. I enter my apartment, walk out onto the back deck, and wait for Lila to join me.

She opens the sliding glass door, still wearing her apron, flour dusted across one cheek.

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