Page 12 of In Love With Mr. Wrong

Behind me, Margot snorts. “Wow. So commanding. He looks positively terrified.”

I take one bold step closer, determined to salvage my dignity, and promptly slip on the damp edge of the porch. My feet shoot out from under me, and I land flat on my back in the cold grass with a dull oof. Above me, the raccoon finally rises, hops down with exaggerated grace, and strolls off like he’s had enough of our nonsense.

I groan, staring up at the cloudy sky. “I’m fine. Thanks for your concern.”

The raccoon, finally offended, hops off the railing and saunters away like he’s seen enough.

I groan. “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

Margot’s laughing so hard she’s doubled over. “Oh my God. You just got owned by wildlife.”

“This place is cursed,” I mutter.

She reaches a hand down to help me up, still laughing. “No, this place is real.That’s the problem.”

We head back inside, both of us dripping with dew and dignity loss. But she’s still smiling, and weirdly, so am I.

9

MARGOT

I’m knee-deep in cross-referenced logs and unauthorized access reports when I realize I can’t find the one folder I actually need. Of course. Because nothing about this sabotage nightmare wants to cooperate. I fire off a message to Olivia, attaching the file path I remembered from my old desktop at headquarters:Can you pull this for me? Should be in the internal drive from Q4, marked ‘Foundations: Recalibrated.’I hit send, then go back to pacing the living room while Grayson hums off-tune in the kitchen and burns something that smells vaguely like toast.

Five minutes later, my phone buzzes. One new message from Olivia.

Olivia:Found your folder. But also… Margot?Beneath that is a PDF. I click it:State of Nevada Certificate of Marriage. My name. Grayson King. Dated nearly a year ago. The room goes quiet around me. My heartbeat does not.

“Grayson!”

He walks in holding a mug. “If it’s about the smoke detector, I already opened a window…”

“We’re married.”

He freezes. “...Come again?”

I hold up the screen. “Olivia found a marriage certificate.In Nevada. With our names on it.”

He takes the phone, squints. “Well, I’ll be damned. I always knew Vegas had a weird energy.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“I’m not laughing. I’m impressed.” He hands the phone back. “I mean, out of all the ways we could’ve ended up legally bound, this one has style.”

I drag a hand through my hair. “This has to be a mistake. Or a prank. Or, God, I don’t know. A blackout trip?”

Grayson leans against the doorframe, looking far too entertained. “We were in Vegas last year. For that investor conference.”

I blink. “No. No. We went out for one drink.”

“And I distinctly remember you declaring we needed to ‘marry our algorithm to the future.’”

“That was metaphorical!”

He grins. “Was it?”

I groan, spinning toward my laptop. “I need to find out what happened. There must be photos. Receipts. Security footage. A drive-thru Elvis witness.”

“I’ll make popcorn,” he says, already walking toward the kitchen.

---