Page 34 of Come Back to Me

Callan: I checked out the website. They stocked everything I figured she’d need.

Callan: I’ll find some other places.

Me: This is my home city, Baby Cowboy. I’ll figure it out.

It can’t be that damn hard. I might not have been to Saskatoon for a long time, but Maps is my friend.

Callan: Keep me updated about your location. I have someone scheduled to pick you up, but he can’t if we don’t know where you are

Me: I am a genius, you know? I managed to figure that out for myself!

Ignoring him now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, I tug on the curtain. “Zee, we’re going to bust out of this joint.”

Her brows lift. “But I need clothes.”

“You do, but associating with these assholes won’t get you anywhere in life. Babe, let’s face it,” I snipe. “Callan wouldn’t know how to appeal to the public if they offered, en masse, to sleep with him.”

“Be nice.”

“Callan is hot, he’s rich, and he’s smart, and some lucky chick is going to benefit from my education one day, but he needs to leave this to me.”

She snorts. “Because you routinely know how to appeal to the mass market?”

I pop my hip. “I can do anything I set my mind to. So, let’s get away from the snitty, snotty, snippy Sasquatches and do this our style.

“The Korhonens treat the Seven Cs like Olympus and we mere mortals gasp whenever they deign to visit the town. We know how to be normal. They don’t have it in them.”

“No, they don’t,” she muses. “Man, that’s hot.”

“I never said it wasn’t, but the goddesses always get a worse rap. If he’s Zeus, then you’re Hera.”

She gags. “Not Hera! Anyway, he’s not Zeus. Colt would never cheat on me.”

“True. Maybe Clyde’s Zeus then.” At that exact moment, a rumble sounds outside, making my eyes flare wide as lightning spears the sky.

“Oooh, you pissed off Zeus. That’s all we need,” she teases. “A lightning storm.”

I scrunch up my nose at her. “You know I’m right. This fancy shit will make you fit in with fellow gazillionaires, but this whole thing is about smoothing over the fact their father is a murderer. Dressing up will only make people think you’re one of them.”

“One of who?”

“Pod people.”

Though she snickers, she mutters, “I need a fancy dress for some of the events.”

“And we can make it fancy in clothes that everyday people wear by mixing and matching labels.”

Her gaze turns dubious. “I have to blend in, babe. This is already my idea of hell. If people turn up in twenty-million-dollar diamonds, as much as I love dresses that cost less than a hundred bucks, I’ll stick out like a sore thumb. I-I don’t want to embarrass Colt.”

“Bitch, you did not just say that!”

Her bottom lip gets sucked in between her teeth. “I mean, I?—”

Before she can finish that sentence, I swipe through my contacts for Colt’s number and hit connect.

“What are you doing?!”

“I’m fixing this right now.”

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