Page 15 of All's Fair in Love and Blackmail

Of course you will!!! You are strong, intelligent, well-adapted children!!!

We leave for the airport tomorrow morning at six!!! Cyrus I expect you to be there or to come by this evening so we can say goodbye!!!

Cy

Okay

Mom

WE LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!!!!!!

It is not fun,the “something fun” we end up doing after going to say goodbye to our parents—who are leaving tomorrow morning to embark upon their ten-month round-the-world cruise. Our “fun” is a movie at Lucky’s historic theater, an action film that came out months ago.

We only end up here because we let Aurora pick, and she didn’t want to admit that she was close to tears after saying goodbye. So instead of going home and crying normally like me and Juliet would do, we’re all crying here in the theater instead, watching things blow up in high def.

“I’m going to bed,” I say as soon as we get home. It’s been a long day, full of way too much sugar and a lot of emotions and—an irritable little buzz dances over my skin—a deal with Felix Caine that will be a supreme test of patience and will.

I can’t believe he’s holding the Pageant Incident over my head. In fact—I frown—how did he even know about that? How did he figure out that wasme?

“That’s wildly humiliating,” I mutter as I climb the stairs, pushing those memories away. “At least he doesn’t know about the article I wrote.”

Yet.

But he’s working at the Four-Leaf Gazette, and now he’s making me help him research. How long before he mentions my name casually and someone tells him I interned there? And then what if he wants to read the stuff I wrote? And then what if he finds out?—

Stop it. He’s not going to find out anything. He’s not going to mention your name, and even if he did, no one is going to remember you interned there. If someone did remember, Felix still wouldn’t care about reading your old articles.

So there. I’m safe.

I don’t know what made me open my mouth and tell him I had a list of things I wanted to do. I don’t actually need his help. My plan is still under development, anyway. It’s been percolating in my mind since my little motorcycle scuffle—since, for a brief second, I genuinely thought I was going to die.

There aren’t a lot of things I regret in my life. But the discontented feeling that sent me on that ride in the first place—it’s grown, evolved, and it’s made me realize that there are a few things I would change.

I love my job at the Pampered Pup, even if it has nothing to do with my degree. I’m happy with my relationships with my family. But after I almost hit that car, I thought it might be time to try some new things—hobbies I’ve always been interested in, places I want to see, maybe even new relationships. I want a husband and a family of my own one day, after all, and they aren’t going to fall out of the sky and into my waiting arms.

Besides, I need something to take my mind off how scary that almost-crash was. I didn’t know I was such a wimp, but I guess I am. So I’m going to knock out my list of things I would regret if I died tomorrow—turn that scary experience into a positive one. And Felix Caine, my blackmailer?

I guess he’s going to help me.

FELIX

I pullout my phone to call India on Monday after work.

I’m not really the kind of person who procrastinates or puts things off. I figure if you have to do something, you might as well get it over with. No point in delaying the inevitable; just do it and then move on.

But I actually find myself hesitating as my finger hovers over India’s newly saved number in my phone—listed asSunshine,of course. I know this is a good move, and Herb, editor-in-chief and my boss, looked thrilled earlier when I told him I was making headway on my research.

Of course, that was before he started hinting at something big coming up for us, an opportunity he was trying to lock down. He looked excited enough that I’m not sure how much attention he was actually paying to me or my plans. Still, he did seem to be giving me the green light to move forward with India.

There’s just a little voice in the back of my mind, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Cyrus, pointing out that India is a part of my life for good, so I’d better not screw anything up.

I take a deep breath, tell that voice to be quiet because ofcourseI’m not going to screw anything up, and then hitCall.

“Sunshine,” I say when she picks up.

“Felicia,” she says in a flat voice, and a wide smile splits across my face.

I make my way across the parking lot, phone pressed to my ear with one hand as I dig for my keys with the other. “Should we pick a date?” I say. “We can do the first round of sightseeing and then I can chauffeur you all over town for your mysterious project.”

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