Page 12 of Accidental Mile High Daddy
Of course she wasn’t the problem. Of coursehewas.
And I’d slept with her.
I leaned back in my chair, the weight of the revelation pressing against my spine, and dragged my hand down my face, willing air into my lungs.
She washis.His ex, his mistake, his mess. And somehow I’d managed to walk right into the fucking middle of it despite trying my absolute best to keep distance for my peace of mind. But Ryan had been busy lately. I knew that much. Knew that he’d flipped on a dime and started begging me for money out the wazoo, far more than usual. Knew he’d bought a ring. Knew he movedfastwith whoever he was with now, and I didn’t have much of a choice when it came to paying for it.
Knew he was marrying her after only a month of being broken up with Sienna.
Knew I was footing the bill for it.
Maybe unintentionally sleeping with Sienna hadn’t been shoving myself into his mess. Maybe it was anopportunity. Sienna wasn’t simply a mistake, no, she was aturning point, a key. She was a part of the debris Ryan always left in his wake, a face in a sea of ruined trust funds, ruined friendships, ruined women. But this time, the damage wasn’t abstract, spoken through a telephone call or a text message. It wasn’t distant.
This time I’d touched it.
Tasted it.
And I had a chance to not just stand by now.
The image of her in that first-class lounge, chin high, voice sharp, wearing that little yellow sundress like she had something to prove, flashed in my head. She didn’t even know who I was. She had no idea what she’d stepped into, and yet, she’d held her ground like she was ready to go down swinging. She’d walked into first class and took the damn trip anyway.
That wasn’t desperation, that was grit.
And that was useful.
I knew Ryan. I knew his insecurities. His ego was a house of cards just waiting for a gust of wind, and Sienna couldbethat. Not if I manipulated her, not if I pushed her into something she didn’t want, but if I offered her something, if it was mutually beneficial…
Maybe she wanted revenge. Maybe she just wanted control over her life again. Either way, I could give her that.
I could give her amatch. I could watch her set him on fire. I could burn him down with her.
Chapter 5
Sienna
Teachers probably shouldn’t drink in places where the bathroom soap costs more than what my hourly wage breaks down to.
That was the consensus Jules and I had come to as our overpriced martinis clinked together at the too-glossy cocktail bar nestled into the edge of downtown Atlanta. It was the kind of swanky velvet-and-glass spot where the lighting was low enough to makeeveryoneattractive and the prices high enough to make sure only therightkind of attractive people stuck around.
Jules, naturally, fit in without even trying. Her sleek black dress, meticulously styled ringlets, and perfectly paired gold jewelry made her look simultaneously scandalous andrich. Her lashes were curled perfectly, her lipstick blood red against her darker skin tone, her grin sharp as a knife. No one would know she taught in a criminally underfunded school.
I, on the other hand, was wearing a dress I got on final clearance two summers ago at Ross and shoes that pinched in one place and slipped in another. The waves in my hair were fighting the Atlanta humidity, my makeup was rushed since I hadn’t had the luxury of booking Jules' birthday off work, and Ihad exactly eighty-nine dollars left in my checking account until payday seven days from now.
“I swear to God,” I said, sipping the last of my martini down like it was liquid gold, “if they charge me twelve dollars for tap water, I’m leaving.”
Jules snorted. “You say that every time we go out.”
“Imeanit every time we go out. Especially this time.”
I pushed up and out of my chair in a huff as she giggled, turning to one of her other friends I hadn’t even bothered to learn the name of because I’d been so far in my own head all night. All of the last two weeks, really.
When I’d gotten off that barstool on the flight, I thought I’d be able to forget about it. I thought I’d be able to file the man with the gravel voice and the hands that ruined all logic away in a neat little box inside of my head, thought I could wipe away the way he’d made me whimper against his palm, or the way he’d made mecomewithout direct stimulation for the first time in my goddamn life like some kind of weird body whisperer.
I might have been able to if I hadn’t heard his name.
I still hadn’t told Jules what happened. It wasn’t the kind of thing you justsaid, not when the man in question was Ryan’s fucking brother.
I wove through the small sea of tables and velvet booths, heading for the bar tucked into a glowing nook surrounded by an absurd amount of potted plants and hanging ivy. The cocktail bar was loud, but not from music — it was all laughter and murmured conversations and drinks clinking, low beats of money and indulgence that I’d once again found myself in despite not being a part of it. Jules’ fault.
