Page 44 of Score to Settle
She gives me a dismissive wave as our food arrives—two large plates of chicken salad with fries on the side. “I was doing you a favor. Besides, I could’ve told him you killed bunny rabbits inyour spare time and he’d still have looked at you all googly-eyed. The sexual tension between you two is off the charts.”
“No way.” I shake my head.
“The hell it isn’t. So if you want me to book a hotel tonight for me and Edward so you and Jake can have my apartment, that’s cool with me.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively.
I bark a laugh. “Don’t you dare. Jake will be at the ranch tonight. And even if he wasn’t, nothing would happen between us.”
“I’m just being a good friend,” she says, popping a French fry into her mouth.
“Being a pimp, more like.” I laugh, deciding not to mention that with Dylan and Mama in LA for the next six days, Jake and I have Oakwood Ranch to ourselves. The last thing I need is Mia’s encouragement. I already feel like my professionalism is now hanging by the same tenuous thread as my career.
Mia grins, taking a long sip of her cocktail. When she fixes her gaze on me again, her expression is serious. “There’s something I have to tell you about Jake.”
“What is it?” I ask, my stomach knotting although I’m not sure why.
“Don’t be mad, but I spoke to Serena about the article you wrote on Jake.”
Heat floods my face. “Mia!”
“I didn’t mention you. I swear. I was super vague. I just asked if she remembered it, and get this—she swears Chase told her back then that Jake told him he didn’t make the copies. One of his friends did. Remember Bruno Arnolds?”
“Vaguely.” Jake told Chase who told Serena who told Mia, who’s now telling me. My head spins with how much this conversation sounds like high school.
“Apparently he snatched it from Jake’s locker and made copies before Jake even got to see it. And I know that doesn’texcuse what he said to his friends, but it kind of makes it not so bad, doesn’t it?”
I nod slowly. There’s still a pang of hurt when I think about what Jake said that day.I’d rather die than meet the loser who wrote that!Those words crushed me. Broke my heart. Destroyed my confidence. Made me think I wasn’t good enough to be treated well in relationships. Made me question every decision I made. Except—can I really blame Jake for all of those things? I have a dad who’s barely been there my whole life, a mom who died before I was old enough to remember her, not to mention having my fair share of teen hang-ups about myself and my body. And yet, all this time, as I’ve mostly steered clear of men to work on my own confidence, I’ve blamed Jake. Hated him for it.
Realization is hot beneath my skin. Jake might’ve been an idiot in high school, but I’ve been one ever since.
TWENTY
HARPER
JAKE:What’s your dress like?
HARPER:It’s red.
JAKE:Send me a photo.
HARPER:Nope.
JAKE:Want to know what I’m wearing right now?
HARPER:No!
Notes for feature: Jake Sullivan can switch from serious to playful to sweeping you off your feet all within the same minute. Considering his abilities on the football field, it’s no surprise he’s just as astute at reading people and situations away from it.
The twenty-sixth floor of the Arquette Media building is a huge open space with floor-to-ceiling windows providing a panoramic view of the glittering Denver skyline at night. Circular tables draped in white linen fill the room, each set with gleaming china and cut-glass stemware. There’s a stage to one side deckedwith a glittering Christmas tree and a band playing instrumental Christmas classics.
In the center of the room is a large dance floor made of glossy parquet. Waiters in crisp white shirts glide between tables with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres. An ice sculpture of the sweeping “A” of the Arquette Media logo sits on the bar, slowly melting under the heat of the lights.
Everywhere I look, Denver’s elite business owners, VIPs, and journalists mingle in tuxedos and ball gowns. Even with my hair blow-dried until shining and swept to one side, an hour spent on makeup, and a floor-length red silk dress that I know I look good in, I feel out of place. These are the movers and shakers of the media world, the titans Mia’s family is part of. I cringe inwardly at what they must be thinking when they look at me. George Cassidy’s daughter trying to follow in his footsteps but fired from her internship atInsight.
Nerves twist in my stomach. I don’t belong among these people, and after what happened in New York, I never will. But Dad wants me here for appearances and so I’ll drink the champagne, eat the food, and clap in all the right places, while spending the evening avoiding Scott.
Except when I make my way to the table and find my place name, there are only two other names I recognize. Dad’s. And Scott’s. Of course my ex is seated next to me. A memory crashes into my thoughts from the last time we saw each other, standing on the street in downtown New York. Me with a cardboard box of my belongings in my hands, fighting back tears. Scott with a smug grin on his face.
I heard what happened,he said, throwing a hand up to hail a cab.There are winners in this world and there are losers, Harper. Not everyone has what it takes to be a winner.He disappeared into a cab without a backward glance, leaving me to catch the subway back to the apartment I could no longer afford.
