Page 12 of Don't Make Me Beg
“Can’t you see what you’ve done?” Fergus calls out. “The moment we all learned the festival’s fate would be in the hands of a punk kid all order flew right out the door. We’re fighting each other because we’re worried about everything falling apart!”
“Are you sure you won’t reconsider? There must be a better option…”
“We’re all doomed. Have you even stopped to consider the real repercussions of this? How will the Phantom react when thiswhole thing blows up in our faces? Is that really a gamble we want to take?”
Oh, Christ. Not this shit again.
My eyes land on Scout, who at least has the decency to look ashamed.
By all means, Miss Perfect, please speak up. Why don’t you clear the air and tell everyone who the real criminal in this room is?
But of course, she says nothing.
I hold my stare in challenge, but she never looks up. That’s probably for the best. I’ve already paid the price, and people are going to believe what they want to believe. I’m not dumb enough to think I can persuade them otherwise.
“Okay. Okay. Now that’s enough.” Roman says, finally stepping in to rein in the chaos. He elbows me to say something, and I wince, rubbing the sore spot on my ribs.
I hold up three fingers and place a hand over my heart, like the good little Boy Scout I’ve never been. “Look. I’m not any happier about this than you are. But it looks like you’re stuck with me, so I suggest you either find a way to accept it…” I click my tongue, eyes locking on my old pal. “Who knows? I might surprise you.”
A tense beat passes before I clear my throat and glance toward Roman. “Why don’t we all go home and cool off. We can pick up where we left off next week.”
I don’t know why she’s back, but her lie about where she’s staying and that suitcase, she’s rolling beside her, tells me all I need to know.
CHAPTER THREE
Scout
My leg shakes with nervous energy as I try to disappear in on myself. The last person I thought I’d see in one of these town meetings is Luka Kingsley, let alone leading the damn thing.
After I left Restaurant, I went to Inn to see if I could beg Colleen for a room for the night. However, I was stopped short by a large orange sign posted on the door that read:Closed for renovations until further notice.
So that’s what Luka meant when he called me a liar. I hate that he so easily caught me in the act. I’ve never been a good liar; I’ve always worn my emotions right on my face—or my traitorous neck—it’s why I opt to wear turtlenecks in high-pressure situations. I don’t need everyone knowing how nervous I am. That’s not exactly considered a strength when you’re training to become an attorney. I’d hoped that by now my body would become desensitized to dealing with conflict, but if anything, the stress of arguing and high-tension situations has only made it worse.
It feels like a cruel joke that I’ve all but tortured myself to finish law school with a 4.0 GPA, pursuing a career that goes against my very nature, only to end up disappointing my parents anyway.
It’s not fair.
I try harder than anyone I know. I fight fair. I work hard and study. I have virtually no time to myself, always using every free moment to better myself in some way. Whether it’s studying, reading boring books with zero romance in them, or attending the many events with either my or Jimmy’s family.
I’ve kept sweet. I’ve played the part like the innocent angel of a daughter my parents have always expected me to be. Even going as far as accepting a proposal from my father’s best friend’s man-child, just because I knew it would make our parents happy.
And to top it all off, after I’ve spent the last eight years working toward a career I never wanted, all I have to show for it is an un-finished law degree, a tarnished reputation that no law school would even consider touching with a ten-foot pole, and a measly work wardrobe I was able to fit in my suitcase.
Money isn’t something I’ve ever had to worry about before. I know that makes me privileged, but I never considered myself to be entitled.
I didn’t expect the fallout of fighting with my parents to be easy, per se, but I never expected they’d go this far to teach me a lesson.
I drag my suitcase behind me as I weave my way through the fired-up volunteers until I finally spot Colleen. She’s in conversation with Lily Hewer as Old Man Melvin dozes in and out on her arm.
“Colleen!” I call to her as I break through the crowd.
Colleen’s smile widens as she pulls me in for a tight hug. “You look so lovely, dear. What brings you back to Ashford Falls?”
Lily brushes a plump hand over my cheek. “How long’s it been? Six? Seven years?”
Miss Scarlett taps her lip. “Let’s see… It’s got to be at least eight…that’s when?—”
Paige not so subtly elbows her friend in the ribs. “Welcome back, sweetie. I hope you’ll stop by the store. We’ve completely renovated the romance section. You do still love reading, don’t you? I can hardly remember a time when you didn’t have your nose in a book.”
