Page 84 of My Ex-Fiance's Best Men
“I’m trying to relax, I swear,” I tell her. “It’s just… I’ve never been in a situation like this before.”
She scoffs and shakes her head. “Let me guess. This is the first time you’ve ever been arrested.”
“Yes.”
“I get it. The first time is the worst. You think you know your rights and whatever, but they push you and jerk you around like you’re some worthless piece of crap, some spineless sack of flesh, theirs to do with as they please.”
“Way to get my spirits up,” I grumble and cross my arms.
“It’s all psychological,” the dealer says. “They do it on purpose to get you to crack, to tell them everything you know. But you don’t. You keep your mouth shut.”
A police officer peers through the bars, giving me an amused look. “I thought you looked familiar.”
“Excuse me?” I ask. My brow furrows as my stomach reduces itself to the size of a pea, the nausea picking the worst possible moment to remind me I’m pregnant. “I don’t understand.”
“Well, you’re not Mrs. Newsom, that’s for sure,” he says with a chuckle and shows me his phone.
I stand up, my knees weak, but I need to see what’s on that screen. The closer I get, the tighter my throat becomes as I recognize a snapshot of myself and Dominic as we’re dragged out of the Jade Dragon in cuffs.
“They had press waiting outside?” I gasp.
“Of course. High level players in that joint. The Feds wanted to make a strong case in the public eye. Local PD is assisting. Miss Baldwin, right?” the police officer replies with a cold smirk.
“Baldwin?” the dealer chick asks. “Is that a famous name or what?”
“Only one of the richest families in New York,” the cop says.
The headline turns my stomach inside out, bile burning its way up my throat. It takes a gargantuan effort to swallow it and remain upright as I read it again out loud.
“Baldwin Heiress and Lover Caught in Illegal Gambling Ring.” I hear the words roll off my tongue, yet my brain delays the connection. “Oh, God…”
“Yeah, you’ve gotten yourself into some serious trouble here,” the cop replies.
“Remember what I said,” the dealer quietly reminds me. “Mouth shut. Lawyer.”
“Yeah, yeah, mind your own beeswax,” the cop tries to shut her up.
The dealer comes up beside me and gives him the middle finger. “Screw you, asshole. I know your games. She doesn’t have to tell you anything without her lawyer present. Pray you mirandized her before you brought her in here!”
“I know my job!”
“Then get the fuck out of our faces and godoyour job,” she snaps. “In the meantime, LAWYER.”
I watch in disbelief as the police officer puts his phone away and goes to the cell next door to check on the other players and dealers. They’re all infinitely more agitated, a bigger handful than me. Shaken to the core, I hold on to the steel bars for balance.
“Whoa, babe, you don’t look so good,” the dealer says, placing a hand on my shoulder. I give her a weak smile.
“Yes, well, I’m not sure how I’m going to get out of here.”
“Come on,” she says and guides me back to the bench. “At least sit down. They’ll give us some water soon. They’re required to by law.”
“Thanks,” I whisper and resume my seat.
My life is pretty much over. The tweet is out. The newspapers are already circulating my name all over the stratosphere. Phoebe Baldwin arrested. Illegal gambling. Dominic got dragged into it, too. There’s also the issue of the fake IDs we used.
It appears my mother got away. She’ll definitely use this as ammunition against me.
I won’t stand a single chance in court.
