Page 102 of Idle

Alone with my fiancée, I watch as she paces around the conference room. The show was my goal. My way to get out of the banking industry and show my parents this was a viable career choice. Things are different now.

I focus on Paige, who’s now staring out the window. “What do you think? I guess it could work.”

She turns toward me. “I know this was our goal all along. To win the competition and get a television show.”

“It was.”

“This feels wrong, though. We didn’t win. We don’t deserve this. And you were right—we have our own flipping business and the Arch Pointe Furniture designs to do. Not to mention planning for this.” She holds up her left hand.

I approach her. “We are busy. We’re like this because welostthe show.” I rub my palms up and down her arms. “The show’s an old dream, which has been replaced with a better one.” I kiss her. “A much better one.”

Our kiss explodes.

Against my lips Paige murmurs, “Let’s go turn down Quinn.” She gives me a peck on the lips. “Then more of this.”

We walk down the hall and I knock on the doorframe to Quinn’s office. “Do you want to go back to the conference room?”

Paige answers her for the both of us. “No, we’ll be quick. We want to thank you for your offer, but we’re going to have to decline.”

Quinn’s brows come together. “This is what you signed up for when you went onNYC Views.”

“It is. But things have changed. We’ve changed.” I squeeze Paige’s hand.

“Our lives are busier now than ever,” my fiancée adds. “Thanks for the opportunity.”

“This is what I get for working with my sister.”

Every molecule in Paige’s hand stiffens. “What did you say?” Each word out of Paige’s mouth is clipped.

“I said,” Quinn continues, “I should’ve known better than to cast my sister on this show.”

Paige leaps forward, her hands landing on the desk. “You’re delusional.”

“No, you’re deluded. Our father’s been hiding me from his other family—yours—forever. He even moved us out of our house in New Jersey to Westchester, so my mother would be more convenient to him. Didn’t you ever wonder about his so-called ‘business trips’?”

She whips out her phone and shows us photos of Paige’s father with his arm around her and an older woman, presumably her mother. The date is last year, before his arrest.Shit.

I place my hand on Paige’s shoulder. To offer her comfort. To give her strength. Her whole body’s coiled to spring, but I’m not sure at whom—Quinn or her father.

Paige turns tortured eyes to me. Stepping up, I say, “Our answer is no, Quinn. We’re leaving.” Slipping my arm around my fiancée, I rush us into the hallway and out to the street.

On a whisper, Paige says, “I need to see Father.”

“I understand.” I pull her into a hug, where she trembles in my arms. When she doesn’t move, I ask, “Want me to join you?”

“No.”

I rub her back. My brave girl. Still, she doesn’t move. I ask her again, “Do you want me with you?”

She looks up at me, her eyes now watery. “Yes. I want to do this by myself, but I’m afraid Father won’t believe me—rather, he’ll try to blow me off. If you’re with me, he won’t be able to do that, since you heard what Quinn said.” She sobs. “You heard her, right?”

“Yes, sweetheart, I did.” I wish I could do more than hug this woman whose life is shattering, but I can be her support system. “I’ll go with you.”

She fumbles for her phone and places a text. “Car will be here in five minutes.”

“I got you.” I kiss her, imparting all my love and support.

Too soon, we’re zipping through Manhattan. Too soon, we arrive at her parents’ apartment building. Too soon, we get off the elevator into their living room, a luxury I once thought amazing.

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