Page 85 of Thorne Princess

“Former First Daughter,” I corrected prissily. “And for your information, I swim against the stream. I didn’t go to an Ivy League school, marry a nice Jewish man, or open a charitable foundation. I’ll have you know, I’m a non-conformist!”

“Yeah, yeah.” It was Keller’s turn to yawn. “Have you banged him yet?”

“Keller!”

“That’s not a no.”

“No, no,no!”

“How come he is still working with you? I thought you were planning to sabotage and make him quit.”

“He is more hardheaded than me,” I admitted.

“That’s a first.” There was a pause before Keller said, “You know, I think he’s going to be huge in Hollywood.”

“I don’t think he’ll be sticking around,” I said, with relief. The thought of Ransom trailing behind another woman—a beautiful woman—made snakes slither in my stomach. They twisted together into a venomous ball.

We hung up. I drew myself a long, warm bath, then curled my hair and slipped into a yellow crochet-trimmed mini dress. Last night, I’d downloaded an interview with a psychologist about how to treat dyslexia to keep my mind off of Ransom. It was really inspiring, and I already had a lot of ideas on how to improve my life.

When I got back to my bedroom, a USB waited by my laptop.

Huh. That’s weird.

Certain it was from my parents, I shoved it inside and watched as a window popped open on the screen, containing an audio document titled HeraBridesmaidSpeech.mp3.

But when I double-clicked it, the low, gruff voice that filled the room was unmistakable.

Ransom.

He’d recorded the speech for me.

I closed my eyes.Thank you.

I slipped my earbuds in and let his voice seep into me, calm and commanding. It mortified me, how out of focus I became while listening to him. How my thighs clenched deliciously whenever his voice hit the pit of my stomach. My breathing turned heavy and ragged. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea, that we were parting ways in just a few months.

This kind of temptation, it never had a happy ending.

After memorizing the speech, I finally made my grand appearance in the living room…only to be met with a smiling, oblivious Max. My heart dropped.

No Ransom?

Max sat on the couch, reading one of his thick sci-fi books.

“Hey, Hallie!” He stood up.

In that exact moment, I realized my fascination with Ransom had crossed the line of curiosity and turned into something bigger. Beastly and ghastly, out of control.

Possibly recognizing my distress and disorientation at seeing him and not Ransom—whom I bet was screwing another woman right now—Max suggested we go get some shopping done. My parents were still in D.C., and so was Hera.

“You must need to grab some pre-wedding items, right? Gifts and such.”

I nodded faintly, my mind a million miles away. Only when we hit the shops did I remember I couldn’t actually buy anything. Nor had I the desire to, for that matter.

“Max.” I let out an embarrassed laugh as we slid out of the car. “I don’t have a credit card. Let’s turn around and go home.”

Max produced a card from his pocket, wiggling his eyebrows. “For emergencies only. But putting a smile on your face qualifies as an emergency to me.”

“I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

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