Page 83 of One Touch

“Fun you’re making money off of.” Mr. Miller crossed his arms.

“Dad.” Beckett’s harsh tone was a warning, and the tiny hairs stood tall on the back of my neck.

Mr. Miller tossed his linen napkin beside his plate. Mrs. Miller slipped on a strained smile as she gritted through her teeth and glanced at the camerawoman. Everyone had stopped to stare and listen. “Now is not the time, Frank.”

He gestured across the table toward us. “I’m helping. He wants to stop getting passed over, opportunities like this are it.”

My brows pinched together. “Passed over?” The words slipped out, but as they settled in, my temper sizzled.

Mr. Miller’s bored gaze moved over me. “He’ll never be anyone’s top choice when he lacks a killer instinct.”

Never be anyone’s top choice—including his father’s.

I shrank back at the realization that despite his privileged upbringing, Beckett had never managed to gain his parents’ approval. It was no wonder he pushed himself so hard.

“Father, don’t make a scene.” Tension rolled off Beckett as his eyes flicked to the camera aimed at our end of the table.

He looked at me and my stomach tightened. “We aren’t making a scene, are we, young lady?” His cold eyes slipped back to Beckett. “She knows her place, unlike you, who—”

My head snapped up. “My place?”

Mrs. Miller cleared her throat and smiled thinly. “That’s quite enough, Frank. We are having a lovely family dinner. Now is not the time to discuss the career path our son chose.”

Mrs. Miller could barely hide the disgust as the words flowed out.

And I couldn’t stop. It was unfathomable how they could dismiss and minimize their own son. I lifted my chin. “Do you know he’s fielding callsdailyfor people begging to work with him? Not only is he extremely talented, but he’s a great boss. The people who work for him show up and work hard forhim.Because he’s a leader they trust, and he works hard right alongside them. No, I’m not monetizingHome Againat the moment. That’s not what it was about.”

Mrs. Miller smiled. “Kate, dear, this outburst—”

“I’m not finished.” I stood from the table, and my heart hammered as shocked eyes locked on me. “Do I tease and poke at him? Yes. Do my followers like it when I snap a candid picture of him? Of course. But we’re using the page to also highlight the local businesses. It’s been good for my community.”

Their blank, bored faces were too much. Nothing I said made the slightest impact. I was drained.

“If you’ll excuse me,” I said to no one in particular, then took a breath and placed my napkin on the chair. Without looking back, I exited the dining room and excused myself past the other waitstaff just outside the room.

I knew Beckett would be coming after me, so instead of retreating to the powder room on the first floor, I bolted up the stairs and hid behind the first unlocked door I could find.

Pressing my back to the door, I placed my hand over my racing heart.

This whole situation is completely fucked up.

Tears burned at the back of my eyelids. In our little bubble of Outtatowner, I didn’t have to face the fact that I have deep, stupid, impossible feelings for Beckett Miller. Or face the harsh reality that not only had I dated his younger brother, but, despite my best efforts, I would never fit in with their lifestyle. The Millers fundamentally misunderstood me and everything I stood for.

Fake holidays and photo shoots and swanky uptown penthouses werenotfor someone with a name like Catfish Kate.

My heart jumped when I heard the pounding on the door behind me. When I yanked open the door, I froze when I realized it was not Beckett on the other side.

“Declan.” I blinked up at him, too stunned to speak.

He leaned against the doorframe as I squeezed the handle to stay upright. “You look gorgeous as ever.”

I peered around his large shoulders. “Where is Beckett?”

He smirked. “Making a scene, I’m sure. He’s always been good at that.”

My heart hammered against my ribs as I shouldered past Declan. “I have to go.”

“Kate ...” His hand caught my upper arm, skimming the exposed skin and sending an uncomfortable chill through me.

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