Page 146 of Too Good to Be True

“What am I good for?” she asked. “I’m a rich man’s daughter who doesn’t have any real money. I’m semi-kinda-famous because of that. That’s all I have going for me.”

My tone was firm when I stated, “That isn’t true.”

She straightened a bit. “Really? So what is there to me, Daph?”

“You dress great. You know designers.” I smiled at her. “You’re really good at shopping. You could be a stylist. Get a job at Liberty, Harrods, work your way up.”

Something lit in her eyes even as her face brightened with excitement.

She hadn’t considered she could do something she liked and make money at it.

“Same thing with getting a job at a fashion magazine. It’d have to be entry level, but you could give it a shot. Or try working at a designer boutique. You like to travel. You can be a travel agent. Or a flight attendant,” I suggested.

“I like the idea of helping people shop better.”

“Then go with that.”

Her enthusiasm held on, but only for a moment before the despondency set back in, and she again gazed out the window.

“Daniel,” I surmised.

“I’m surprised at how much it hurts, knowing he fucked that woman. Knowing he put her in this house and brought me here, let her touch me, do my hair. Knowing what kind of person she was, how she’d use what he gave her to get what she wanted, then she’d do something as whacked out as what she did to you last night.”

“You’re surprised to find that you were using him to try to get Ian back, but somewhere along the line, you started liking him.”

She turned again to me and shocked me by admitting openly, “Yes.” She reached out and grabbed my hand. “What he did, with Brittany, how it played out with you, that happening after we found out about Lou. He couldn’t know it would happen, but my God, Daphne, how fucked up is that? It’s a terrible coincidence, but in the end, it was Daniel who orchestrated it. And that’s not cool.”

“Tell him you’re disappointed in him and talk it through. If you don’t like how he handles it, I’ll take you to the train station and buy your ticket home.”

When she was going to interrupt me, I shook her hand.

“No,” I kept going. “You’ll accept. It’s my prerogative to take care of my little sister when she gets herself in a jam.”

She shook her head ruefully. “I don’t know how you put up with me.”

“I love you, that’s how.”

“You shouldn’t, you know. I’m terrible.”

I felt a quiver of trepidation snake down my spine at the weightiness of her words.

But I said, “How about you let me make that decision?”

She held my gaze when she confessed, “It hurts to see how into you Ian is. How well you two get along. How perfect you seem to fit. I shouldn’t be surprised. I was being you when he asked me out. It still doesn’t feel good.”

I could only imagine.

And not totally over Ian, I could see.

I could also imagine that.

“I like him, Portia. A lot,” I informed her.

She let me go and said to her lap, “I can tell.”

“And I know it seems confusing, but somewhere along the line, you’ve fallen in love with Daniel,” I pointed out.

My sister looked again to me. “I think you’re right, which is the bitch of it. Because he’s kind of a moron.”

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