Page 40 of Bonking the Billionaire

“She’ll totally follow you,” Layana said. “When she’s set her mind to something, there’s no changing it. It’s easier if you just go with it.”

Tristan stared at me a beat. His eye—the one that wasn’t swollen shut—was a pretty shade of green, like a spring meadow. I hadn’t noticed that before.

He flattened his lips in a line, then took a seat in one of the beanbags.

Victory! I did a tiny dance, keeping most of my enthusiasm to myself so as not to make him change his mind.

“With that settled, we really need to discuss this whole show business,” Layana said.

“Did they call?”I snatched her hands in mine and squeezed. “They called, didn’t they?”

Slowly she allowed her inner excitement to show. She bounced on her toes. “They called.”

“Yes! This is fabulous, Lay. I’m so happy for you!”

“It is fabulous. They provide room and board, and the winner of these things always gets a huge cash prize. Plus, even being accepted is huge exposure,” she said, training her features. “But…they say they won’t take me without you.”

“What? That’s ridiculous. That’s not fair. They shouldn’t make your entry contingent on anything. You earned this. I don’t even know why they’d want me.”

“Uh, because you’re awesome, clearly,” she said. “You’re coming, right? You have to say yes.”

I really didn’t want to go on reality TV. It was like asking me if I wanted to jump head-first into a shallow pit filled with snakes and sharks and lava.

“You’re awesome, too. That should be enough,” I said. “It’s messed up that they’re acting like this. You deserve better.”

“This feels a lot like you tiptoeing around giving me an answer,” she said.

Because it was.

TV was her dream, not mine. I wanted to be a costume designer for the Resplendent Theatre and watch my creations dance across the stage, enhancing the performance of the world’s biggest stars. I was building up to that dream, bedazzled piece by bedazzled piece. It was just hard to see the whole picture from the basement.

The door flew open.

Chloe and Stella stormed in, wearing matching yoga get-ups. I’d always thought yoga was supposed to relax people, but it seemed to have the opposite effect on the two of them. As soon as I spotted the spandex, I knew we were in trouble.

“Is that a man in the apartment?” Chloe pointed. “No men allowed.”

“He’s just my—” I started.

“This is the last straw,” Stella said.

“Theweaselwas the last straw,” Chloe said. “This is just icing on the cake.”

The mixed metaphors weren’t working for her, but I wouldn’t say that. I licked my lips and tried to ignore the slow rise of panic flooding my brain. “I put an ad in the paper for Miso.”

“You’re out,” Chloe said to me. “Take your man and your weasel with you.”

“If we can find somewhere for the weasel to go, how about you give Morgan another chance. She needs this apartment,” Layana said. “And she’s a good person.”

“Uh, no more chances,” Chloe said. “You’re out, too, Layana.”

No. No this couldn’t be happening.

“That’s not fair,” I said. “She didn’t do anything. Let her stay.”

“She enables you,” Stella said. “Both of you need to be out by morning.”

We could make this work somehow. I could beg. I could sleep under the sink as penance, do everyone’s laundry in perpetuity.Anything.

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