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Liz glances over at Samantha, who chews on her lip before suggesting, “Liz and I can get refunds for our tickets and give you the money toward yours.”

“Aw, you would do that?” Brynn clutches her hands to her chest while Liz nods enthusiastically alongside Samantha.

“In a heartbeat.” Liz reaches across the table to squeeze Brynn’s hand.

“That’s really sweet,” Charlotte says before she sighs and adds, “But even then, that’s only a little over seven hundred dollars towardthreefirst-class seats. That’s not nearly enough to make up the difference.”

Liz’s expression falls to the margarita. “Back to square one,” she mumbles.

“Looks like the only fallback plan we have is to pray like hell they don’t get this stupid snowstorm they’re predicting.” Charlotte sighs, reaching for the margarita to take a long pull.

I sit in silence, shifting in my seat as my thoughts churn. Either the girls don’t know who I am, or they’ve been discreet about it, because I certainly haven’t volunteered the information. Once people find out you’re the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in the country, they tend to look at you differently. They tend to want things or have certain expectations, and for once in my life, I’ve had the opportunity to simply enjoy being treated as their equal, just another one of the girls.

Still, a friend is only as good as their secrets, and we’ll never be close unless they know me?allof me?including the parts I like least. I want the kind of friendship where secrets don’t feel like burdens but bridges to better understanding, and where being known, fully and deeply, doesn’t scare them away and instead, pulls them closer.

But what I’m about to do means doing the one thing I despise most, the one thing I said I wouldn’t. I’m going to have to use my parents’ money and connections.

What will they think when they look at the credit card statement and see I’ve charged flights to watch Damon play after warning me to stay away from him? How will they react after telling them I didn’t want their money?

“I know a way we could easily get the money to go,” I blurt.

Swallowing, I glance around me and meet their eyes, feeling somewhat foolish for the nerves twisting my stomach in knots. Telling them about myself should be easy. Instead, it feels like peeling back skin—raw, vulnerable, and exposed.

“Um, robbing a bank isn’t an option,” Charlotte quips.

I huff out a laugh along with the others. Little does she know that getting the money would be as easy as breathing. All I’d have to do is take the platinum Amex my father gifted me when I was fourteen and charge the three flights to his account. In minutes, we’d secure our seats to Houston.

Six grand is a drop in the bucket to my father. It’s play money and spare change. When I finally decided to transfer colleges and win Damon back, I vowed to myself never to rely on my name or the Astor fortune again. I borrowed money for this year’s tuition and worked at Java the Hutt for all of my extra expenses, including my coach seat to Houston. Relying on them again means giving them back a piece of their power and control. And I’ve already seen once how quickly their grip on my life could destroy me and my happiness. I have zero desire to do it again.

But Damon asked me to come and watch him play, and I promised I would. And even though he might understand the circumstances have changed, I can’t bear the thought of letting him down again, of disappointing him. I want to be there like I promised. I want to watch him take the field at NRG Stadiumand pull out a win. And I want to be the first one to congratulate him, to plant a kiss on his sweaty cheek like old times.

It’s been two and a half years since I’ve watched him play in person, since he’s wanted me at one of his games, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to miss it when I can do something to ensure my friends and I are there.

“We don’t need to rob a bank,” I say, then with shaking hands, I dig into my purse and pull out the credit card hidden in the back of my wallet, the one collecting dust.

Sliding it across the table, the silver card glints under the pendant light as Charlotte meets my eyes, a crease in her brow and a question in her dark eyes.

“Just use this. Charge all three to this card, and it’ll be taken care of. None of us will owe a thing.”

Except for me. I’ll be in my father’s debt again.

Brynn’s eyes widen as she picks up the card with a hiss. “Holy shit. This is a Amex Platinum.”

With a frown, Charlotte squints at it over her shoulder before her eyes fly wide, and I know what she sees.

I hold my breath, my back rigid as I wait for their reaction.

“Why does it say Reginald Astor on this card above your name?” Charlotte’s dark eyes lift back to mine.

“Reginald Astor?” Samantha says to my right, snatching the card from Brynn’s hands to take a look. “LiketheReginald Astor? As intheowner and developer of the Astor Hotel Group?” she says, watching my wary expression grow. “The largest hotelier in the country?”

My expression remains impassive as I say, “That’s the one.”

“Holy shit.” She drops the card on the table as if it burned her fingers.

Brynn’s mouth parts but nothing comes out, and Liz gapes.

Finally, it’s Charlotte who speaks. “Why didn’t you tell us?”