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“Oh, please,” I scoff. “I did not break his heart, and if he told you I did, he’s just looking for attention.”

“What he said is between me and him. I don’t think you’re understanding my point, Katrina. Why would you end things? I spent weeks talking about you, telling him how wonderful you are despite all your flaws, and he still asked you out. You shouldn’t just throw something like that away.”

“Despite all my flaws?” My shoulders tense at her words, wondering if this is the conversation we’re finally about to have. “And what flaws would those be, Mom?”

The question catches her off guard, and she stumbles around for an answer. “Oh, well, you know. No one is perfect, Katrina, least of all you.”

“Oh, I know that,” I reply back. “I never pretended to be perfect. I’m just curious what flaws you’d deem something he needs to get past in order to date me?”

“Holy shit,” Bryce groans beside me.

I wonder if he gets it, at least on some level. I hope no one has ever said anything cruel to him about Josie or their relationship, but I know what that is like. Bryce is still somewhat in the public eye, and people can be coldhearted and cruel. Sometimes even the people who are supposed to love us.

“Katrina, you know what flaws I’m talking about,” she snaps. “I don’t need to say them.”

My mother is Hollywood perfection. She’s tall with a slim, lithe figure that comes from years of working out and watching what she eats. Her metabolism must be through the roof, or something. Whatever it is that helps her be that way, I didn’t seem to inherit the gene, and it’s something she’s constantly pointed out to me.

“Yeah, Mom, I do. I’ve always known,” I bite out. “All those times my dessert plate got replaced with a salad and you’d make pointed remarks to seamstresses about needing to let something out. I’ve always known.”

I’m half expecting Bryce to tear the phone out of my hands and throw it across the room based on the pure fury in his eyes. Honestly, I’m considering just handing it over to him.

“I’m an adult,” I remind her. “I don’t need to validate my choices to you. Will had real flaws—harmful flaws—but the ones you see in me are superficial. Thank you for finding a boyfriend for me, it’s added a lot of great talking points with my therapist. I’m sure this conversation will come up next time I have an appointment with them.”

“You’re going to regret this, Katrina,” she warns. “You’re never going to find someone who will—”

“Hey, Katrina!” Bryce’s voice is loud, surely can be heard on the other end of the phone. I don’t know if he could hear what she was saying, or if he could just read it on my face, but I am grateful for him in that moment. “I need to talk to you.”

“Mom, I really have to go.” I can hear her starting to argue, but I just end the call, taking a deep breath before looking at Bryce. “Thank you for that.”

“I could only hear your end, but your mother sounds like a piece of work.”

He doesn’t even know the half of it. “What did you need?”

“I was just coming over to see if you wanted some coffee. I’m going to run out and get some.”

“Yes,” I breathe out, smiling at him. “All the coffee, please. I’ll need it to get through today.”

“Nothing can be worse than that.” He motions to my phone. “Just think, at least the end of the day has something that’ll make you happy.”

It’s weird, talking to him about my date with Carter, but he has a point. It is going to make me happy. “Honestly, it’s the thing that’s keeping me going today.”

Bryce laughs, turning to head back toward the entrance so he can go get the coffee. He’s right, though, it really can’t get worse after that.

Icollapseintothechair in Bryce’s office with a loud groan. Literally everything that could have gone wrong today did. I’ve been running around this entire property since eight o’clock this morning, putting out one fire after the other. I don’t even know what time it is.

I reach up to wiggle the mouse, bringing Bryce’s computer to life. With tired eyes, I squint at the screen until my eyes can focus on the numbers and—

“Fuck!”

In a second, I’m standing and scrambling to grab my phone to dial Carter’s number. It rings as I scramble to gather my things, praying he won’t be too mad at me. It’s taken almost two weeks to get our schedules lined up for our first official date. He even drove out here, and now I’ve worked straight past fashionably late and am dangerously edging toward standing him up.

The ringing cuts off. “Ah, so you are alive.”

He’s teasing. I can tell by the lilt in his tone, but the words still hit me hard. “I am so sorry, Carter. I’ve had the day from hell, starting with a phone call from my mother, but I’m leaving right now. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Well, that’ll be awkward for you,” he replies, “because I’m not at the restaurant.”

The hope that’s been fluttering around in my stomach for the last ten days comes to a screeching halt. I’ve blown it by getting too caught up in work, and now he’s about to let me down. I’m sure he’ll tell me it’s a timing issue, and it’s not my fault. Or the god awful, It’s me, not you. I don’t want to hear any of that.