Page 98 of Fake Dating Mr. Prince

“Prince Industries. We’re clearing your name,” she said in a firm tone.

“Um, Stella. Did you not hear that I’m banned from the building?”

“Of course I heard you, silly. But if Dean Prince won’t see you, then I’ll go in and make him listen.”

“But he knows you’re my sister and Elaine’s daughter. Why would he bother?”

She pursed her lips. “We'll figure it out when we get there.”

I picked up my phone. “Or I’ll save both of us the trouble and call him to tell him we have proof.”

“You could, but my way would be far more dramatic. Don’t you want to be there when he realizes his mistake so he can grovel at your feet and beg for forgiveness?”

My lips felt rusty as it curled up into a grin. “Groveling would be nice, but I also don’t want us to get arrested for trespassing.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, then quickly dialed his number. It rang three times before he picked up.

“What do you want, Ash?”

The ability to speak fled the moment I heard the rough timbre of his voice. “I, ah—” I had to pull myself together. This was my one chance. “Dean, I need to talk to you.”

His stern voice was still jarring even though I’d tried to tell myself to expect it. “I think you’ve said enough.” Before I could respond, a dial tone filled my ear.

“He did not just hang up on me.” I sputtered. “How dare he? The least he could’ve done was give me a second to say my piece. You're right. He’s a stupid jerk.” I tried to move past Stella. We were going to Prince Industries, and Dean Prince would listen to what we had to say, whether he liked it or not.

“Uh, Ash, no.”

“What’re you talking about? This was your idea, to begin with.” I popped my hand on my hip.

She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, but you need to shower first. You stink. There is no way you can face him looking like this. It’s just sad.”

I glanced down at my wrinkled and stained sweatshirt and sweatpants. “You’re probably right.”

“I am.”

“Then we’ll go after I take a shower.”

She smiled. “Good choice.”

I walked toward the bathroom and noticed Stella’s suitcases by the door. Pointing my finger at it, I stared at Stella. “Is there something else you want to tell me?”

She smiled sheepishly. “Oh, yeah, that. Hi, roomie.”

“You moved out?” Stella had talked about moving out of her mother’s, well, my dad’s house for years.

“Mother is going to figure out at some point I took the email. And I’m done hoping she’ll change. I need to move on with my life.”

I grabbed her and squeezed her tight. “I’m so sorry, but—this is the best news ever.”

She laughed then pushed me away, holding her nose. “Shower.”

“I think you’re exaggerating. I don’t smell as bad as what you’re saying.”

She shook her head. “Oh, wait. I have something I want to give you.”

“The incriminating email wasn’t enough?” I joked.

“Funny. It’s a thanks-for-letting-me-live-here gift.” She poked around behind her suitcase then grunted when she picked up the box. Whatever it was must have been heavy. She placed it on the coffee table with a gentle thud. “Open it.”