Page 72 of Good Girl’s Guide to Love (Guide to Love #4)
linc
Suspended pending investigation.
It’s the best outcome I could’ve hoped for. Because my contract clearly states that if I’m involved in an altercation where fists are thrown, that I’m going to be removed from the team and my contract is null and void.
I never thought I’d be thankful for video being released, but because it was, Coach, my agent, the general manager, the communications team, and everyone who has a VP in their title, could see what happened.
That I did not attack Dipshit. That he ran into me.
However, because the video is out there, the team felt it would be best to suspend me until further notice as they investigate the situation.
When I told Ainsley and her siblings the news, they were happy for me, but apparently they don’t trust other people's timelines. When this family gets an idea in their heads, they move quickly. Which is why we’re here, two days later, in a hotel in Nashville, ready to serve what I’ve been told is Banks Family Justice.
Whatever that means.
“This seems like a lot,” I say as I watch Logan fire up a massive computer system.
“You’ll say that frequently about our family,” Maeve says. “But you get used to it.”
As an only child, I don’t know if that will ever happen. Because there’s being a part of a big family, then there’s being welcomed into a family who’s currently setting up a high-tech surveillance system in a hotel room to help you clear your name.
“I’m having deja vu,” Simon says.
“Have you guys done this before?” I ask softly as Logan turns on the screens to show a crystal-clear picture of the adjoining room. One that’s registered to Brad Rockwell.
“Once,” Ainsley whispers. “Only that time Logan wasn’t running the cameras, and we had a dominatrix involved.”
I have to blink a few times because why was a dominatrix involved, and why is Ainsley saying it so casually? “Excuse me?”
“How is Natasha doing?” Quinn asks as she overhears our conversation.
“Really good,” Stella adds. “We got coffee last week.”
I feel like I’m going to be saying this a lot, but what kind of family am I getting myself into?
“I’ll fill you in later,” Ainsley promises as she wraps her hands around my forearm. “Let’s just concentrate on today.”
I wish I could, but the pessimist in me doesn’t see how this is going to work. “Not that I don’t trust you guys, because clearly this isn’t your first rodeo, but this seems a little far-fetched. Are we sure this is going to work?”
“Oh it’ll work,” Quinn says. “We’re putting a psycho, a narcissist, and a douchebag in a room together. What could go wrong?”
A million things sprint through my brain, but I can’t think about them when I hear a voice come through on a speaker Logan has set up. It’s Porter, who is down in the lobby with Emmett as our lookouts, with some sort of high-tech ear pieces and microphones.
“Boiled Bunny entering the building,” Porter says. “And from what I can tell, she’s taking the bait.”
Here we fucking go…
When Stella started uncovering the tangled web that Katie, Brad, and Jonathan weaved, the plan we came up with felt a little too crazy. A little ridiculous. But the Banks siblings told me it would work. The partners all gave me affirming head nods.
And so far, much to my surprise, it is. It began with Simon and Logan getting into Brad’s hotel room earlier today when he was at the gym to plant the surveillance equipment.
I had my doubts they could pull it off, but apparently a well-placed bribe and Simon “knowing a guy” did the trick.
And now, step two is complete, as Katie has taken the bait.
That one I had more faith in. All that took was Logan sending Katie an email from “Brad”—well, the mirrored email he created to send it to her—asking her to come see him before he left for Milwaukee.
And being that she’s his former mistress, she couldn’t come fast enough.
That’s right. Stella dug. And that’s the goldmine.
“She’s pulling the trench coat in the hotel move,” Porter says. “This is going to be epic.”
“Aw, I remember when I did that,” Quinn says.
“We don’t need to hear a story time right now,” Maeve whisper-yells. “Plus, we need to keep our voices down. Be safe about this.”
That’s not a problem for Ainsley and me.
We’ve been holding our breaths since we got here.
Not that I don’t have faith in the Fury for doing a solid investigation, but if we can get proof that we were set up, and it just so happens to land on their desk, then this saga is going to finally be over with.
Logan adjusts the cameras, one facing the hotel door, another facing the room hooked onto a lamp, and the other expertly hidden in the headboard. It lets us watch every angle on each monitor.
“Showtime,” Logan says as we watch Brad's expression of surprise when he hears a knock on the door.
When Brad opens it, he steps back a little, clearly not ready to see Katie standing in the hallway, jacket wide open, and not much underneath.
“Hey, Pookie. Did you miss me?”
She pushes him into the hotel room, Brad stutter stepping back, as she tackles him onto the bed.
“Katie, what are you doing?” Brad asks in a muffled voice as Katie attacks his lips, straddling him, jacket still on.
“What do you think I’m doing, silly? Everything worked. We can be together now. Eeek!”
Katie dives into Brad’s mouth, and I watch in horror, but Ainsley turns away.
“I don’t think we should be watching this,” Ainsley says. “Just tell me when this is over.”
“Oh, sweet Ainsley,” Quinn says. “Even when she’s having sex, she’s still our innocent girl.”
“It’s not that. No one should be watching this.”
She’s not wrong. I never saw Katie kiss before, but it’s like she’s trying to swallow Brad’s face like she’s in some sort of alien movie.
“Ew,” we all say in accidental unison. I have to shake out the chills because…no. Just no.
“Katie, Katie, baby,” Brad says, doing his best to lift her off of him. “As happy as I am to see you, you’ve got to catch me up. How did you know where I was staying?”
Katie laughs and playfully smacks his chest. Only by Brad’s reaction, I don’t think it was very playful. “You told me in your email, Pookie.“
“I have no clue what the fuck you’re talking about,” he says, standing from the bed, I’m guessing to be saved from another attack.
Katie drops her trench coat to the ground, fully revealing a barely-there lace number.
“I love when you play hard to get,” Katie says, sitting on the bed, legs crossed. “You wrote me and said that everything worked. That we ruined his life. You got what you wanted. And now because of that, we can be together again!”
Another in-unison chorus comes from our room, only this time it’s “oh shit.”
Because holy shit…
This is what we needed. Confirmation of the affair. Because if our theories are right, this is what started it all.
Stella did some digging—the woman astounds me with what she can scrape from just from a few social media and Google searches—and found some old photos of the two of them together.
Enter Logan—who apparently, along with developing video games, has a hacking hobby—was able to find old texts and messages sent last season between Katie and Brad.
Most of them required all of us to wash out our eyes after what we read, but in between the horrible sexts and nudes I’ll never be able to unsee, this is what we put together: They were fucking.
Brad was married. Brad’s wife found out.
Brad called off the affair, and his wife still left him.
And all of that happened the week before he tore his ACL.
His life literally blew up in front of his eyes. Then I came along and poured salt in every wound.
And if they just keep talking, we could figure out their entire plan.
“Katie, I never sent you that email,” Brad says, as he tries to hand her back her coat. “I told you that we were done. The other night was the last time.”
“Of course he’d get his dick wet one more time,” Quinn says. “Asshole.”
“No, you didn’t!” Katie screeches. “You told me to ruin his life. Get him cut from the team. By any means possible. And if I did that, you’d take me back.
And I did it! It worked. He’s suspended but I bet he’s getting kicked off soon.
I fed every columnist I knew all his dirty laundry.
Let every one of them quote me as a source.
I ruined my career for you! So why are you breaking your promise, Bradley? ”
“Don’t call me that. You know I hate being called that.”
“Well, I hate being lied to, Bradley , so tell me why you don’t love me!”
“She’s cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs,” Ainsley says as I let out a whistle.
“That’s an insult to Cocoa Puffs.”
The two continue going back and forth when we hear a signal from Emmett.
“Dipshit entering. I repeat, Dipshit on his way up.”
“He better have loose lips again,” Ainsley says. “I still can’t believe he admitted all of that to me.”
“What did he actually say?” Stella asks. “I think, in the chaos, we never got back to that part of the story.”
“He pulled me away from Linc, conveniently when Brad stepped in front of him,” Ainsley begins.
“It was all the distraction needed to separate us. Kept going on and on about how he knew that we were fake. That we weren’t real.
That I could drop the act. And when I told him it wasn’t an act, that we were dating, he dragged me outside, but that was so he could yell at me.
Which, okay, throw a tantrum. But in that tantrum, he slipped and said that Katie told him we were fake and that if he helped her, that she could guarantee we would break up.
Whatever he said after that I’m not sure, because that’s when I lost it. ”
“And that’s when you called her a ‘crazy fucking bitch!’” Quinn exclaims. “Not going to lie, I’ve watched that part of the video multiple times.”