Page 40 of Love Arranged

“Make your life miserable.”

Not a hard task given the state of it, but I’m curious enough to ask, “How so?”

Lily is the type of woman who will get upset over killing a bug, so I can’t picture her doing much harm.

“I could ruin your campaign like that.” She snaps her fingers.

An amused huff slips out of me. “I’d love to know how.”

“You’re not the only one who could run for mayor.”

“Since when are you interested in local politics?”

“It’s a relatively new discovery.”

“How new are we talking?”

“Thirty seconds, give or take.”

I’m more entertained than annoyed, right until she opens her mouth again.

“Imagine what would happen to the gap between you and Ludlow if I join the race.”

I bite my tongue from sharing how I feel. “No one would take youseriously.”

“Maybe not everyone, but I only need enough people to pick me over you to do some damage. And who knows. Maybe the town prefers me over you and that other asshole.”

“Trevor?” I’m more surprised by Lily calling him an asshole than her flawed plan because I’ve never heard her speak ill toward anyone, let alone call someone an asshole. What does she have against the Ludlows, or better yet, what did they do to her?

Her nose twitches. “Yes. Him. It’s not like he’s a good candidate either, so I’d be doing everyone a favor by jumping into the race.”

My hand chokes the steering wheel. “You’re bluffing.”

She smiles. “Do you want to risk it?”

I stew in silence for a minute before speaking up. “What has Willow ever done to deserve this kind of loyalty from you?”

“For starters, she didn’t pretend to care about me when she only wanted a fake fiancée, so I automatically like her more than you.”

“I…” Iwhat? Yes, it’s true I joined the app to find a fake fiancée, but I ended up liking her more than I should’ve, which is why I cut her out of my life.

I had ignored the warning signs—like the urge to constantly check my phone or the worst-case scenarios that played out in my head whenever she didn’t answer my messages quick enough—until it was too late.

All it took was one meeting and I became paranoid about growing obsessed with her, like my father was with my mother. They both taught me obsessive thoughts only lead to an early grave, and I refuse to leave this world without stopping Trevor from becoming mayor.

“Youwhat?” she asks, annoyed.

“Nothing,” I reply.

“Classic Lorenzo, avoiding questions like a real politician.”

“I’mavoidinghurting your feelings.”

“You’re a little too late.” The way she slurs her words makes me think she wouldn’t have admitted that under any other circumstance.

“You’re drunk,” I say instead.

“What Iamis sick of all this and you.” Her voice cracks. “Were you ever interested in a relationship? Or was it all a part of your bigger plan to become mayor?”