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Given I haven’t heard anything from any of the guys, I’m guessing Tealey hasn’t told them she’s moving in with me.

Is it something I should do, or is this a secret?

I can’t imagine why we’d hide it. We’re all friends.

I’m just one helping another . . . another that I’m not sure that I’ve been great at hiding the torch I’ve carried.

Torch might be taking it too far.

Lantern?

Flashlight works, I lie to myself.

Who am I kidding?

I thought I’d see Tealey at this group dinner tonight, which made it worth it to miss a game when I have a large bet on the line. I wonder how long’s a reasonable time to stay here?

When Marlow downs her wine like a shot, I do what any good friend would do. I hold my finger in the air when a server passes by and point at the empty glasses. Judging by his hustle to the bar, I’m thinking he can read my desperation.

Marlow says, “I’m tired of your bad decisions wreaking havoc on my life. Why can’t I have normal parents?”

I might have called her spoiled any other time, all in good fun, because she relishes the role, but this time feels different. She’s upset.

I reach over and awkwardly nudge her in the arm. “I think?—”

“Because your mother ran off with an Italian race car driver, that’s why.

” Bob’s smarting words cause Marlow to flinch from the impact.

“That’s when our lives were so-called ‘normal’ and look how that turned out.

So calm down, Marlow.” Yikes. Rookie mistake.

Telling any woman to calm down explains his divorces. “You didn’t even like Lorie.”

A red wave crawls from the base of Marlow’s neck, spreading to her jaw and settling in her face. She tightens her mouth, and says, “Don’t tell me to calm down.”

“Listen—”

“No, you listen. I didn’t dislike Lorie. I just don’t bother to get to know them anymore. What’s the point, Daddy, when you’re going to turn around and divorce them so quickly?”

“The point is, I’m a sucker for a beautiful?—”

“Too-young-for-you models, actresses,” she says, ticking off her fingers. “Flight attendants, my friends?—”

“I married Deandra, so I think that makes her more my friend than yours.”

“Oh, trust me, Daddy. She’s not my friend anymore, but she was in high school and one of the few people I thought I could trust. Why do you think I left California?”

That’s a lot to unpack, and I’m thinking that won’t happen tonight.

The drinks arrive, allowing each of them to catch their breath. Marlow crosses her arms and looks across the sea of people while Bob looks at me. Shit.

Covering her hand, Bob returns his attention to his daughter. “I’ve hurt you and caused you pain. I’m sorry, sweetie. That was never my intention. I’m not always the best with this kind of stuff, so I’m glad you have Rad to rely on.”

Marlow’s scowl softens. “I don’t want to fight with you. I’ll weather the paparazzi storm like I always do.”

“That’s my girl.” Bob grins like he’s saving the day he just shit on. “I have a surprise for you if you’re up for it?”

He knows the way to Marlow’s heart. Her eyes brighten along with her disposition. “What is it?”

“I’ve been so proud of how you’ve pursued your passion and landed a job at the gallery.

You’ve really pulled your life together.

” Signaling toward me, he continues, “Rad’s in your life, and well, I know living in the city is expensive, so I thought I could help you two lovebirds with a little nest egg. ”

Wait, what? Lovebirds? Nest egg?

“Lovebirds?” Marlow asks, sounding just as confused as I am.

He pulls his napkin back onto his lap with a grin. “Yeah, I know you two like to keep things under wraps, as we say in the industry, but I want to buy your apartment. Then you won’t have to carry that burden.” Eyeing me, he adds, “Fewer hours at work means more time to play at home. Right, Rad?”

“Um . . .” I’m thinking now is not a good time— personally or professionally —to disclose that Tealey’s moving in with me. “Right, sir,” I answer begrudgingly, feeling caught between my job and my life.

Although Marlow’s not hurting for money, her dad’s offer is chum in the water. Not sure how she’s planning to break it to him that we’re not together, but by her wide smile, she’s already fallen hook, line, and sinker into this plan.

Since I’m one-half of the future owner of this purchased apartment, I’m thinking now would be a good time to speak up. “Although we appreciate the offer?—”

“Thank you, Daddy.” Marlow throws her arms around him. “We’ll take it.”

“Uh.”

She turns to me. “Don’t worry. It will all work out how it’s supposed to.”

Between gritted teeth, I say, “It’s too generous.”

Shrugging, she laughs. “He wants to.”

“I want to. I like to keep things in the family. That’s why I asked you to represent me. You can run interference with the press. You can’t break client privilege, and since you’re dating Marlow, they won’t drag her into the media this time. It’s a brilliant plan.”

And here I thought Marlow was the mastermind behind tonight’s dinner. I think she did as well, but Bob’s outplayed us both. It actually is a brilliant plan. I don’t know whether to be impressed or worried.

He takes a long pull of his scotch, and then adds, “My baby girl snagging a prestigious East Coast bachelor, a Wellington, at that, will bring plenty of good PR. And you won my daughter’s heart, so everyone wins.”

Everyone does not win, namely me.

Two things:

Firstly —Why the fuck would he assume Marlow and I are dating?

Secondly —Tealey will be pleased to know that I figured out what snagging entails.

I start, “I didn’t snag?—”

Her index finger swings in her father’s direction. “Back up. You retained Rad because you thought we were together?”

“Yes, and because he’s good at what he does.”

Shooting me a hard glare, she says, “I wasn’t told.”

“I—”

“Shh!” Holding her finger straight up, she stares at me, and then she bites her lip, her expression morphing from anger to . . . oh shit . As the puzzle pieces fall into place, I realize she’s already two steps ahead. “Weren’t you trying to make partner?”

Am I about to be blackmailed into marrying Marlow?

What the fuck?

My swallow is as deep as the Grand Canyon. “I am.”

“So, winning a high-profile client’s case would help you achieve that?”

“There’s no guarantee.”

“You’re under oath. Is that a yes or no?”

“I’m not under oath, but yes, it would help.”

A smile that could win the title of Miss America settles across her face. “I’d call that a triple win then.”

My phone buzzes on the seat beside me. When I glance down, Jackson’s sent the latest score. Not only have I lost all logic when it comes to this asinine idea but I’m also about to lose one thousand dollars.

At this point, I’m certain my eyebrows have become one with my hairline. There aren’t enough hours tonight to wade through this absurd scheme, but no way am I just agreeing to please them.

They have some solid points, but I need to get out from under this Marché madness, find fresh air, and clear my head.

There must be a solution that serves us better than lying to the world and each other to get what we each want.

And I’d really like to know why Bob Marché thinks I’m dating his daughter. Because that is utterly crazy.

Kill me now.