Page 99 of The Bad Girl

“I can’t tell you how lucky I feel to be here. To be sitting across from you, someone familiar.”

My heart drops, and for the first time, I realize that this isn’t about me. He didn’t invite me here to profess his love for me or his past regrets. Tom is making some kind of amends, not just with me, but with everybody.

I drop the act and reach across the table, putting my hand on his. “It’s good to be sitting across from you, too,” I say with a smile.

“Enough about me, tell me about your life.”

At this point, I decide to wholly ditch the script and get real. “For the first time in my life, I don’t have a plan, and I’m scared.”

His brow shoots up. “Oh?”

“I’m officially unemployed, though InStryde has been generous with their severance. Now, everyone knows my name—Oh! And I’m sure you’ve seen my boobs…again.”

Tom’s cheeks flush red. “Yeah, they’re spectacular.”

“I have to be careful where I go. My parents are divorcing. My boss—well, never mind that.”

“Jeez, Nadine, I’m sorry to hear about that.”

“I took such pride in being safe and secure, making all the right choices, doing the right thing, but now, I’m not so sure I played my cards right in this game of life.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I was the embodiment of chaos and didn’t turn out much better.”

I smile. He smiles. Maybe this is our moment?

Then, as I’m sitting there staring deeply into the eyes of my one-time crush, I feel my chair being shoved abruptly from the table.

“You!” a man shouts.

Me?

I look up to see a man in torn jeans and a Harley Davidson tee shirt looking at me through dark sunglasses.

“It figures I’d find you here, cavorting with your next little snack!”

“Wait, what?” I gasp, unsure of who this man is.

I blink, trying to place him. He’s certainly familiar. His voice, the streak of red hair…

Prince Harry!What the hell is he doing? And why is he in a Harley Davidson tee-shirt?

Tom gets up from his seat. “Excuse me, but I think you need to leave,” he says, flexing his enormous biceps.

“Oh, you think you’re something special. Well, this sweet little thing,” he circles a finger at me, “is a man-eater, and she’ll damn near rip your heart out and eat it with her morning tea.”

Oh, no! Not this.

On some level, Harry thinks he’s doing me a favor. He’s making me seem badder, more desirable, aloof with love—things that would undeniably attract a man like Tom.

Unfortunately for me, Tom and I were in the middle of a moment, and from what he was confessing to me, I have an idea that he’s ready to leave his bad boy past behind.

I stand, facing Harry. “Harry, you need to listen—”

“I will take no more of your gaslighting!” he snaps back at me, actually snapping his fingers.

How did Harry actually think he could pull this off?Regardless, the only way over this is through it.

“Honestly, you take twice as long to get ready than I do, and my CPA has better fashion sense.”