Page 33 of The Last Love Story (Baker Girls #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

JADE

Lazy Saturday mornings are my favorite thing.

We get up late and have bagels and coffee in bed while we get work done.

I’m almost finished with book nine. This is the fastest I’ve written a book in years, but it helps that I had the entire thing plotted in my head and extensive voice notes to help me remember exactly what I wanted to say in some climactic moments.

It’s crazy that it’s been two months since Justin and I met in person and my entire life changed, but I’m happier now than I knew I could be.

Mostly. We’re still dancing around the L-word , but I need to just woman up and say it. I don’t know if I’m afraid to break our bubble or if I’m that desperate to hear him say it first, but not communicating never got anyone anywhere.

Does that magically make me good at it? Nope .

Both our phones go off a couple of times, and I glance over at mine, not wanting to answer and interrupt my flow, but it’s been driving me nuts all morning.

They’ve been going off here and there. It’s probably the group chat since no one has called, but I’ll get sucked into a conversation if I answer that.

Justin sighs and closes his laptop, then leans over to kiss me.

“I’m going to take a shower. Consider this your twenty-minute warning, because I’m taking you out for brunch when I’m done.”

I smile at him. “Okay, hubby.”

He makes a whiny noise and kisses my neck.

“Don’t do that.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Sorry. I forgot how much you like it when I call you that.”

“Mhm. Somehow, I doubt that.”

He climbs off the bed and grabs his phone, mumbling something to himself about seeing what all the hubbub is.

He makes some kind of strangled noise, and I look up, brow furrowing. He’s standing by the bed, staring at his phone, reading rapidly.

“What the fuck?” he mutters.

“What is it?”

His gaze snaps to me, and he sits back down.

“This fucking guy…”

I shut my laptop and set it aside. “What? What is it?”

“Darren Corval.”

“The skeevy influencer guy?”

“Yeah. You know he got banned from a couple more reader events?”

I nod. Stories about him have been making their way around author circles, and a couple of events dropped him from the allegations about them. Some are much worse than what he did to me.

Justin huffs out a sigh. “Well, he’s trying to take the heat off himself.”

“What do you mean?”

Reluctantly, he hands me his phone.

“He’s tried to say some things about me in some author circles, but I wasn’t worried about it. No one was buying it anyway. Apparently, he needed to kick things up a notch.”

My mouth drops as I read what the creep posted social media this morning.

Social media can be disgusting. These last few weeks have been nothing but a witch hunt, and I’m tired.

Tired of being quiet, and especially not naming names about who started all of this.

But it’s time for me to protect myself and expose the lying frauds who began this disinformation campaign against me.

Justin Ayers and Jade Jackson.

Justin is far from the golden boy everyone knows him as, and Jade is a money-hungry famewhore.

It shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone to learn that their marriage is a sham. All done for publicity to increase Jade’s book sales and Justin’s exposure. They’ve taken advantage of their fans and new readers alike for their own gains.

I met up with Jade two nights before their supposed marriage, and if she was so in love with Justin, why did she have her hands all over me?

When Justin saw, he threatened me, then they made up a story to cover their own asses. Their scam of a marriage is so pathetically see through, I’m shocked no one else has poked holes in it yet.

It’s ridiculous they even tried to fool anyone. All it takes is one look to see they clearly don’t fit together. Someone like her ending up with someone who looks like him? Please.

It’s unfortunate that they’ve tried to play games with their readers. In the end, who they really are will come to light, but I couldn’t stay quiet any longer.

The truth will prevail.

- D

I’m going to throw up.

I’m shaking with fury and absolute dread.

He’s accusing us? And there are so many likes on his post. So many people stepping up to defend him, who, in their comments say, they’ve never even heard of us.

Fuck him.

But also… what do we do? The urge to check all my sales dashboards is strong.

How will this affect my life? My livelihood? Justin’s?

I turn to him, mouth agape.

“Breathe,” he says gently. “It’ll be okay.”

“How? The things he said?—”

“Are lies.”

“And no one has ever believed a lie before. What’s that saying? Lies travel around the world before the truth can get its shoes on?”

“Yeah. And eventually that lie ends up tired and worn through. The truth is still strong and steady. We did nothing wrong, and we have plenty of people who can back us up on that. I’ll go back to that hotel bar and find that bartender. He saw even more than I did.”

I shake my head. “This could destroy our careers.”

“I really don’t believe it will at all. The people who are going to buy his shit weren’t people who were ever going to support us anyway.

He’s angry, and he’s lashing out. That’s what people do when they’re cornered.

The truth is coming for him. I know female authors and influencers who have had issues with him.

All it takes is the trickle of information to start and people will come forward. ”

His words don’t settle me at all.

“What do we do now?”

“We get ready and go to brunch. Later, we can make a joint post, not combating his lies, but clarifying our relationship. Then, as he said, we let the truth prevail. Because it will. ”

I gape at him. “You’re serious? You want me to go to brunch right now?”

He nods vigorously. “Yes. Because he wins if his words hold you back. He wins if his words sideline us. We’re going to keep living and being us. We have nothing to prove.”

But we do, don’t we? I mean, our careers are on the line. At least to some degree. The urge to stand up and scream out a defense is driving me right now.

“Trust me,” he whispers. “I’m going to shower. Want to join me? I’ll distract you.”

He gives me a sweet little smirk, but that’s all way too much right now. My mind is still reeling.

“Uh… I’m just… going to get ready. I’ll get ready.”

He leans in and kisses my cheek. “It’s going to be okay.”

Then he’s up and across the room.

The second the bathroom door is closed, I lunge for my phone, then go back and read his post again.

But I don’t stop there. I do the truly stupid thing and open the comments.

I read a few on Justin’s phone, but this is…

a hellscape. Sure, there are a few people defending us, but there are loads more who have decided I’m now an author they’ll never read, and so many people are saying they’ll never listen to another book Justin narrates and it’s time to burn the books where he’s on the cover.

It’s horrifying.

I check my sales dashboard and it’s a typical day, but these things can change quickly.

I’m sick to my stomach.

What the fuck do we do?

I manage to get off the bed, but rather than go to the closet, I pace. And read more comments.

If they’re not married, she’s destroying his life. She has less to lose. No one even knows who she is. If they are married, he’s cheating. Who’d want to be stuck with her?

It’s those words that stick with me as I look at the bathroom door .

He did so much for me, and all I’m doing for him is ruining his career. One he built for a decade before he met me.

My phone vibrates in my hand, and I almost throw it across the room. But then I see it’s my group text with Zoey and Trish.

Zoey: Are you okay?

Trish: If you need to come over and vent, we’re at Zo’s.

I glance back at the bathroom door. Justin said it’s going to be fine, but I’m not so sure about that. I need to figure out what I’m thinking and how I want to handle it all.

Me: On my way.