Page 138 of The Price of Scandal

“The vegan beauty Instagram influencer speaks the truth,” Cam teased.

“You guys don’t really want to hear this,” I sighed.

“Yes. We do,” Luna said firmly. “Start at the beginning.”

So I hit them with it. All of it. Starting with my revelation in the hallway at AHA and then moving on to Trey’s phone call, my mother’s demands, the media shitstorm. And then Derek. Or, more precisely, Derek and Lita.

They listened without interrupting until the end.

“And to top it off, my father calls me and tells me the board is expecting my resignation from Flawless by tomorrow at nine.”

“That’s fucking bullshit,” Cam snapped.

“And how does that make you feel?” Luna asked, resting her chin on her hand.

“How does that make me feel? Really fucking shitty, Moon.”

I felt wrung out and defeated. And perhaps just slightly, marginally better for at least releasing the words from the body.

“Great. That’s exactly how you should feel,” Luna said approvingly. The monks above us hit a particularly monotonous note.

“I’d like to point out that Ems here seems to be way more upset over that British sex god than about Flawless,” Cam said.

“I’m not,” I argued.

“Babe, you are,” Luna said gently. “He hurt you.”

Deeply. Irreparably. Scarringly.

Cam raised a finger. “Listen, this is not coming from a disloyal place, but you don’t actually believe that he screwed around with Lita, do you?”

“You saw the pictures,” I said.

“Technically, that’s not an answer,” Luna pointed out. “We’ve all seen the pictures, and I’m still inclined to agree with the beautiful Cam here.”

I heaved a sigh and thought about Lita’s superpower ability to seduce a man. Derek’s flirtatious charm. “Look, even if they didn’t have sex, those pictures made it very clear that something beyond business was happening.” My stomach rolled again. Dear God, did I even have any liquid left in my body? “Something that he kept from me after I made it abundantly clear that anything less than complete transparency was a deal-breaker for me.”

“Fair enough. He screwed up big time,” Cam agreed. “But I’m seeing a well-orchestrated, multi-pronged smear campaign. All of the rest of it is bullshit. So why wouldn’t the pictures be bullshit too?”

I hated the vile spark of hope that flared pathetically to life in my chest. I wanted to kill it.

“I don’t know. Does it even matter?” He was still doing something wrong, my survival instinct screamed at me.

Cam took the empty wine glass from me and refilled it from the bar cart. There was a bonsai tree next to a bottle of her favorite organic vodka.

Luna shook out her wild hair over her shoulders. “Cam’s right. There’s no way all of these stories were cooking independently of one another. Someone is out to get you.”

“Yeah, and that someone succeeded.”

The sound of a small boat engine caught our attention. We saw lights out on the bay. They were speeding in our direction.

“If this is the paparazzi, I’m shooting them with a flare gun,” Cam said, gaining her feet.

Together we walked down to the beach, wine glasses wielded as weapons. A glossy wooden dinghy beached itself a few yards from us. Something disco-ball sparkly moved behind the wheel. “All yours, Martin.”

Daisy, dressed in a captain’s hat, glitzy, silver cocktail dress, and life preserver, climbed over the stern and hopped down into the water.

“Shoes!” she called.