Page 113 of Fake Shot

“Can I take care of this?”

She sighs, but it sounds like it’s full of relief. “By all means.”

He doesn’t turn around until I open the door, and by then it’s too late for him to leave because I’ve stepped out, cornering him against the metal railing of the brick stairs.

“I thought I made it clear that you weren’t welcome around here anymore,” I say.

“I want to talk to my daughter.”

“You don’t deserve to talk to her. You don’t deserve whatever help you plan to ask for. You don’t deserve her time, or her attention, or her money. So until you can clean yourself up, you need to disappear into whatever sewer you came from.”

“Who do you think you are?”

I’m pretty sure he asked me that last time he was here. So this time, I will make myself crystal clear.

“I’m the man who’s going to marry your daughter. And I’m going to take care of her, and protect her heart, and show her what it’s like to be loved—since she clearly didn’t see that from the way you treated her mom and then left her and Audrey.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” he spits out.

“Oh, but I do. Sadly, though, you don’t know anything about your kids. All three of them are successful. All three of them are engaged. All three of them are happy. And you don’t know the first thing about any of it, because all you care about is scrounging money off your youngest wheneveryou can catch her feeling sorry for you. But that ends now. Don’t come around again unless you’ve cleaned up your life, or genuinely want help doing so.”

I step back so there’s room for him to pass me and walk down the stairs.

He stands there for a moment, unmoving. Then quietly, still looking down at the steps, he asks, “And if I do want help?”

“Then you know where to find me. But you don’t try to contact Jules again, unless you want me to get Jameson and the police involved in this.”

He purses his thin lips and gives me a curt nod as he heads down the stairs. As I watch him go, I hope that he will take me up on the offer, but I know his history well enough to know how unlikely that is. In the meantime, I’ll have a security system installed so I feel better about her being here when I’m gone.

Chapter Forty-Two

JULES

“Today has been perfect, and you are all amazing, beautiful, strong women,” Lauren gushes as she toasts us with her glass of champagne.

She’s standing at the head of the table, which now has plates of food scattered all along it, amid the decorations that everyone helped pull together yesterday afternoon. There’s no way Morgan and I could have done all of this without everyone pitching in, especially with how exhausted I am after what happened Friday night.

As Lauren sways to one side, she puts her free hand down on the kitchen table to steady herself. I haven’t been counting her drinks, but I’m pretty sure she’s past just being tipsy.

I reach for the champagne and top off everyone else’s glasses to finish the bottle, because I don’t want Lauren to have any more and get sick or be hungover. Then Petrastands and comes to the head of the table, wrapping her arm around Lauren’s waist and anchoring her to her hip.

“Youare an amazing, beautiful, strong woman,” Petra tells Lauren as she takes the champagne flute from her hand and hands it to Morgan. “Look at everything you’ve accomplished in the last year and a half—moving across the country with your two little girls, creating your dream life here, getting back into sports marketing and kicking so much ass at your new job that you already got a huge promotion, and giving Jameson a chance to prove how much he loved you, even after you’d been hurt and were scared to trust again. And you’ve surrounded yourself with women who bring that same energy—who are bold, smart, compassionate, and willing to take big risks.”

She glances around the table where Lauren’s two other best friends, Jackson and Sierra, sit along with Morgan and Paige, Audrey and me, and AJ, who literally flew in this morning for this shower and is headed right back to North Carolina when we’re done.

Lauren rests her head on Petra’s shoulder. “I couldn’t have done any of that without every single one of you.”

“That’s literally what friends and family are for,” Morgan says.

And as we sit around chatting about Lauren and Jameson’s upcoming wedding, now less than two months away, Lauren looks at me and says, “I think Audrey’s next, but are we planning a bridal shower for you after that?”

All eyes turn toward me. Half the people sitting at this table know that Colt’s and my engagement was fake, but the other half don’t. The natural answer to keep up the charadeshould be, “Of course!” But I know what she’s really asking me—are Colt and I going to stay engaged?

“I think so?” I say.

“Why is that a question?” Petra asks.

“How much time do you have?” I joke as a laugh escapes me. “Because it’s areallylong story.”

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