Page 23 of Red, White, and You

Here. With her.

The bonus money feels like a bad memory. A mistake I made before I knew her. Before I saw what she’s built, who she really is. Before I realized trying to change her would be like painting over a masterpiece.

I’m going to tell her. Today. The whole truth. She deserves that—and more.

When I open the bakery door, the scent of sugar and warm vanilla hits me like a hug. But the woman behind the counter doesn’t look like the one I kissed under the stars.

Gigi’s frosting cupcakes with precise, mechanical focus. She doesn’t look up.

“Morning, beautiful,” I say, leaning on the counter with a grin.

“We’re closed.”

“The sign says open.”

“The sign is wrong.”

Something in my chest tightens.

“Gigi?”

She finally looks up. Her eyes are green fire. “What?”

Is she mad at me? What did I do wrong?

I run a hand through my hair, unsure how to respond. “Look, about last night—”

“Yes, let’s talk about last night.” She sets the piping bag down. Her voice is sharp and calm. Too calm. “Tell me, Phoenix… was kissing me part of the job description?”

The floor drops out from under me.

“Gigi—”

“Because I have to say, you’reverygood at your job. Thorough. Convincing. Fifty thousand dollars buys a lot of charm, huh?”

She knows.

“Please,” I say, stepping forward. “Let me explain.”

“Oh, I’d love that. Truly. Explain how seducing me was just part of your contract.”

“Seducing you? No. God, no. It wasn’t like that.”

“Then whatwasit like?” she demands, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a lot like you showed up, played the long game, and got a nice little bonus for your trouble.”

“I never needed the money,” I say quickly. “I was going to tell you today. I swear, I was. I agreed to help your parentsbeforeI knew you. Before I understood what they were asking me to do.”

“You mean before you realized how easy it would be to play me?” Her voice breaks, just slightly, and she shuts her eyes like she’s furious at herself for letting it.

“I wasn’t playing you.”

“Then what do you call it?” she snaps. “You let me believe something real was happening here. You made mefeelthings, Phoenix.”

“Itwasreal. Every second after I met you.”

She laughs—a brittle, bitter sound. “Right. Because nothing says sincerity like taking a fifty-thousand-dollar bribe and keeping it a secret.”

“I’m not going to keep the money! I haven’t even brought your parents’ proposition up, have I? At the bake sale, you told me to drop it, and I have.” I lean against the counter, trying to make her meet my gaze. “I didn’t come here to hurt you. I just wanted to help.”

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