Page 39 of The Ugly Stepsister Strikes Back

"Uh, okay. How is six o'clock?"

"Six is fine. See you then."

I turned to go, wanting to find out what Ella had done with all the posters and to figure out how I could stop Mercedes from papering the entire school with them again.

I ignored the temptation to turn around and sneak a look at Jake.

From now on I planned on moving forward and to stop looking back.

* * *

Fortunately for me, Ms. Rathbone and Malibu Prep had a zero tolerance policy when it came to bullying. Ella took the stack of posters to the headmistress, and Mercedes sat in the office for most of the morning until her parents arrived. Apparently Mr. Bentley was an attorney and tried to make an argument about Mercedes's actual intent (that she had meant to compliment me on my artistic ability, if you can believe it), but Ms. Rathbone didn't back down.

The headmistress's secretary adored Ella, and gave her the inside scoop. Mercedes had been suspended for three days, and she wouldn't be allowed to attend the masquerade ball. Which I knew probably just killed her, considering I'd overheard her a few days ago bragging about her new Vera Wang dress.

And to top it all off, Ms. Rathbone let Mr. Bentley know that if Mercedes did anything like this again, they would send a letter to her college admissions office outlining her behavioral issues.

That was what made me feel safe—not even torturing me was worth Mercedes's future.

I still spent most of the day on edge, ready to flip the switch to full on freak-out if anyone even so much as mentioned my drawings of Jake.

But no one said a word. The situation had apparently been contained.

One less thing to worry about; only about a million more remained.

Including my "date" with Jake that night.

I didn't want to obsess over it. I told myself that under no circumstances would I spend one minute thinking about having dinner with Jake. This was just about going over our project.

Do you think my head listened?

When I got home I told Ella about meeting Jake and she, predictably, flipped out with excitement. She wanted to dress me up, but I refused. As far as I was concerned, this was not a date. Jake didn't ask me out because he liked me. He asked me to look over our project and to possibly weasel information out of me. She kept trying to talk to me about it, but I shut her down. She looked so sad and disappointed. I couldn't tell her what Mercedes had said. I didn't want to see that look of pity in her eyes again. Plus, I needed to think about how to handle him.

I planned to turn the tables on Jake. If he wanted to hear about Ella or wanted to manipulate me with his charm and good looks and smile and good looks (did I mention his good looks?) he would be out of luck. I would use this time to watch him like I did when we played poker.

If he lied to me, I would know it.

Dad barely noticed when I said I was taking the car, and I turned on the GPS app on my phone. The slightly demented British lady gave me perfect instructions, until she suddenly ordered me to do a U-turn on PCH. I nearly crashed into someone else following the directions but spotted the restaurant on my right.

Zooma Sushi was a small, square looking building sitting on a hillside that overlooked the ocean. Giant oak and maple trees surrounded the entire area. I rolled down the window, and felt the ocean breeze blowing inside the car. Several outdoor tables were set up on the patio. I scanned the area for Jake—I didn't see him or his car. I was ready to deduct points for lateness when I saw him pull up.

My resolve melted a little at the sight of him. He looked so good, and had obviously dressed up. He wore a dark blue button-up shirt and faded blue jeans. He took two stairs at a time until he got to the restaurant door. I saw him stand aside to let an older couple go through the door first. The couple smiled up at him.

Was this the real Jake? The nice guy who thought about other people? The Jake that I had fallen in love with?

Or was the real Jake the one Mercedes had told me about?

Only one way to find out.

I gathered up my courage and picked up my bag and his letterman's jacket from the passenger seat. I headed for the restaurant and let myself in. It was really adorable and romantic. It had a long sushi bar where several people sat, eating and laughing. It also had floor to ceiling windows with the most beautiful views. This was probably his little seduction spot, where he took all his girls. Jake sat next to one of the windows, looking outside.

He saw me and stood up. Buddha help me, he looked even better up close. He seemed nervous. He could be nervous because he was lying to me. Or because he was using me. It could potentially make him feel bad if he had some shady purpose where I was concerned.

I didn't allow myself to consider the possibility that he was nervous for the same reason that I felt nervous.

He smiled. "Hey, you found it."

"I had GPS help," I said as I approached the table. He came around to the other side and held out my chair for me. Half of me didn't want him to be a gentleman. I could pull out my own chair. I didn't need his help. But the other part of me wanted to melt into a pile of goo. I needed to stay suspicious, my mind clear and sharp. I didn't want the world to go hazy and fuzzy like it tended to when I was with him. I handed him his jacket, and he put it on the back of his seat.

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