Page 107 of The Love Rematch
“Then where does that leave us?”
“Well.” She shrugs. “I flew nineteen hours to get here, so I’m going to go find my sister, with or without you.”
“I was kicked out of the hotel.”
She snorts. “Without you, then.”
“They’re planning to ambush you.” He steps in her path to stop her. “Trish, Nina, the crew. They know you’ll go in guns blazing, ready to burn the place down. The cameras will be waiting. They want a scene. They thrive off the drama. Don’t give it to them.”
She pushes past him with a sneer.
“They’ll air it,” he says.
Sam stops cold.
“They’ll air it,” he repeats. “To millions of viewers. Don’t think they won’t. The juicier the reveal, the better. So whatever it is you won’t tell me, if you want it to stay private, don’t barge in there like a wrecking ball. The only thing you’ll destroy is Emily.”
“Well, what should I do, then?” she snaps.
Jake steps closer and lowers his voice. “Exactly what I tell you.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
emily
“Let me in!”
The shout is the first thing in hours to penetrate Emily’s stupor.
Sam.
She bolts up in bed, her head pounding, her throat gummy, more dried snot on her cheeks than she cares to admit. She has no idea how long it’s been since Cooper left her room. All she remembers is the caring way he wrapped his arms around her and held her hair back as she puked, the cameras in their face, and Nina saying something about food poisoning. He tucked her in, kissed her cheek, then left. She hasn’t moved since—until now.
“Sam!”
The name comes out as more of a croak than an actual word. Emily half falls off the bed and stumbles over her feet in her haste to get to the door.
A fist pounds on wood.
“Emily? Emily!” There’s more knocking, followed by unintelligible shouting. Then, “Get off me, you assholes! I want to see my sister. Emily! Em! Let me in!”
She reaches the door and wrenches it open. Sam breaks away from the security guard trying to restrain her and crushes Emily to her chest. For a moment, nothing exists outside those two familiar arms squeezing her half to death. She feels whole for the first time in six weeks, her other half since before birth finally returned. With a sob, Emily pulls her sister closer. Tears start to flow, a mix of elation and devastation, the highest high paired with the lowest low. Sam is the only one in the world who will understand what she’s going through right now, but Emily doesn’t even know how to begin to explain that she made all the same mistakes all over again.
“Sam, I— He— I can’t— I can’t breathe—”
She hyperventilates. Her breath comes in wheezing bursts as she trembles against her sister’s chest. Sam pulls back and grabs Emily by the cheeks to hold her gaze. Their golden eyes are the same, yet so different. Sam’s ooze authority, giving off a commanding air Emily has never been able to master.
“Shh,” her sister coos and wipes her tears. “Shh. I know. Iknow, and that’s why I’m here.”
The insinuation stops Emily cold. She searches Sam’s face for a sign, unable to read her expression.
What does she know?
How could she possibly know?
Before Emily can ask, Sam steps to the side to reveal the camera at her back. She grabs Emily by the hand and pulls her deeper into the bungalow. Nina and Phil follow silently behind, moving like shadows in the dark. The blinking red light above the lens is the only indication that they’re real. Sam guides her to the couch and they sink to the cushions together with their hands clutched, mirror images of one another.
“I’ve been trying to reach you for a month,” Sam says, turning briefly to the side to glare toward the producer lurking in the background. “These assholes wouldn’t connect my call, and then after a three-hour delay and a nineteen-hour flight, they had the audacity to try to lock me in my room until the morning. But this can’t wait, Em.”
