Page 65 of Another Fox Bites the Dust

She shrugs, unapologetic. “Everyone knows it, they just kiss his ass because he’s rich and famous. You know how it is.”

“Thank you,” I say, surprised at my own sincerity. Also surprised to realize that I like Laila. She’s a good person. She would be good for Luke.

“The only people who would judge you for your past are probably assholes. Don’t let Blake or anyone keep you from going after something that could be amazing.”

I stare at her. She can’t mean—

“If you ever need anything, for Luke or anyone or even yourself, I mean it, please reach out to me. I may not be as illustrious as Blake, but I have my own cachet.”

She nudges me with her shoulder, and I catch a whiff of her rose and amber perfume. Damn it, why is she so sweet? And smell so nice? She makes it impossible to hate her.

“Do you want more hot cocoa?” she asks.

“Yeah, sure.”

An hour and three cups of cocoa later, I have to pee so bad my back teeth are floating.

“Finley, can I get one of the cart keys? I need to use the restroom.”

“I’ll go with you. I need to grab more firewood. Anyone else need to use the facilities?” she calls out to the group.

“I have to go, too, I’ll come with you,” Taylor says.

“Great,” I murmur. “More fun family times.” If I didn’t hate peeing in the woods, I’d just go squat behind a tree.

Finley gives me her mom stare, the one that saysbe good and keep your trap shut.

I know she’s right. This isn’t the time or place, but Taylor started it earlier with her picking a fight with me over sweet potatoes, for crying out loud.

But for now, she’s being civil enough. We get into the golf cart, taking our seats without issue.

When we arrive at the house, Finley starts loading up the open seat in the cart with firewood, and I head upstairs to use the bathroom, letting Taylor take the closer one downstairs.

When I finish, Taylor is sitting on the couch, waiting for me.

I try to pass by into the kitchen, and she stands, stopping me. “Look, I know you’re going to be pissed at me for all eternity or whatever, but can we set it all aside and pretend to be adults for one day? For Finley and our family?” Her tone is laced with superior condescension.

Don’t let her get to you.“I don’t know, Taylor, can we? You haven’t exactly been holding back.”

She shakes her head. “You’re the one who won’t let go of the past.”

Is she serious right now? Frustration bubbles inside me, mixing with the anger that’s been covering up guilt. My guilt. The toxic mixture forces words to bubble up, and I lash out. “You should have stopped them.”

Her mouth pops open.

There’s a moment of fraught silence while she registers my words, her eyes widening, fists clenching at her sides.

We haven’t talked about this since she first told me, years ago, about the night Aria died. We’ve fought about everything under the sun but never discussed the source.

Her voice shakes when she finally speaks. “I never should have told you anything. I thought I could trust you.”

I ignore the shard of guilt slicing me in the gut. “Why didn’t you stop them? Why didn’t you say anything?”

She throws her hands up. “Why would I have stopped them? They were going home, where they should have been. I don’t even know how they found out about the party.”

“Probably from listening to you.”

Her jaw drops. “You don’t think I feel guilty about it every day?”

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