“I know, right?”

“Is Damien making him shut down Lost Tides?”

I shake my head. “Nope. He said he’d let the market decide—which is fine by me, because Cortez is going to kick serious butt. But he also said that if he catches even a whiff of more dirty tricks, he’ll string Calloway up by his balls. And that’s pretty much a direct quote.”

“And Damien could manage it, too,” Cass says. “Calloway must be pissing himself.”

“I hope so. The one I feel bad for is Rachel. She really liked Trent, and now she’s pretty much destroyed. I called and told her everything last night. I didn’t want her to come in and get slammed with gossip unprepared.” I make a face. “She’s taking the day off.”

“So your good deed landed you more extra work?”

I nod. “But that’s okay. The busier I am, the less time I have for worrying.”

“And Jackson?”

I crumple the bag from my croissant, then hold my coffee in both hands, wanting the warmth. “He’s worrying enough for the both of us.”

“About what Evelyn told you about the movie?”

“About everything,” I say. “But the movie’s got the big neon sign over it at the moment. It’s like he’s having to deal with all of the hell of being a suspect, but the upside was that at least the blackmail threat was gone and the movie was a bust.”

“And now he’s still a suspect and the movie may actually happen, so it’s like fate just kicked him in the balls?”

“That’s about it,” I admit. On the whole, I think he handled the news pretty well. We’d actually gone to my apartment last night, then spent the evening walking the Third Street Promenade and then all the way down to the pier. After that, we’d watched late night television in bed and fallen asleep in each other’s arms. On the one hand, it had felt nice to just be together. But that niceness was colored by worry and frustration.

“I just want a reality that isn’t full of drama and uncertainty.” I sound whiney and mopey, but since I’m only talking to Cass, I don’t need to try and put on a good face.

Cass puts her arm around me, and I lean against her. “I know you do. You’ll get it.”

She says the words firmly, but I don’t believe her. Every day, I’m getting more and more scared. Because every day seems to prove the adage that the good never lasts. It just gets swept away with the drama.

Hell, wasn’t that the story of my life? My childhood destroyed by my father.

My romance with Jackson interrupted by my own horrible nightmares.

And now every time we take a step forward in our relationship, we’re slapped back. Sabotage. Murder. Even the little victories get ruined. Like yesterday. We solved the riddle of the sabotage, only to learn that the damn movie was barreling down on us all over again.

And what really scares me is the pattern. Because if the good is always followed by the bad, then doesn’t that mean that I’ll inevitably lose Jackson? Either because he ends up behind bars? Or, god forbid, because we just can’t make it work?

I pick at the label on my coffee, frowning. “There’s more,” I say. “About Ronnie, I mean.”

Cass, who knows me well enough to understand that I’ve got something major on my mind, turns to face me directly. “I’m listening.”

I lick my lips. “Jackson wants me to be Ronnie’s guardian if he goes to jail.”

“Whoa,” Cass says. “I’m not surprised, though. I mean, he loves you. Who else would he want his daughter to be with?”

“I know. Believe me, I get that. But—”

“But you’re scared.”

“Fucking terrified,” I admit.

“Don’t be. He’s not going to jail.”

I make a face. Considering everything that’s happened recently, that kind of optimism is nothing more than a platitude.

“And if he does, I think it’s great that she’ll be with you. You’ll do awesome, Syl. I know you, remember? And I know what you’re capable of.”

Her words are encouraging, and I cling to them like a lifeline. Cass had a great relationship with her dad, and I know that she believes that I can do this, and her faith warms me up from the inside. But that warmth doesn’t burn away my doubt.

Cass is watching me closely. “You don’t have to be someone else, you know.”

I frown. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You don’t have to be Mommy, or Aunt Sylvia, or whatever it is that she might call you. Just be Sylvia. Just be yourself. You’ll be fine.”

I lift a shoulder. “Maybe. I don’t know. It scares the crap out of me.”

“I know it does.” She puts an arm around me and squeezes. “But it’s going to be fine. Is he bringing her out here now?”

I shake my head. “He’s thinking about it. He told me last night that he considered bringing her out this weekend, figuring that way he could spend time with her in case—well, in case he’s arrested and there’s no more time to spend. But then this thing with the movie ramping up happened and he’s worried about dumping her into the spotlight.”

“Makes sense. Poor Jackson, though.”

I nod, because I agree. But my horrible, guilty secret is that I’m relieved. And I hate myself for it, because I don’t want to deprive Jackson of his daughter. But I’m so damn nervous about playing a role in raising her, this fragile little life that I may end up being responsible for.

And while I’m almost convinced that I can do it, I’m still selfishly happy for the reprieve.

Beside me, Cass’s phone beeps, and she glances at the screen. “Siobhan’s almost done. Wanna walk with me to the museum?”

I’m tempted, but I shake my head. “I should get back to it.” As we start to rise, I remember what I keep forgetting. “Ollie told me on Monday to tell you hello. And no rush, but he’s wondering what you’re thinking about the franchise.”

“Oh.” She’s already on her feet, but now she sits back down.

My eyes widen. “Trouble?”

“No. I don’t think so. But I’ve been talking with Siobhan and I’m going to put it on hold.”

“Really?” I’m both surprised and concerned. This is her passion project, and one of the huge problems with her previous girlfriend, Zee, was that she wasn’t supportive at all. I hadn’t expected the same from Siobhan.

“Not permanently,” Cass says, apparently reading my mind. “But Siobhan pointed out that right now, I’m the face of the company. But nobody outside the walls of my studio knows me. So I’m going to hire a publicist and start advertising. Really get my name out there. Create a logo. Brand myself. That kind of thing. Because I need that to lure franchisees, but also just to make my brand stronger, you know?”

“I think that’s brilliant.”

“It was Siobhan’s idea,” she says, and I’m certain she can see my relief on my face. “I know, right? Zee was such a slug. But Siobhan and I click.” Her grin is wicked. “In more ways than one.”

She stands again, then reaches down to give me a hand up before pulling me into a hug. “You and Jackson click, too,” she says. “And that’s important. It’ll get you through a lot of shit.”

“Maybe,” I say, hugging her back.

“Trust me,” she says. “It’s all going to be fine.”

I don’t answer. I hope she’s right, of course, but I can’t quite bring myself to believe her.

Two hours later, I’m wishing I had taken that walk to the museum because my head is about to explode from juggling eight million projects at once. “I’ll find room in the budget,” I say to the recalcitrant supervisor on the other end of the phone line. “Work twenty-four hours if you have to, but the helipad and the entire area need to be cleared and repaired by Monday.”

I hang up the phone and close my eyes, then press my fingertips to the bridge of my nose. Despite working nonstop since my coffee break, I’ve still only made a dent in the cleanup. Or in my to-do list, for that matter.

I’m about to dive into the next task when Ethan calls. At least, I think it’s Ethan. Since I’m assuming my dad won’t pull that horrible stunt again, I take the risk and answer it.