Chapter 3

The next afternoon, I had an appointment at a spa on the Upper East Side.

Facial. Monthly thing. I needed it after the week I'd had.

The room was dim. Soft music. Lavender smell.

I lay on the table. Face covered in some mask. Cucumber slices on my eyes.

The aesthetician stepped out. Said she'd be back in ten.

I heard the door open again.

"Did you forget—"

The cucumber slices were lifted off.

Declan stood over me.

"What the fuck?"

"We need to talk."

"Get out."

"Not until you listen."

I tried to sit up. The mask was still on my face. I couldn't see well.

He pushed me back down. Gently. But firm.

"Stop seeing him."

"No."

"Sloane—"

"How did you even know I was here?"

"I know everything about you."

That should have scared me.

It just pissed me off.

"That's creepy."

"That's the truth."

I wiped the mask off my face. Sat up.

"You need to leave."

"Break up with him. I'll give you whatever you want."

"I don't want anything from you."

"What about Blair?"

He paused.

"What about her?"

"Are you still seeing her?"

"We're friends."

"Friends don't kiss."

"It was one time. You saw one photo."

"One photo was enough."

"It didn't mean anything."

I laughed.

"You really believe that?"

"Yes."

"Then you're an idiot."

His jaw tightened.

My phone buzzed on the side table.

A notification lit up the screen.

Apple Watch alert.

Rhett's location.

Here.

This building.

Declan saw it too.

"He's here?"

"Apparently."

We both looked at the door.

Footsteps in the hallway.

Then a voice.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for someone?"

Rhett.

I grabbed Declan's arm.

"Don't."

"Why not?"

"Just don't."

The receptionist answered. "What's the name?"

"Uh, Sloane? Sloane Hartley?"

My heart was pounding.

Declan was staring at me.

"She's in the other building," the receptionist said. "Across the street."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks."

Footsteps. Walking away.

I let out a breath.

Declan pulled his arm free.

"Why are you protecting him?"

"I'm not protecting him."

"Then what was that?"

"None of your business."

He leaned down. Close.

"Everything about you is my business."

"Not anymore."

He looked at me. Something dark in his eyes.

Then he turned.

Walked out.

I sat there.

My hands were shaking.

Rhett was here. At the same spa.

Why?

I got dressed. Paid. Left.

On the subway home, I pulled out my phone.

Opened Instagram.

Scrolled through my feed.

Stopped.

Blair's latest post.

Photo of a private jet. Caption: "LA bound ✈️"

Posted two hours ago.

I clicked on her profile. Scrolled down.

Another post from this morning.

Coffee cup. Bagel. A storefront in the background.

I zoomed in.

The sign read "Sullivan Street Bakery."

I knew that place.

Rhett had brought me bagels from there. Yesterday morning.

Same time Blair posted this.

I scrolled back up.

Her jet photo.

I opened Rhett's Instagram.

His latest post.

Gate number at JFK. Caption: "See you soon, LA 🌴"

Same time as Blair's.

I clicked back to her photo.

Zoomed in on the background.

Luggage. Designer bags. Hard to see details.

But there.

In the corner.

A backpack.

Columbia University logo.

Rhett's backpack.

I sat back.

They were together.

Going to LA together.

My phone buzzed.

Text from Declan.

Photos. Three of them.

First one: Rhett and Blair at the airport. Walking side by side.

Second: Premiere event. Red carpet. Blair in the front. Rhett in the background. Watching her.

Third: Hotel lobby. Late night. Rhett sitting on a couch. Blair next to him. Close.

The message underneath:

"He's not who you think he is."

I stared at the photos.

Rhett and Blair.

Blair and Rhett.

Of course.

It clicked.

Four years ago.

Declan had dragged me to a charity gala. I didn't want to go. But he insisted.

"You need to meet people," he said.

By people, he meant his people.

I wore a dress from Nordstrom. Everyone else wore designer.

I stood in the corner. Holding champagne I didn't drink.

Blair was there. Center of attention. Beautiful dress. Perfect smile.

Declan spent the whole night by her side.

I watched from across the room.

At one point, a younger guy came up to her. College age. Good-looking.

They talked. She laughed.

He looked at her like she was the sun.

Then Blair saw me.

Pointed me out to the guy.

They both looked at me.

She said something.

He laughed.

I couldn't hear it. But I knew.

They were talking about me.

The scholarship girl. The nobody.

Declan's charity case.

I left early that night.

Took a cab home alone.

Declan didn't even notice.

Now I pulled up a photo of that night. Someone had tagged me in it. Years ago.

I zoomed in on the background.

There.

The young guy with Blair.

It was Rhett.

Younger. Different haircut.

But definitely him.

Four years ago.

He already knew who I was.

He'd been watching me even then.

My phone buzzed again.

Declan calling.

I answered.

"Did you see them?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"I need to think."

"Sloane—"

"Goodnight, Declan."

I hung up.

Sat there on the subway.

Rhett wasn't just Declan's nephew.

He was Blair's... what? Friend? Partner?

He'd been helping her all along.

The deaf act. The sweet boyfriend routine.

All of it.

To break me and Declan up for good.

So she could have him.

I almost laughed.

They really thought this would work.

The train stopped. My station.

I got off. Walked home.

Let myself into my apartment.

Tomorrow I'd deal with this.

Tonight I needed sleep.

I set my phone down.

Took a shower.

Got into bed.

But I couldn't sleep.

I kept seeing that photo.

Four years ago.

Rhett and Blair.

Looking at me.

Laughing.

The next morning, I woke up to pounding on my door.

I checked the time. 7 AM.

The pounding continued.

I got up. Walked to the door.

Looked through the peephole.

Declan.

I opened the door.

He pushed inside.

His mouth was on mine before I could speak.

I shoved him back.

"You're insane!"