by Alisha Rai
Knots in her belly, Katrina hit the mute button and reached into her pocket to clutch her rock tightly. With her other hand, she continued smoothing Zeus’s fur. Double the coping behaviors.
The perky newscaster, the same one who had interviewed Becca, came on the screen. “We have a new development in the CafeBae story we brought you earlier in the week. For those who don’t know, this was the meet-cute heard around the world.” He paused. “Or was it? A growing backlash has started on social media against the original poster of this possible rom-com in the making, with some saying that this was a gross invasion of privacy.”
It was a bit rich for users on the same platforms that had helped invade her privacy to now wonder over whether that should be okay, but such was life.
“Please welcome Mona Rodriguez, the owner of French Coast, the café where CafeBae started.”
The split screen showed Mona, standing behind her counter, beaming. Katrina had told her to make sure she wore branded gear. If nothing else, the woman should get free advertising out of this. Mona had informed her traffic had already gone up significantly in the last week. “Hello.” Mona waved at the camera, and then cleared her throat. “I have a prepared statement from the young woman in this clusterf—ah, the woman who was unfairly targeted during this phenomenon.”
“Please, go ahead.” The host gestured to her, and the screen expanded so it was only Mona.
Mona squinted at the phone in front of her. Katrina had written the statement quickly, had thought it best to speak from the heart, but now her stomach churned. Had she said enough? Or too much?
“Last week, I went to a café. Because it was crowded, I agreed to share a table with a young man. I did not know him. I have not seen him since then.
“I had no idea that while I politely chatted with the man, someone was taking my picture, eavesdropping, and fictionalizing our entire interaction. I did not consent to any part of that.
“I believe real-life fairy tales exist, but this is not one of them. This was not a movie. This was not a meet-cute. These were lies, and a gross trampling of my privacy. Strangers have spent days speculating about who I am, so I’ll tell you: I am you. A real, regular person trying to live their life. I do my best. I hope you do, too.
“Everyone’s face and bodies ought to belong to themselves. I humbly beg you: please respect my privacy. Let this story end. Thank you.”
Mona looked up and sniffed. “And this part isn’t in here, but I’ll add that I know this young woman, and she is one of the finest people I have ever met. If anyone out there continues to hound her after this, they can kiss my—” a bleep blocked out the rest of Mona’s sentence, but she looked satisfied to have gotten her point across.
The screen cut to the show host, who appeared suitably concerned. “Thank you, Ms. Rodriguez.” The camera zoomed out to include a panel of the other show hosts. “What do you all think of this? Is there a right to privacy in this world of cell phones and—”
Katrina muted the television. It was Jas who broke the silence. “Excellent.”
Rhiannon rose up on her elbows. “Yes, concur. Couldn’t have written a better statement myself.”
Katrina released a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. Her shoulders straightened, renewed confidence flowing through her. “Thank you so much.”
“The fairy tale part was a little mushy for me, of course, Princess Katrina.”
Her cheeks turned pink at Rhiannon’s teasing words. She carefully avoided looking at Jas. “The fairy tale isn’t just about the princess,” she said. “There’s also the fairy godmother.” She inclined her head to Rhiannon. “The little mouse friend.” She gestured to Jia.
Jia sat up. “Wait a minute, how come she gets to be the fairy godmother, and I’m the mouse? We all know I’m the one who would dress the princess for the ball! Rhiannon would have her out there in a sweatshirt and kicks.”
“The mice sew the princess’s dress, they are the fashion designers,” Katrina argued.
Jia pursed her lips. “If I must be a cute creature, I want to be the dragon, at least.”
Katrina smiled. “Fine. You’re the dragon friend.”
Rhiannon stood and stretched, her shirt lifting to reveal her flat belly. “I’m bushed. Gonna go to bed and get in a nap before Samson gets here.” She winked at Katrina. “Proud of you, seeing how you handled this whole thing.”
“It’s not over,” she fretted. Who knew if this would reduce interest in her.
No. She stuck her hand into her pocket, over her cell phone. The text she’d sent her dad earlier made it feel weighty. He hadn’t responded, but she assumed he’d show.
“You took the teeth out of it. If someone does reveal your identity now, it won’t be because they’re trying to reunite two lovers, but because they’re assholes, and they’ll be treated as such. Trust me, people will be discussing a symptom of a larger issue, not you.” Rhiannon yawned. “Good night. Morning? Whatever.” She moved to the door, and paused next to motionless, silent Jas. The two of them didn’t interact that much, but they had a cordial, polite relationship.
The hug Rhiannon gave Jas was personal, though. “Samson said he’d come by your cottage in the afternoon, once I’m done with him.” Rhiannon clapped Jas on the arm. “Thanks for taking care of her, big guy.”
Jas raised a perfect eyebrow at Rhiannon. “It’s my job.”
Katrina felt that sharp blow, and filed it away. He didn’t mean it like he’d said it. She knew he had feelings for her.
Or it’s his deep sense of responsibility rearing its head, and he doesn’t really have any personal feelings wrapped up in this. You’re his client.
Her fingers tightened on her phone.
Jia uncoiled herself from the couch and bounced to her feet. “I’m going to get to my Insta and break this down for my followers.”
The door closed behind the two women, and some of Katrina’s anxiety disappeared when Jas crossed the distance between them in a few steps. His hug felt so good and necessary and right.
She drew away and rubbed her nose against his. “Sometimes there’s a prince in the fairy tale too.”
Oh, there it was. Officially the mushiest thing she’d ever said in her whole damn life.
He didn’t seem to mind, though, if his smile was any indication. Or the kiss he gave her.
The sound of the door opening had them both breaking apart and glancing guiltily in that direction. They found two pairs of big brown eyes on them, one almost black, one almost hazel.
“Damn it,” Rhiannon said.
Jia’s expression was smug. “I will take my hundred dollars in tens and fives, thank you.” She waggled her fingers at them. “Go back to whatever you were doing, kids, Mama needed to earn some Vegas money.”
Katrina pressed her forehead against Jas’s chest and huffed out a laugh. After a second, he joined her. “We would have had to tell them sooner or later,” Jas murmured.
They would? Because this was going somewhere? Her heart soared, but it was brought back to the present with the beep of the alarm on her phone. She pulled away from Jas. “I . . . can you drive me to the café?”
He cocked his head. “What? Why? So soon after the broadcast?”
She swallowed. She couldn’t keep this a secret indefinitely, but she knew Jas wouldn’t like her answer, or who she was planning to meet. “I’ll tell you when we get there.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
JAS GLANCED AT Katrina in the passenger seat of the car as he pulled into the alley behind the café. Her shoulders were straight, a frown creasing her brow as she looked pensively out the window. She’d changed into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt when they’d arrived this morning. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a ponytail. A couple of light brown strands had fallen out to caress her cheeks.
He parked the car. She’d been silent for the entirety of the short drive, and that had only deepened the vague sense of unease in his gut. “You’re not here to see Mon
a or Andy, are you.” It was a statement, not a question.
She licked her lips. “No.”
“Then who?”
He didn’t miss that she opened the door and had one foot on the ground before she answered him. “My dad.”
It took him a second to overcome the shock of that statement. By the time he’d closed his mouth and wrestled himself out of his belt, she was already out of the car and opening the back door for Doodle. The dog sauntered next to her mistress, their long legs eating the ground.
“Your father?”
“Yes.”
Thomas King. He’d kept his dossier on the man updated, but that didn’t mean much. “Why are you doing that?”
“It’s something I have to do.”
“I do not think that’s a good idea.” That was an understatement.
“I know. I need to talk to him.” Katrina adjusted the bag on her shoulder.
“You should have told me.” He went silent when Mona bustled into view. The woman beamed at both of them, but Jas nearly cursed. He couldn’t argue with Katrina in front of other people.
“Whoa, who’s this girl?” Mona held her hand out for Doodle to sniff, which the dog did daintily.
“This is Doodle.”
“She’s gorgeous.” Mona straightened. “Did you watch? How did I do?”
“You were magnificent,” Katrina said, and hugged her.
Mona graced Jas with a smile, and then turned back to Katrina. “I know you may not feel comfortable coming back here during business hours.”
Katrina’s smile froze, and his heart clenched.
“Please know my place is open to you whenever you wish.” Mona dropped a key into Katrina’s palm and closed her fingers over it.
Katrina swallowed. “Thank you. I appreciate it very much.”
“Not a problem. You asked for my office.” Mona briskly shepherded them to the small room. “I’ll bring your guest here when he arrives.”
“Thank you.” Katrina moved behind the desk and pulled a stack of checks out of her bag. She proceeded to lay them out neatly on the table.
Jas took two steps to the desk. “Katrina. This is unwise. That man shouldn’t be near you.”
“He already knows about this place, and that I come here. Came here.” She straightened, and her gaze flicked to him. There were ten of the checks lined up on the otherwise bare surface, facedown, little soldiers.
His confusion grew, but so did his concern. “This is a security issue,” he tried again, desperate to change her mind. Doodle sauntered over and sat next to him. At least the dog was on his side. “You kept me in the dark until the last minute. I haven’t investigated him. There’s no extra security in place.”
That stopped her. “I’m sorry, I know. I thought you and Rhiannon and Jia might try to change my mind, and I didn’t want to be swayed.” Loud footsteps came from the hallway and they both looked in that direction. “Please. Trust me.” She placed her phone on the surface of the desk and sat behind it.
He looked at Doodle, who gazed back at him with a weary expression on her face, as if in commiseration.
He marshaled his face into expressionless disinterest when the door opened. Back to being a shadow, unnoticeable.
“Katrina!” The older man swept past Mona and came barreling into the room.
It was hard for Jas not to sneer. Thomas was still handsome, his blond hair now a pure silver. He’d given his daughter a solid bone structure and frame, as well as his sharp cheekbones, but his piercing blue eyes held a cynical coldness Katrina’s brown gaze lacked. His delight to see her felt like a thinly applied mask.
Jas emerged out of the shadows. Thomas faltered at spotting Jas and the dog, but his face grew annoyed when Jas approached him and gestured for him to spread his arms. “Is this really necessary?” Thomas barked.
“It is if you want to see her,” Jas replied, before Katrina could speak. He didn’t really expect the guy to be packing a weapon, but this was his job, even if Katrina had tried to hamstring him.
Plus, he bet it would be galling for Thomas to be searched by the help.
Thomas grumbled, but he let the pat-down commence. Jas pulled a pen knife out of Thomas’s pocket. It was a harmless small blade that wouldn’t do much damage, but Jas kept it out of sheer pettiness. He stepped away.
Thomas opened his mouth, but something in Jas’s expression must have been forbidding enough to shut him up.
Katrina gestured at the seat across from her at Mona’s desk. “Sit, please.”
Thomas shot Jas another wary look.
Now that the man was seated, Jas felt free to melt back into the shadows. All he wanted to do was run Thomas out of the room and take Katrina home, where she could be safe. He clenched his fists. How could she not tell him about this?
“It was so good to hear from you,” Thomas gushed. He glanced around the office and Jas had to fight not to tackle the man over the avariciousness in his gaze. “What a lovely city. And an expensive one. Did your husband leave you a home here?”
“No.” Katrina didn’t elaborate.
Thomas rallied. “Well, good for you, buying a place for yourself. Seems like the little nest egg I put together from your career really paid off.”
Her smile was thin. “The nest egg wasn’t that great once you’d skimmed your take off the top.”
He gave a wounded pout. “I only took my fair share as your manager, Katrina.”
Katrina ran her tongue over her teeth. “Look, why don’t we get this over with? No need to waste time on pleasantries neither of us means.”
The mask slipped. “You summoned me here.”
Katrina crossed her arms over the table. “Because you tried to blackmail me. I simply wanted to make sure you got your money.”
THERE WERE FEW things Katrina had ever found more satisfying than catching her father off guard, she decided. Blunt truth was the best weapon she could possibly ever use against this lying snake of a man.
A quickly cut-off growl caught her attention, and she spared a look at Doodle, but maybe Jas had made that noise? His fists were clenched, his eyes glittering as they regarded Thomas. Those were the only signs of his disquiet. Otherwise, he was still and emotionless.
“Blackmail’s an ugly word.”
“It’s an accurate one.” She paused. She’d spent years rehearsing how this meeting would go, but now the path seemed clear, she knew exactly what she wanted to say.
She tapped her pen on the desk. Her father’s gaze went straight to it, and she didn’t stop the rhythmic noise. She hated sounds like this when she was working, but she was well aware he hated them all the time. “Congratulations. You’ve made a nice little life for yourself in Vancouver. A house, a community, friends you go to the track with. You even have a girlfriend, Lord help her.”
“Are you spying on me?”
“I’ve kept tabs all these years. In case you decided to come crawling back, hunting for more money. That’s why you’re here now, right?”
“I—”
Katrina gestured at the checks spread in front of her. Like Jas, she’d shoved a great deal of her rage and bitterness down over the years, but she welcomed it now. “Do you remember this game? You used to play it with me, only it was food back then. You’d take a plate away if I refused to do whatever you wanted. Auditions, voice lessons, piano, photo shoots. If I behaved, then I got rewarded with the basic fucking thing you were legally obligated to give me.”
If I can go to ten places, then I can date someone.
She blinked. Whoa, now was not the time to have a therapeutic breakthrough, but Jesus. She was still motivating herself in that absurd, if-I-do-x, then-I-get-y mind-set, wasn’t she?
She made a mental note to talk the implications of all that through with Andy later. For now . . .
She touched the check on the far left. “Ten million dollars. That’s what that ransom was for, right?” She touched the paper on the far right. “Over here, one million dollars.�
� She sat back. “I will pay you if you admit you tried to blackmail me yesterday.” She tapped her phone, and the recording icon lit up. She made sure he could see it.
Sweat had broken out on Thomas’s brow. “There’s nothing to admit!”
Doodle’s deep bark caught everyone’s attention. The pup came to her feet and took a menacing step, teeth bared, a growl rumbling in her throat. For the first time, Katrina could see why some people may be startled by her dog’s size. “D—”
“Death, heel.” Jas’s sharp command cut through the dog’s growl.
Death. Katrina hid her smile, but Doodle did heel despite the strange name. She supposed Doodle wasn’t very intimidating.
“Don’t raise your voice to Katrina again,” Jas said coolly. “Death doesn’t like it, and neither do I.”
Katrina cleared her throat, delighted despite the tense atmosphere. “Where were we? Ah yes. Confess to the blackmail, and you can take the money and go. You never contact me again. You don’t tell anyone anything about me. My name never so much as passes your lips. If it does . . . well, I make sure that everyone in the world knows what a piece of shit you are.” Katrina’s eyes widened. “Imagine that. People discovering that CuteCafeGirl is a former cover model who disappeared would be titillating, but finding out her sordid history, how awful her father was? How he manipulated and controlled her for years? How he blackmailed her?” She tsked. “Have you ever gone viral? It’s not everything it’s cracked up to be. You can avoid that, though. Admit that you’re blackmailing me.”
“I will not.”
“Cool. I take a million away for every second you waste my time.”
“This is preposterous,” Thomas spluttered.
She picked up the ten-million-dollar check and ripped it in half. “Nine million left. Don’t worry, the millions you lose will be donated to charity,” she added, almost as an afterthought. “I’m not a monster.”
“I’m not incriminating myself on tape.”
Another check ripped. “Eight million.”
Thomas scrubbed his face. “How can I trust you won’t go to the police with that recording?”
“You can’t.” Another rip. “Seven million.”
