Tinsel (Lark Cove #4)(4)

The reporter had zeroed in on the fight and security escort.

Her feature read more like an exposé, and her words had tainted Malcom’s beautiful photograph on the cover.

But at least I wasn’t alone. The reporter had ripped the other four socialites in her feature to shreds too. The five of us were a joke. A drain on society. We weren’t princesses in five royal American families. We were silly women parading around a city of intellect and culture, infecting it with our shallow existences.

A part of me wished my father were more vindictive. Or at least more protective of his baby girl. He could easily buy NY Scene and ruin that reporter’s career.

Except he wouldn’t do that. Because she hadn’t really told a lie, had she?

That reporter had sat across from me on my cream couch in this very room, smiling and sipping a cappuccino while asking me her questions and taking notes.

I’d told her how I’d gotten an interior design degree from an art institute in Manhattan, but by the time I’d graduated, I’d hated interior design. I’d told her I’d been unlucky in love, sparing her the details that were none of her or anyone else’s business. I’d told her my preference for Fendi over Gucci. When she’d asked what accomplishment I was most proud of, I’d told her it was finding Carrie, my personal chef.

I’d told her about me.

And she’d turned me into a hideous fool.

“Oh my god.” I sobbed harder into my hands.

Was I the person she’d portrayed? Was that how everyone saw me?

If it was, I couldn’t stay here in the city. I couldn’t stomach walking past people, wondering if they’d read the article.

I dried my eyes and picked up my phone then pulled up my older brother’s number. He lived in Montana with his wife, Thea, and their three kids. They didn’t sell NY Scene in Lark Cove, but there was no doubt he would have heard about the article by now.

News traveled fast across the country when the topic was my epic failures. I was sure Logan would be just as disappointed as Daddy. He’d told me on more than one occasion to grow up.

Whatever. I dialed his number anyway. I didn’t expect or need his sympathy. What I needed right now was an escape, and Montana was the first place that came to mind.

“Hi, Sofia.” He sounded annoyed. Aubrey had probably called him after sending me that text.

“Hi.” I sniffled, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. “Look, before you lecture me, I know I screwed up. I trusted that reporter when the smart thing to do would have been to keep my mouth shut.”

“Probably.”

“I didn’t mean to disparage our family. I just . . .” Wanted to make you all proud. “I just made a mistake.”

“It happens.” His voice softened. “Dealing with the press can be tricky.”

“Yeah. It sucks.”

“What can I do?”

“I was actually wondering if your boathouse was empty for New Year’s.”

“Sure. We’d love to have you. Just let me know when you’ll be here, and I’ll pick you up from the airport.”

“Thank you.” I pushed myself up off the floor, stepping on one of the magazines as I walked out of the living room. “I’ll be there tonight.”




“Good morning,” I said on a yawn, walking into the kitchen.

“Morning.” Thea, my sister-in-law, was standing by the coffee pot. “You’re up early.”

I shrugged. “I’m used to meeting my trainer at seven, which is five Montana time.”

“Coffee?” She took another mug from a cupboard.

“Yes, please.” I slid onto a barstool at the island in their kitchen. “Thank you for letting me come out here on short notice.”

She delivered my mug, then brought over her own and sat two barstools away. “You’re welcome here anytime.”

Was I? Her tone wasn’t convincing.

Thea and I hadn’t gotten off to a good start, which was my fault entirely. She’d come to New York with Logan about five years ago, just after they’d started seeing one another. Well, they’d actually met years before in the hotel bar where Thea had been working. They’d hooked up and gone their separate ways, but not before Thea had gotten pregnant with no way of tracking Logan down.

Lucky for them, fate had intervened and delivered Logan here to Lark Cove and back into Thea’s life. And he’d met five-year-old Charlie—his daughter.

But fate wasn’t something I believed in, so when he’d brought her home to meet our family, I’d been skeptical, to say the least. Actually, I’d been a total bitch, certain that Thea’s story was full of holes and that all she really wanted was to steal our family’s fortune.

I’d thrown one of Logan’s ex-girlfriends in Thea’s face. I’d treated her like trash and dismissed Charlie completely. I’d judged her solely on her occupation as a bartender.

Ugh, I’m the worst.

I’d been trying ever since to get into Thea’s good graces. But since I only saw them two or three times a year, my progress had been slow. Especially because Thea and I had nothing in common except our last name.

Most would call us both beautiful. Thea certainly was with her long dark hair, sparkling eyes and blinding smile. But she had an inner beauty that catapulted her to a different level. She worked hard, running her own business. She was an artist, creating sculptures and paintings that spoke to the soul. She didn’t care about material things or social status. Her goal in life was to raise happy children.