Overnight Sensation(100)

I swallow hard, because it means a lot to hear that.

“And you’re pretty fun as poor chick, too. Besides, I just happen to know an apartment in Brooklyn that can’t wait to welcome you back.” He puts an arm around me.

“Thank you,” I choke out, leaning against him. What a year this has been!

My father clears his throat. “I’m truly sorry, sweetheart. I never thought it could turn out like this.”

I still don’t really know what’s happening. “Are you losing everything?”

“My liquid assets are probably gone.” He flinches. “I thought Kafi’s developmental drug was a safe bet. But I still have my job. For now. I may have to sell the Nashville home and downsize.”

Mom’s sobbing increases in volume.

“And the country club membership will have to go,” he says over her tears. “Everything frivolous.”

I eye my mother, wondering what she does any given day that isn’t frivolous. “Mama, calm down. Your mascara is starting to smear.”

She straightens up immediately and reaches for a tissue. “My poor girl,” she says, turning her teary face toward me. “This is devastating.”

It isn’t, though. Devastating is losing everything in an earthquake or a fire. Devastating is losing the person you love. My mom will come through with most of her designer clothes in a downsized condo somewhere swank.

“Hang in there, Mama. That’s just the shock talking.”

She leaps up, crosses to me, and grabs me into a tight hug. “You’re a good girl, Heidi Jo! Such a good girl.”

I glance beyond her perfumed arms to Jason, who lifts an eyebrow at me. His expression says, Sometimes you’re a very bad girl and I know all about it.

My smile pops into place. I’m so grateful to have him here with me. And I can’t wait to show him my gratitude.

“Mama,” I say gently. “Is there anything I can do for you right now?”

“No,” she sniffs. “I’m going home to Nashville to mourn.”

I bite back my opinions and pat her arm. “Well, call me when you’re feeling calmer. I have to head to Brooklyn and beg Rebecca for a full-time job.” I stare down my father. “Can I assume that you won’t stop her from hiring me?”

He waves a hand in a gesture of assent. Poor Daddy is worn out. I feel a pang of sympathy for his stubborn self.

I kiss my parents goodbye and then let Jason steer me back into the elevator. “You’re going to be okay,” he says.

“Oh, I know it.”

“Sorry about the money. It doesn’t make you a spoiled brat to be mad about it.”

“Doesn’t it?” I sigh. “That’s going right to the top of my wish list.”

“What is?”

“Becoming spoiled again. That sums things up pretty well.”

He laughs. “I’ll spoil you later, Hot Pepper. I can’t wait.”





40





Jason


In the elevator, I pull out my phone, because we need an Uber back to Brooklyn. But I’m distracted by the fact that I have twenty-five new texts.

I read the one on top first. It’s from Silas. Oh shit! Is Heidi okay?

Hmm. It’s possible that the media has this story. The next text—from Trevi—has a link attached. This sounds bad, he writes. The headline reads: “Hockey Commissioner’s Personal Finances Engulfed by Kafnar Scandal.”

And the byline is Miranda Wager’s.

“Oh shit,” I whisper as the elevator doors open. Out the windows I spot the news vans on the street. And now I know why they’re out there.

Heidi spots them, too, and stops in the center of the lobby. “Do you think they’re here for…” I can hear her mind clicking along. My girl is smart.

“I’m afraid so,” I say, tucking my arm around her. “Does this place have a backdoor?” If they decide that Heidi is part of the story, she could end up with her face in the news stories alongside her dad.

The flustered doorman brings our suitcases out. “You could exit through the parking garage,” he says. “Can I call you a car?”

“Yes, please,” I say immediately.

“Right away, sir.” He rings for the elevator again, and Heidi and I get onto it, this time heading toward the basement.

My girl’s lips are in a thin, worried line as we exit into the cool underground space and walk toward the exit. “I’m worried about my mom,” she says. “The woman has never worked a day in her life.”

“Maybe she won’t have to,” I point out.

We emerge onto East 77th, and the first person we see is Miranda Wager herself.

“Shit.”

Heidi gasps as Miranda takes a picture of her.

“Cut that out!” I bark. “She’s not the story.”

“No kidding,” Miranda says. “She never really was. And neither were you, so she can stop lunging at me in the street.” Miranda rolls her eyes.

“You are not a nice person!” Heidi squeaks.

“Who is?” Miranda snaps. “That picture of your dad and Kafnar Jr. in Georgia’s office, though. Now that’s news.”