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The Long Game (Long Game, #1)(38)

Author:Elena Armas

Josie’s eyes remained that full-moon size for a long moment. I was almost sure she’d stopped breathing. That is, until she threw her head back and laughed.

“I just confessed to a crime.” I blinked at her. “The second one I’ve committed in the span of a few days. Maybe even the third, if you count me hitting Cameron with my car.” My throat worked. “That’s it. I’m going to jail.”

“Wait, wait,” she said breaking off the cackling. “You did what to Cam?”

“I… I bumped into Cameron,” I confessed. “With my bumper. Right after I almost murdered his chicken. I also kind of momentarily fainted and he—It doesn’t matter. I didn’t say anything because I thought you’d be horrified.”

Another burst of laughter left the woman in front of me. People scattered around the café turned at the noise. All right, maybe Josie wasn’t horrified.

“Oh God,” she wheezed out, patting her chest like that had been the best joke she’d ever heard. “I wish there was a way I could get Lazy Elk’s security footage of that exact moment.”

I felt myself pale. Not another incriminating video. “There’s a security camera?”

“Oh, I don’t know, but wouldn’t that be great?” She shook her head. “If there is, though, I wouldn’t really have a way to get that tape. The property belongs to a hospitality company of some sort. They were the ones who renovated the big cabin last year.” A shoulder was shrugged. “Ah, how I wish I had the money to make my place look like that.”

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of the owner actually.” I’d gone as far as doing as Cameron suggested—which I’d never admit out loud—and pretended to be his assistant when I called the managing agent. “With no success.”

“Oh, is there something wrong with the cottage? I could try to help if you need me to.”

Words that had been thrown at me by two different men in the last twenty-four hours rang in my ears.

Leaving behind the comfort of the life I’ve provided for you is not easy.

Is the idea of sleeping on the floor not good enough for the princess?

“The cottage is perfect,” I said. “It was about something else. Invoices. I need them for my travel expenses.”

“That makes sense,” Josie said, pushing a tray in my direction. “Try a macaron. It’ll erase that look from your face.” She pointed at the green one. “Pistachio is my favorite. Plus, it might be the last one you ever get to eat. You know, if they lock you behind bars for all those nasty, gnarly crimes.”

“It isn’t funny,” I deadpanned. But she chuckled and I snatched one either way. Before bringing it to my lips, though, I ventured a question I hadn’t had the courage to ask. “How are you so okay with all of this? With what I just told you about Cameron but also with the video of me… being so uncivilized.”

Josie’s permanent smile wavered for what probably was the first time since I’d met her. “I’ve been engaged four times,” she told me. “And never married. I know a hurt woman when I see one.”

I studied the woman in front of me. Her kind and beautiful features were framed by waves of light brown hair. In the short time I’d known Josie, she’d been so relentlessly optimistic and happy that her confessing to being hurt—four times at that—shocked me. Not by the fact she’d been engaged numerous times before thirty, but by how her inner light had dimmed just now.

“My parents split before I was born,” I offered. “He proposed when they found out my mom was pregnant, but they never married. I have the suspicion they still love each other, even when my mom is relentless in her reminders of how happy and blissful her life is—not despite, but because she never married.” I felt my cheeks warm. I never talked about my parents’ relationship. And just like that, I heard myself say, “I’ve only ever been in one relationship. At some point, I thought he’d propose, but he broke things off with me instead. It never hurt me, not like it should have. So I never resented him.” That sensation right at the bottom of my stomach stirred. “Until I heard him saying some things about me a year later.”

Josie nodded her head, only the remnants of that stern expression hanging around her features. “This is why I like you,” she said, her smile returning full force. “Everyone else would have asked for the story. What caused those four engagements to end. But you didn’t.”

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