Chapter 58
MELODY
Iwoke to sunlight and Austin’s arm draped across my waist. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so content. I vaguely remembered him waking me up and urging me to go to bed. I was only a little embarrassed that I had fallen asleep on him.
It felt too good to be true. All of it. Him. Us. Life in general.
The nagging doubts tried to creep in once again.
He doesn’t want children. That little phrase was constantly running through the back of my mind, but I pushed it away.
I wasn’t going to spoil a perfect morning.
He said he might change and that’s what I was going to hold onto.
Just let things play out. See where it goes.
I carefully scooted my head back to get a better look at him. I smiled at the sight of my handsome man. Austin’s face was relaxed in sleep, his hair mussed, and there was still a faint smudge of my lipstick on his jaw from last night. God, he was beautiful. And he was mine.
The thought sent warmth racing through me. I wanted to stay in bed with him all day, but I was hungry and in desperate need of coffee. He had taken such good care of me on the yacht. It was my turn to return the favor.
I very slowly extracted myself from his embrace, holding my breath when he stirred but didn’t wake. Once free, I grabbed my phone from the coffee table and padded quietly to the bathroom.
After freshening up and changing into comfortable leggings and an oversized sweater, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked ready for another comfy day in with my man.
I smiled at my reflection, then headed back out to check on Austin. He was still fast asleep, one arm thrown over his head, his chest rising and falling steadily. I didn’t want to wake him. Last night had been a late one, and he looked peaceful.
I was going to surprise him with coffee from the café down the street. They made the best americanos in the city, and their almond croissants were to die for. I grabbed my keys and wallet, slipped on sneakers, and quietly let myself out.
I inhaled the familiar smells from my neighborhood.
It was a combination of the blooming plants and flowers my neighbors up and down the street kept in pots on their stoops and the usual smell of the city in general.
All the things that made me love New York.
A few early risers were out jogging or walking dogs.
I waved to my neighbor, who was sweeping his stoop, and headed down the street.
The cafe was doing its usual brisk business with the regular customers filing in for their morning caffeine dose. I’d been coming here for years. It felt a lot like home.
“The usual?” the young lady at the counter asked.
“Two americanos, actually. And four of your almond croissants.”
Her eyebrows raised knowingly, but she didn’t comment, just rang me up and got to work on the drinks.
I scrolled through my phone while I waited, smiling at the notifications.
Pictures from last night were already circulating.
Austin and me at the theater, on the dance floor, kissing.
The comments were mostly positive, though there were always a few haters mixed in.
I didn’t care about them anymore. Not when I had him.
I smiled at one of the pictures with me staring into Austin’s eyes. I looked like a woman in love. I quickly took a screenshot. I loved the picture. I wanted to make a collage for us. I was going to call it the beginning.
“Melody.”
I stepped forward and took the coffees in a carrier and a bag with the pastries.
I headed back home, humming one of the songs from Hadestown under my breath.
I couldn’t wait to climb back into bed with Austin, share coffee and breakfast. Maybe I would convince him to spend the entire Sunday doing nothing but being lazy together.
I was so lost in the daydream that I almost missed it.
An envelope on my welcome mat.
I stopped short, the coffee carrier wobbling slightly in my hands. That definitely hadn’t been there when I’d left fifteen minutes ago. I would have noticed. I looked around, but the street was quiet, just a couple walking their retriever on the opposite sidewalk.
My heart started to beat faster as I approached. The envelope was manila, letter-sized, and completely unmarked except for one word written in thick permanent marker: AUSTIN.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I looked around again, more carefully this time. Was someone watching me? Had they been watching my house? How did they know I left? How did they know when to drop this off?
It was creepy. Terrifying. Obviously, the person that left the envelope was the same person that emailed and texted me. Whoever it was, they knew way too much about me.
I fumbled with my keys, my hands suddenly shaky, and managed to unlock the door. I grabbed the envelope and hurried inside, shutting the door firmly behind me and throwing the deadbolt.
“Baby girl? That you?” Austin’s voice called from upstairs.
“Yeah,” I called back, my voice higher than normal.
I stuck the envelope under my sweater, leaving the coffee and pastries on the kitchen counter. I walked upstairs with every intention of showing Austin the envelope. The bathroom door was closed.
I dashed across the hall into my office and closed the door. I pulled out the envelope and stared at it.
It was probably nothing. Maybe a neighbor had something for Austin. Maybe it was from his assistant or one of his brothers.
But if that was true, why not text him? Why leave it on my doorstep?
The rational part of my brain told me not to open it. It was addressed to Austin, not me. I should just give it to him and let him deal with whatever it was.
But was it actually addressed to him or was it like the files that were sent to me? Another part of me needed to know what this was.
I walked to my desk and carefully opened the envelope. Inside was a thick stack of papers. I pulled them out with shaking hands and started to read.
The first page looked like some kind of contract. I scanned it quickly, my heart sinking as certain phrases jumped out at me. It was an NDA and a contract about public appearances and whatnot.
I flipped to the next page. Text message screenshots. Between Cash Bancroft and someone named Summer Auburn. They were discussing Austin, his “situation,” and the need for “damage control.” My stomach started to churn.
More pages. Photos of Austin with a stunning, slender woman I recognized from that first night at Sophie’s wedding. Summer. The woman who’d been wrapped around his arm before he’d pulled me in and kissed me instead.
The woman he wanted to escape.
My hands were shaking so badly now I could barely hold the papers. I kept flipping. It was the proof of the arrangement his brother had set up. There was a handwritten letter addressed to me.
Dear Melody,
By now you’ve seen the evidence.
The Bancroft family approached me to “date” Austin after his voice memo went viral.
They needed damage control, and I needed money.
It seemed simple. Show up to a few events, keep him out of trouble, smile for the cameras.
Cash Bancroft himself arranged everything.
I signed contracts, NDAs, did exactly what they asked.
And then Austin saw you at that wedding. Suddenly I was out. No warning, no explanation, just dismissed. They paid me what they owed per the contract but nothing more. I was used and discarded the moment I wasn’t convenient anymore.
The Bancrofts are experts at using people to protect their image. They did it to me. Melody, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but they’re doing it to you too.
Your silly scandal made you vulnerable and you thought you got a lifeline. You were the perfect target, someone who could make Austin look like a hero, someone with enough of a platform to make the relationship believable, but desperate enough not to ask too many questions.
You might think what you have with him is real, but to the Bancrofts, you’re just another problem solved with money and manipulation.
I’m going to sue them for taking advantage of me. For the emotional distress, for the breach of good faith, for everything. They think they can buy and discard people without consequences. I’m going to prove them wrong.
You can do the same. We can do it together. Together, we’d be powerful. Two women they tried to use, standing up and fighting back.
Think about it. And when you’re ready to stop being used, call me.
Summer
A phone number was scrawled at the bottom. I read the letter twice, then a third time. My heart was pounding so hard I felt dizzy. My mind raced through every moment with Austin, reframing everything through this new, horrible lens.
The wedding. Had he really just been improvising when he kissed me? Or had it been calculated? Ditch Summer, grab the plus-size influencer with the scandal, kill two birds with one stone?
The fake-dating arrangement he’d proposed. He’d made it sound like it benefited us both, but what if it had all been orchestrated from the start? Was he playing the long game? And if so, to what end?
I couldn’t confront him. Not yet. Not until I knew more. Not until I understood whether Summer was telling the truth or if this was some kind of manipulation on her part.
Because there was a possibility here that I couldn’t ignore. What if Summer was full of shit? What if she was bitter about being dismissed and wanted revenge? What if this was all fabricated to drive a wedge between me and Austin?
But what if it wasn’t?
“Baby girl?”
I heard him in the hallway and quickly shoved the papers in my desk.
“Coming!” I called out.
I opened the door and spotted him heading downstairs. He was wearing nothing more than a pair of sweats.
“Hey,” I said.
He stopped and turned around. “There you are. You disappeared on me.”
“I went out to get coffee,” I said and forced a smile.
“Perfect.” Austin walked up the few steps and gave me a kiss.
I leaned into the kiss before pulling back. I gave him his coffee and shook the bag.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Muffins,” I replied. “But they’re too crumbly to eat here.”
We went to the kitchen. I got a plate and put two on for him. I grabbed my own and took a bite. It tasted like sand. Not even my favorite coffee could wash it down.
“You okay?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly. “Did you get a funky muffin? Because mine are great.”
“I’m fine,” I said quickly. “Just tired. We were up late.”
He accepted this, taking a long sip of his americano and groaning appreciatively. “At the risk of sounding like we’re in a commercial, this coffee is damn tasty. Where’d you get it?”
“Down the street.”
“We should go there together sometime. I want to know all your favorite spots.”
The words should have made me happy. Instead, they made me want to cry. Was any of it real?
I smiled and tried to act normal while my mind spun in circles. Austin chatted about maybe going to the gym later, or catching a movie, or just staying in all day. Normal couple things. Things that should have made me feel secure and happy.
Instead, all I could think about was that envelope.
Could Summer be trusted?
More importantly, could I trust Austin?