Chapter 1

After the SATs, I went on a graduation trip and met Andrew Grant.

I fell for him hard—stupidly, recklessly hard.

Then he threw a pregnancy test at my dad's feet.

"Mr. Lane, your daughter's pregnant with my kid. Just so you know, I'm dumping her."

Just like that, Andrew vanished from my life.

Turns out I was nothing but a pawn in his sick revenge plot over his first love.

After that, my dad died, and my mom went crazy.

Ten years later, Andrew walked back into my world.

*****

Victor Dalton texted: [Had a few drinks. Come pick me up. Got two friends with me.]

I shot back an [Okay] with a heart and a kiss emoji.

Victor was in his forties but still had the sex drive of a 20-year-old.

I knew I wouldn't be sleeping at home tonight.

I told Eddie to go to bed after finishing his homework, then I headed out.

Eddie was nine and ridiculously independent—could handle a night alone, make his own breakfast, get himself to school.

The parking lot was packed.

I tried calling Victor, but his phone was off.

So I parked on the street and walked to the hotel.

As soon as I got to the door, I heard Victor's booming voice.

"She's hot, great body, and for three grand a month. Safer than a hooker, less hassle than a girlfriend. And always on call—gets here faster than an Uber."

I acted as if I hadn't heard him and called out, "Victor."

He turned around, saw me standing there, and looked a bit uncomfortable.

He cleared his throat. "This is my buddy, Andrew Grant, and his fiancée, Emily Warren."

He gestured at me vaguely. "And this is my... friend, Olivia Lane."

"Hello, Ms. Lane." Andrew shook my hand, all politeness.

Emily just scoffed and crossed her arms.

Those proper girlfriends or wives always looked at me like I was something stuck to their shoe.

I never imagined I'd see Andrew again. Ten years had turned that awkward kid into a polished, successful man.

For years, I'd rehearsed this moment in my head.

Would I lose it? Slap him? Sink my teeth into his face?

But life grinds you down until there's nothing left.

When we finally met again, all I could manage was, "Hello."

They were all drunk, and the car reeked of alcohol.

I'd already picked up yogurt drinks and hangover pills on the way over.

"See? Olivia's so thoughtful," Victor said, turning to Andrew to brag.

I'd been with Victor for three years. He wasn't terrible—just mean sometimes.

He ran a small ad agency, liked calling himself "the boss," but he barely scraped by.

Having me on a monthly retainer for three grand made him feel pretty accomplished.

I never felt insulted by it, and I never took it personally.

In the rearview mirror, I caught Emily looking pale, hand pressed to her stomach.

At a red light, I pulled out a heat pack and handed it back.

"This might help."

Only then did Andrew notice his fiancée wasn't feeling well. He asked if she was okay, then had me stop at a pharmacy.

Emily lived closest, so we dropped her off first.

Maybe the heat pack softened her up—she actually thanked me before she left.

Emily had a refined beauty—clearly came from a good family.

The nice suburban neighborhood she disappeared into only confirmed it.

Once it was just the three of us, Victor got handsy.

That was how he was after a few drinks—pawing at my thigh like we were alone.

Andrew's phone rang. "Yeah. Okay, I'll head over now."

After hanging up, he sounded apologetic. "Victor, my dad needs me. Mind if your friend drops me off?"

He clearly knew Victor wouldn't be coming along.

Outside Victor's building, Victor pulled me into a hug that was really an excuse to grope me. He squeezed and whispered in my ear, "I'll make it up to you tomorrow."

I flinched at his breath.

I couldn't tell if it was Victor or the thought of being alone with Andrew that made my skin crawl.