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Karma delivery service. You have a package was the front runner. But when the door swung open and an elderly man with shrewd, beady eyes appeared, all the words jumbled in my throat like clothes in a laundry machine. I blinked about a hundred times a minute, my entire face twitching nervously.
Tic, tic, tic.
“Yes?” Allison’s father peered at me expectantly, clearly unhappy with the unwelcome Christmas surprise. “Are you going to sing or something? Or is this a donation thing? Marsha.” He turned around to bark to the depths of the house. “Do you have any cash on you?”
“I…I… No.” I found my voice somewhere in the bottom of my lungs. “I’m here for Allison.”
“Allison?” He reared his head back, bushy white eyebrows arched. “What business do you have with my daugh—”
“Oh, Daddy, it’s fine.” I heard the clink of heels on porcelain approaching. A few seconds later, Allison materialized like a mirage, a red sheath dress draped over her body, complementing her burgundy hair flawlessly. It was a shoulderless piece, paired with a white pearl choker. She looked beautiful yet, at the same time, ugly beyond repair. “I’ll take it from here.” She kissed his cheek, smiling. “Aw, so protective, what would I do without you?”
It was a dig, and as such, it burrowed straight into my heart, twisting like a sharp knife. She must’ve heard my dad had passed away. Must have known how much I missed him. Accompanying my pain was a dollop of pity. What a miserable creature must she be, to try to get a rise from a recently fatherless woman.
“Calla. You look”—she swiped her eyes over me aloofly—“like pneumonia in human form. You should really take better care of yourself. You’re already…what’s the word?” She tapped her pout theatrically. “Prone to accidents.”
“We need to talk. Privately.” I hated how unsure I sounded, even to my own ears—how I couldn’t see her properly, my eyes twitched so badly.
Allison examined her bloodred manicure with boredom. “No, thank you. If I let you in, you’ll contaminate my entire hou—”
That was it. I hadn’t even been here ten seconds and she was already ripping into me. “No more than Tucker Reid would. And he’s an engaged man. So unless you want tomorrow’s charity event to start with a grand announcement from me about who you’ve been sleeping with recently, I suggest you let me in.”
Her smug expression melted into horror. My hands shaking subsided, and my tics relaxed. I had cracked through her exterior. Broken the first of the many layers she had.
“I’ve no idea what you’re—”
“I have proof,” I cut her off. “And a slippery tongue. As you said, I’m…what’s the term?” I tapped my lips in the same manner she had a moment ago. “Prone to accidents.”
Allison peered over my shoulder before jerking her head. “Take your shoes off at the door.”
I followed her inside, bypassing a gigantic dining table full of food and her relatives. They all stared at me, dumbfounded. Me being me, I decided to greet them with a little bow and a smile. “Merry Christmas!” And then, because I couldn’t possibly contain myself, I gestured to Allison’s back and added, “Ho, ho, ho.”
This one’s for you, Dylan.
“My apologies,” Allison muttered, grabbing my wrist and yanking me toward one of the rooms on the first floor. “Urgent matter. Shouldn’t take more than a minute.”
She shut the door behind us when we reached a guest room. It was probably lovely, but I couldn’t see past my panic and determination. I squared my shoulders. She whipped around to face me, knotting her arms over her chest with a scowl. “What on earth makes you think Tucker and I—”
I held up a hand. “I’ll be the one asking the questions. If you answer honestly, I just might reciprocate. No promises, though.”
Allison’s face morphed into the exact shade as her dress and hair. She dropped her arms, her hands curling into fists. “Who do you think you—”
“I think I’m the woman who can destroy everything you’ve ever worked for and will probably do it no matter the outcome of this conversation. I have the receipts. I have the ammo. I have the witnesses. Drop the attitude, Allison. We’re not in high school anymore.”
The more I spoke, the less I ticked. History was on my side. I strode toward her confidently. Allison stumbled back, bumping into a credenza and knocking down a flower vase. She wagged a finger in my face. “You have no proof about the Tucker thing. Don’t you dare make up stories about me.”
“Sanders confirmed it,” I said matter-of-factly, happily throwing the old captain under the bus. After all, all he’d done was speak the truth when he was confronted about it. “He saw you picking Tucker up from the port.”
Allison paled. “He needed a rid—”
“Did you know Dylan gave birth the day before he touched land?” I slashed into her words.
Allison’s nose twitched, and she faltered. “Well, I mean, what does that have to do with me?”
“Tucker was with you when we tried reaching him. Oh, I almost forgot.” I snapped my fingers. “Row knows too.”
That made her mouth drop in horror. “You told him?”
“Sanders did.” I sighed, then patted her arm. “If it makes you feel any better, you didn’t stand a chance even before he knew.”
