Page 91 of Filthy Rich Brother's Best Friends

I manage to swallow the urge to throw my phone across the room. Instead I lock the screen and set it face-down on the desk.

I know what this is.

She’s making a point. And I’m supposed to see it. She wants me to know she can have him. That she already has. Reid swearsshe didn’t, but it doesn’t matter—because now the internetthinksshe has, and that’s basically the same thing.

I press my palms into my eyes and exhale slowly. Three more classes. Then I can spiral properly.

Except I already am.

Does Reid know about this? Did heletit happen? I want to send him the post with a big fat??and let him explain himself. Or deny it.

He says he didn’t sleep with her. But is he being honest with me? It’s not like Reid to ever turn a woman down.

I worry that if we ever do go public with our relationship, then people will cry foul becauseobviouslyI stole him from Gigi.Whatever. I don’t have time for this right now. I have a business to salvage.

I push off from the desk and go through the motions—re-rack the props, double-check my afternoon client notes. I tell myself I’ll deal with Gigi later, that it’s not worth the energy right now.

Then my phone buzzes.

It’s a message from a longtime client. She’s been with me since I first opened the studio. She stuck with me through every scheduling glitch, playlist fail, and instructor turnover.

“Hey, just checking in—are you okay? Heard some talk about your studio being bought out? Hope it’s just rumors. Let me know if I should cancel my class pack.”

Bought out? What the hell is she talking about?Is Gigi behind this?

I force myself to respond as casually as I can manage:

“Hey! Definitely just a rumor. Nothing’s changing over here. Promise.”

I add a smiley face for extra reassurance, and hit send. Then I start making calls.

I check in with a couple clients and probe to see if they’ve heard anything similar. Then I skim through a few forums, scrollthrough some social media accounts, and finally reach out to someone I trust in the local wellness scene.

It takes her less than five minutes to get back to me.

She and Blaire are friends and had brunch together recently. The gist of what Blaire said was: I’m in over my head, the business is sinking, and one of the guys next door is stepping in to “rescue” me.

I manage to explain that none of that is true and then I hang up the phone. What the actual fuck?

How did it come to this?

I share a home with these women. I used to trust them with my life. I thought they’d be bridesmaids in my wedding one day. Now one is wearing my almost-boyfriend’s jersey for revenge and social media clout, and the other is out there planting rumors designed to destroy what’s left of my business.

How much more of this am I supposed to take?

How much more do I have to lose before they’re satisfied?

And, more importantly, how am I supposed to live with them after this?

Chapter 28

Jude

Lola’s off. I’ve seen her stressed, distracted, overloaded—hell, most days she runs on caffeine and sheer willpower—but this is different. Her voice sounded strange on the phone. And it wasn’t just her usual end-of-day exhaustion voice.

So, I head over once she’s home for the night.

The front porch light is still on, but the house is dark. I could knock or ring the bell. Except that runs the risk of calling attention to myself if Gigi and Blaire happen to be home.