Page 87 of Cast to be Mine

“And Grace comes out looking innocent,” Chantilly said flatly.

“Grace was innocent. She shouldn’t have to carry this anymore.”

Chantilly frowned. Rather, she tried. The Botox made it physically impossible. But I could see the gears turning in her head, weighing her options, calculating the potential gains against the losses. Pithy captions and all the things that made her famous.

“What if I’m the one who posts it?” she asked slowly.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“You break the story. Your platform, your narrative. You control how it’s framed.” I sat back, letting that sink in. “By the time anyone else picks it up, you’re already the hero of your own story. The clever wife who orchestrated the whole thing for publicity. The genius who played the media like a fiddle.”

Jack snorted at something on his phone. Neither of us acknowledged him. It was clear we didn’t need his input. He was truly just the pretty face.

Chantilly’s lips curved into a slow smile. “I do like the sound of that.”

“You’d be the one everyone’s talking about. Not Grace. Not Jack. You.”

The smile widened. “Okay. I’m in.” She uncrossed her legs and leaned toward me. “What do I need to do?”

“I’ll have Toby put together the footage. We’ll cut it into something shareable—short, punchy, perfect for social media. All you have to do is post it with whatever caption you want. Take full credit for the idea.”

“And Grace?”

“Grace stays out of it entirely. She doesn’t comment, doesn’t post, doesn’t do anything. The story is about you. How clever you were. How you used the media’s assumptions against them.”

Chantilly nodded slowly, her eyes gleaming with something that looked almost like respect. “You know, Micah, I underestimated you. This is actually smart.”

“I have my moments.”

“When do you want to do this?”

“Tomorrow. We’ll have the video ready by morning. You post it whenever you want. Just let me know first so I can give Grace a heads-up.”

“Deal.” She extended her hand. I shook it. Her grip was surprisingly firm.

Jack looked up from his phone. “What are we dealing about?”

“Nothing, honey,” Chantilly said sweetly. “Just fixing your mess.”

“Cool.” He went back to scrolling.

I stood, ready to get the hell out of there. “I’ll text you when the video’s ready.”

“Looking forward to it.”

By this time tomorrow, Grace would finally be free of this mess.

And maybe, just maybe, we could figure out what came next.

29

GRACE

My phone started buzzing before six. I ignored it. It was likely someone in LA not remembering I was in Hawaii. I buried my head under the pillow and tried to go back to sleep, but the notifications kept coming.

I reached over, slapping at the damn thing to make it quiet. It stopped the assault for about two seconds. It made my nightstand sound like it was having a seizure.