Page 89 of Fake It Till You Make It

The last thing she wanted to feel toward Cara was conflicted, but here she was, that eleven-year-old girl praying that someone had thrown her and her mother a lifeline. Wasn’t she the shield-maiden of women and children? A life of services to others. At her core Amarie was a giver. Should it matter that Cara had sought help from Amarie’s boyfriend? Adulting—no wonder she’d delayed this journey as long as possible. She swallowed her apprehension, choosing to share the most painful year of her existence.

“The year Mom left my dad, remember I told you we were hungry sometimes?”

“Of course.” Eli nodded, brushing his thumb along her cheek. “You explained the snack packs.”

“We were homeless, Eli. For three of those months, we slept in that old BMW I drive. Other adults, their children called us names—bums, vagrants, trash.” When he tried to sit up, she pinned him down. “Please, just let me get this out.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Don’t sound so ominous. It’s just, I know how desperation can tear you up inside. The reason I entered nursing school was to care for the world’s rejected, the nameless faces on the streets, in the shelters, under the bridges.” Even with her degree in hand, she was still that homeless little girl standing at her mother’s side, desperate, begging for food, and disposable.

“That’s why Lourdes’s comment upset you so much.”

Amarie nodded. “Yes.”

“Wow. You and your mom are remarkable.”

“She is. Me, meh. I developed pneumonia while we were unhoused. I’m the reason she went back to my father.” Brave, but solemn, her mother had filled the gas tank with the last of their meager funds and drove them back into the lion’s den. The mood in the car had been as desolate as the long stretches of I-95. Her father’s other woman had vanished along with Princess—and her mother’s joy.

“Don’t blame yourself. The fault lay with your father. His actions created the condition that forced your mom to make a difficult choice to protect you both. Cara’s situation is self-inflicted and there’s not a child to consider.”

“Thank goodness, that would be awful. But if Cara’s telling the truth—”

“She’s not. Trust me when I tell you that woman is full of tricks.”

“I get that, but if she needs help…” She’d probably choke on these words later, but she was who she was. Helping people was her love language and she wouldn’t be afraid to speak her truth for fear of being taken advantage of.

“You’re all sparkles inside and out, Amarie Walker. You’re giving me permission to help my ex.”

“I want her gone, I do. But yasss,” she drawled. “We needed help, and none came. This is probably a test for angel wings that I hope to pass. But who knows what will happen if we don’t offer assistance. Either way, I don’t want a guilty conscience. I’m conflicted about sending you into the fires of Mordor considering Cara’s still wears the ring of power.”

“Sweetheart, that’s a mouth full of rambling.” He squeezed her tight to his chest, but the tendrils of doubts lingered. “If she truly needs a place to live after I take care of the mortgage and your portion of the proceeds, I’ll do what I can. As for my house, maybe it’ll bring the next family some joy.”

Amarie placed a peck of a kiss on his lips, more playful than passionate.

“You have nothing to worry about. Cara is not a threat to our future.”

“Aw, so you’re thinking how awesome I am to keep around.”

He wiggled his brows. “Among other things.”

“Thanks for saying that, I mean look at how we started out. She seems determined to cause trouble, and I don’t know—I just want to make sure we’re not fooling ourselves.”

He took her hand and slid it down to his body. “There’s nothing fooling here. Everything is one hundred percent real and ready.”

“Don’t tempt me with sex when your ex is asleep on your couch.”

“Absolutely not. If you wanted that, you shouldn’t be so darn irresistible. And for the record, you’re the one on my couch. Cara’s on Hiccup’s office bed.” Eli captured her chin. “Remember, you’re my number one girl. Now let’s go to bed.”

“No.” Amarie moved to straddle Eli’s lap. She pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor. “Convince me.”

Because in spite of Eli’s reassurances, Amarie had doubts. The last time a man had had a choice between her and the other woman, she’d ended up homeless, penniless, and manless.

Chapter Twenty-Six

THE BACHELOR AUCTIONsite had been hacked. All the bids, all the money gone, disappeared. Watching the bid totals climb had given Eli the confidence boost to keep smiling for the camera even though he preferred a behind-the-scenes life. But this morning with Amarie out of bed before the morning humidity to complete the full hike with Bethany, he’d logged on under a red-and-gold sunrise. Immediately the day descended into the bleakest of nights. The website had posted a message.

Dear Customer, Auction Luv Buzz has been the target of a data breach. Until further notice, all bidding accounts and monetary payouts are suspended. We are working diligently with our IT team to get every account restored in a timely fashion.