Page 98 of Game Plan

But what happens to the light in his eyes when he looks at me with the full knowledge of my past? Will he see me differently? Will the way he treats me change?

Even if it’s not in a bad way, I don’t want anything to change at all. I don’t see how it won’t. And, once he knows, I can never take it back. We can never go back to the way things are right now.

I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly, nodding along as Ann goes over a list of items that I hope she emails to me. My mind is focused on Finn.

If I want a future with him, he deserves to know all of me. I can’t put more care into building the foundation of a charity than I put into the future with the man I’m pretty damn sure that I love.

No, the man I know I love. I love the fuck out of Finn Miller. And I have to tell him everything—free myself of this burden so we can move on together—tonight.

“Well, I think that’s it,” Ann says. “Do you have anything else for her, Kennedy?”

“No,” Kennedy says. “But it’s been very nice to meet you, Poppy, and I look forward to walking down this new path with you. It’s very exciting. Congratulations.”

I stand, hoisting my bag on my shoulder. “It was nice meeting you, Kennedy, and thank you, Ann. As always, you have been such a wealth of information and a pleasure to work with, and I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me today and for all the effort you’ve put into this already.”

Ann stands and shakes my hand. “The pleasure is truly all mine. Now, if you have any questions, like I said, don’t hesitate to reach out to one of us. Otherwise, I will get back with you as soon as I hear more.”

“Have a great rest of your week, Poppy,” Kennedy says.

“You, too.”

I follow Kennedy out and enter the elevator feeling buzzed on my way down. This is such a good feeling, something that I’ve been after for such a long time. It’s one of the two missing pieces in my life. Funny how I just think I found both of them.

Leaving the office, I step onto the sidewalk, making my way to the parking garage. My car comes into view, and I unlock it as my phone rings in my pocket.

“Hey, Lay,” I say, opening the door. I know something’s wrong before she even speaks. “What’s the matter?”

“Are you out of your meeting?”

“Yes. Why? What’s going on?”

“Shit,” she says, sighing. “Have you been online? I mean, I take it that you haven’t, considering you’re still this calm.”

My stomach sinks as I slide into the driver’s seat, close the door, and lock it. Chills roll down my spine. Have I been online? Why?

“Is everything okay with Finn? What’s happening?” I ask, growing irritated at the delay.

“You’re not driving. Right?”

“No, Layla. I’m not driving. What is going on? You’re making me panic here,” I say, my voice rising.

“There was an article today. I think you need to read it, but I don’t want you driving when you do.”

“Fuck.” I put her on speakerphone and pull up my web browser. “What kind of an article?”

I imagine a photograph of me from a bad angle, or from someone suggesting that the engagement between Finn and me is fake. I brace myself for my irritation level to skyrocket into oblivion.

“Why don’t you drive over here, and we’ll read it together?” she asks. “Or I’ll come to you?”

“I’m sitting in a parking garage downtown. I cannot wait to figure out what’s going on until I get to your house or you get to me. I’m pulling it up right now. Where do I look?”

“Exposé.”

I recoil like I just took a bullet. My mind races with a million things that Exposé could’ve said. I knew the last post they made about Finn and me—a picture of him looking at me with hearts in his eyes as we had ice cream the other night—was too good to be true. It was too easy. It was too … nice. I should’ve expected there to be more.

There always is with them.

I open the website for Exposé, my hands shaking, and gasp. The headline is spilled across the top of the page in big, bold letters.