The Love Scam by Maryjanice Davidson

Author:Maryjanice Davidson [Davidson, Maryjanice]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781466855441
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty-seven

She knew part of the story, of course, from her employer. But she was dismayed to find that Rake didn’t know much more. How could he be raised by such a determined woman and not know anything about where he came from? Wasn’t he curious? Didn’t he want to know everything about those who came before him, made him?

Wow, maybe take it easy on the projecting? What’s important to you doesn’t have to be important to him.

Yes. Maybe.

Probably.

Fine, fine, probably. As a child of the American foster care program, Delaney had known for more than a decade all she would ever know about those who came before her. She had been named for her grandmother, Claire Maybell Snyder. Her mother had died when she was two. Father: unknown. For years she’d thought her father’s name had been Unk.

The entirety of her family was dead or unk. That wasn’t true for Rake, though. She reminded herself, again, that what was important to her didn’t have to be important to him. She had the feeling she’d have to do that a lot.

“… right? I mean, who does that? Cuts a kid out of their life because they want to move to the big city? Mom wasn’t even pregnant! Not then, anyway. So she left it all behind, thank God, and moved to Vegas, and she and my dad—she was his waitress, and he was some rando rich asshole—did the drunken pelvis two-step…”

And then she thought she should stop reminding herself. It was good to be annoyed with Rake, good to feel irritation and even dismay over his choices. Disliking him was much, much safer than liking him.

And she liked the entitled rich whiner.

A lot. Which had never, ever been part of the plan.

Why’d he have to try to rescue me? And why didn’t I meet him when I was a kid? I could have shown him … trained him. We could be doing hits together. Instead, he met Donna and set the current disaster in motion, and poor Lillith will have to pay for it. Literally.

“… so off she went to Sweetheart, and off I went to Gstaad, and then London, and Paris, and Lake Como, and now here, except I’m pretty sure the last leg of my trip was against my will, and off Blake went to wherever he goes when he’s not being reprogrammed by his robot overlords. And look!” Rake brandished his (new) phone at her. “Look at this text that goes on forever and won’t die! Just like Blake!”

The terms of my atonement are as follow: 1. No more selling people’s homes/farms to the bank. 2. The remaining farm, scheduled for closing next week, is off the market. 3. Said farm must be made profitable within six months. 4. By me. 5. Without my fortune, which she has pulled off the table. (You’ll recall that though she allowed access to our inheritance on our eighteenth birthday, we are not legally entitled to it until we are thirty, which is twenty-three months and seventeen days from today.

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