Page 52 of Resist
“So’s Paige,” Talia adds, dumping a pile of salad onto her plate.
“Paige is a brat,” Slade seems to think he said that quietly enough not to be heard, but when Paige’s foot connects with his leg, he grunts.
“We’re an inclusive group, Sterling.” Talia’s scolding is kind of adorable.
Jagger pauses his glass on the way to his mouth. “Yes,Sterling. They’re an inclusive group.”
“Wait.” I drop my fork. “If I marry Corabelle, I’d get to join the Sub Club? I’ll finally get a shirt?”
Thor rolls his eyes. “Drama queen. You could buy a fucking shirt, man. They’re sold at the club.”
I shake my head. “I want an official Sub Club one. They have a special handshake to go with their special shirt and everything.”
Adi shakes her head. “We do not. We do have book clubthough. You’d have to read, though considering your job... maybe we’d get some recommendations from you.”
“He’d have to really be her sub to join though.” Talia stares at Cora over the rim of her wine glass.
“True.” Adi adds. “And we wouldn’t want to complicate the fake real-marriage with real-real sex, or heaven forbid, real feelings, right?” Her eye roll is even more impressive than Thor’s. “Anyway.” She sprinkles an impressive amount of cheese on top of her pasta. “If you happen to find yourself in a dynamic with... anyone... then you’re more than welcome.”
Something about the fact they’re willing to open their girl gang to me even though I have a dick warms my heart. But I can’t mix business with pleasure. If I marry Corabelle, it’s strictly business. I’m doing her a favor so she can take over the company, and then I’m going to destroy it.
Just as my chest starts to ache with the pressure of deception, Corabelle clears her throat before pinning me with a look that shoots an arrow straight into my chest. “Okay, let’s do it.”
CHAPTER 17
Cora
Get in bitch, we’re going to Iowa.
I’m sittingin my car outside Phoenix’s house. It’s ass-crack-of-dawn o’clock or I’d lean on the horn like an asshole. The blinds part as she peeks out into the darkness so I flash my lights at her.
There were so many more reasons to say no to Sterling’s proposal than there were to accept it. Rationally speaking, it makes way more sense to not agree, but the fear that clutched at my whole being at the thought of losing Dad’s legacy was just too much to bear.
I’d sooner marry a near-stranger than lose Blackwell Publishing, even if it’s to one of Dad’s friends. Or a group of them. I just... can’t. There was a reason he picked me as his understudy, and I can’t ignore that.
Memories of my childhood assault me as I wait for Foxy to appear. At seven years old, waiting for Dad to finish meetings in one of the boardrooms, sitting in his office chair and spinning myself in circles until a grownup came to chastise me. Or,better yet, drop a freshly printed copy of one of their newest kid’s books into my hands.
At ten years old, Dad asking my opinion on some of the children’s novels that got submitted to the publishing house and feeling like I could walk on air.Heaskedmefor my opinions. The boss of the whole publishing house. And he was interested in hearing them, too. It was never lip service. He always cared about what I thought, what I liked, why I didn’t like something, or what I felt was missing.
He never treated me like a child, I’m not sure he knew how to, and by treating me like an adult from a young age, I learned the value of my voice, my opinion, and how important it was to have one.
“Don’t sit on the fence, Cora. Literature needs to make you feel. Love it, or hate it, that’s fine, but the worst thing a book can do is make you feel apathetic.”
I press at my chest, the familiar throb rearing its head again.
A door slams outside the car, and Phoenix appears in all her Amazon goddess glory. It’s unfair how fucking flawless she looks at seven in the morning. Should be illegal.
She opens the passenger side door. “The fuck? You know how early it is?” She picks up the giant Target bag of snacks from the seat and drops her ass on the chair.
I don’t say anything, my insides roiling. I have to keep it together, and tell my friends at the same time. Plus, I was ready to leave at five thirty this morning, she should be glad I didn’t show up even earlier.
She takes one look at the bag of all our favorite snacks, looks at me, looks back in the bag, and lets out a slow hiss of air. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “When we get to Iowa. You in?”
“I have no idea which rule to refer to right now, but I’msimply going to ‘gesture in girl code’ and put my seat belt on. Let’s go. Does she know we’re coming?”
I shake my head.