Fool Me Forever (The Confidence Game 2)

The real surprise was Mom. She was devastated, though instead of shutting down like she’d done when Dad was arrested, she’d been galvanized into action and tackling grocery shopping was the least of it.

“So, it’s about Halsey?”

Right. She wasn’t fooling anyone. Didn’t mean she should stop trying. “The thing with him never went anywhere. Not everyone you like will turn out to be right for you.” More to the point, men who you know up front aren’t good for you shouldn’t be able to make you want to be with them more than anything you ever wanted in your life.

Halsey was a good guy who traded in bad for great reasons. It was all around the wrong way, and she didn’t have enough life experience to deal with that, only the knowledge that she wouldn’t want to change him, and she couldn’t keep him. It hung on her like being sentenced to a thousand years of black clouds and filthy weather.

“Then, it’s about selling the apartment and Mom and me moving. You could still come with.”

For the moment she was staying put, toughing it out. Framing the terse apology note that had come on official Ossovian government stationery and savoring the reports of Cookie Jar returning home to protest marches and strike action in Ossovia.

“I have to keep working for the women who might starve.” And the young women of Ossovia who deserved scholarships they’d missed out on when D4D’s donation bought a car instead. And she could do that comfortably, knowing Mom and Mallory got to start fresh with a new surname and a new home. Selling her apartment to set them up was the sensible thing to do.

“Can’t you do that in Florida?”

“Not as easily.” All the big money was here, and so was Fin, who’d sent a message to say she and Cal would be home at the end of the month.

“You’ll visit? You won’t be useless?”

“I’ll visit. When have I ever been useless?”

“When you’re sad like now, because Halsey made you happy and it didn’t work out.”

Lenny pulled the plate toward her. It was just a banana, for God’s sake. “I’m not sad.”

Now who was the fraud.

The important thing was Mal wasn’t sad, angry, or acting out any more than any other sixteen-year-old, and Mom was focused and hopeful. If Lenny couldn’t rehabilitate the Bradshaw name, she could at least ensure her mom and sister weren’t forever burdened by its legacy.

“I liked Halsey,” Mal said.

“He bribed you with theater tickets.”

He’d bribed Lenny with his good guy hustle, and the way he’d conned her into thinking he cared, and then did exactly what he’d promised to do—gave her revenge over Cookie Jar and tried to make sure she wasn’t caught up in his downfall.

Oh, shit.

She was the one who’d insisted on going to the gala, and Halsey had done his best in a bad situation to take the heat, right down to making himself look like an arrogant asshole.

Mal laughed. “Yeah, that was cool. Hey, we should get tattoos. Like all of us. You, me, and Mom.”

“Stick with bananas.”

Mal grabbed her arm and, with a black marker, drew on the inside of her wrist. It was a symbol, a little like an obscure musical note, made up of two curls and joined by a ribbon folded like a sideways figure eight. Mal had drawn it in one motion without lifting her marker. “What is that?” It was no flying unicorn.

“A Zibu. It’s the Celtic symbol for inner strength and new beginnings. Bradshaw is an old Celtic name, and I thought maybe if Mom and I were going to be Dresdens from now on that we could, you know, together, like…” She shook her head. “It’s probably stupid.”

Halsey had joked they should get matching tattoos. Lenny looked at the symbol. It was neat and perfectly balanced. Its meaning wasn’t obvious, and it had no particular fashion, but inner strength and new beginnings was a perfect theme. It was time for all the Bradshaw women to move on. “I like it.”

Mal drew one on her own wrist. “You don’t think it’s dumb?”

A whole lot less dumb than believing that despite their crossed stars, she and Halsey had something wonderful together and had both simply ignored their better judgment instead of quitting while they were ahead.

It was no surprise they’d ended in shouting and a confused withdrawal. She’d been stubborn and overconfident, and he’d been hesitant to insist she stayed out of harm’s way. He’d taken her instruction not to tell her what to do a little too faithfully, and she’d trusted her own sense without question and gotten in over her head.

Goddamn, she still wasn’t ready to have ended it with him.

She picked up a slice of the toast, took a bite, and said around a mouthful, “There’s no way Mom will do it.”