Chapter 2: The Reunion Power Play

The day of the reunion, I brought Carter along.

When we got to the Grand Oak Resort, I had him park first. He was driving a limited-edition Bentley, and I didn’t want to draw too much attention. Not yet, anyway.

Right at the entrance, I ran into the last two people I wanted to see.

They were obviously waiting for me.

Brooke was dressed to the nines in a low-cut red dress, heavy makeup, clutching Jake’s arm. She flashed me a fake smile, all teeth and no warmth.

“Autumn, girl, you made it!”

Then she waved her old Chanel bag, showing off.

“Look at Jake, he insisted on buying me this limited-edition bag. I told him not to, but he wouldn’t listen. I even teased him—Autumn never got this treatment after dating you for so long.”

I shot back, “Well, that’s just like your Jake. He’s always loved secondhand goods. Look at you—you’re what, thirdhand now? He still took you in.”

Hands in my pockets, I glanced inside. “There are a lot of people here today—look, there’s Chris Young, Mark Johnson, Sarah James. Aren’t you going to say hi? Weren’t those all your exes?”

Brooke’s face went stiff. For a second, I thought she might actually choke on her own fake smile. The way her eyes darted to Jake, you could tell she was desperate for backup.

“You!”

Brooke was fuming.

She whined to Jake, “Jake, look at her!”

“Alright, Autumn, you’re older than Brooke. Be more understanding.”

The more I looked at Jake, the more he seemed like a pile of garbage. I can’t believe I ever liked this guy.

Look at that receding hairline.

I couldn’t hold back: “Seriously, who are you to me? Why are you lecturing me?”

“Move. I’m going in.”

I didn’t bother with them and started walking inside.

But Jake blocked my way, pretending to be concerned.

“Autumn, are you seeing anyone? You’re 31 now.”

He was calling me old. Subtle, right?

“So what if I’m 31? Aren’t you 31 too?”

He frowned, mansplaining: “It’s different for men and women. Thirty-one is a man’s prime, but for women, it’s like you’re past your prime.”

What a load of crap!

I was about to let loose when Brooke chimed in:

“That’s right, Autumn. It’s hard for women as they get older. No matter how great you are, look at you—your face isn’t what it used to be.”

“Jake’s just saying this for your own good. At 31, you’ll probably only find a divorced guy or some short nobody.”

She tilted her head. “Oh, right, Ben Carter from your class is still single. He chased me for years, but I’d never go for him. Want me to set you up? You two seem like a good match.”

“Seriously, don’t be too picky at your age. Wait any longer and you won’t even get someone like Ben.”

Ben was the biggest loser in our class—5’3”, community college grad, creepy in high school, bald, beer belly, and always smelled bad. Like, seriously, Brooke?

“You really are…”

“Who’s dumb enough to try setting up my girlfriend?”

Carter strode in wearing a black jacket, his gaze sharp and cold.

He looked like he’d just stepped out of a GQ spread—broad shoulders, jaw set, eyes locked on Jake. The kind of entrance that makes everyone in the lobby turn their heads.

“Who are you?”

Jake, shorter by a head, was instantly intimidated.

Carter wrapped his arm around my waist, grinning proudly.

“Autumn’s boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?”

Jake was shocked. So was Brooke.

They both stared, dumbfounded.

Well, who doesn’t like a handsome guy? Especially one like Carter—he had that bad-boy charm that drew everyone in.

Jake wasn’t impressed, even got angry.

“Autumn, you couldn’t find a guy as good as me, so you settled for a pretty boy? How much do you pay him a month?”

“I’ve seen plenty of guys like this—just using women to get ahead. What does he want from you? Your age? That you’re over 30? He’s after your money. You’re so dumb!”

Carter clenched his jaw, frowning, and—without warning—punched Jake hard in the face.

Oh, I almost forgot: Carter’s motto is, “If you can solve it with your fists, don’t waste time talking.”

He grabbed Jake by the collar. Jake, now out of shape and never working out, was no match and stumbled back, nearly falling.

Carter’s voice was icy as he warned:

“Watch your mouth. If you can’t keep it clean, go wash it out in the bathroom. You think everyone’s as disgusting as you? If you insult my woman again, see what happens.”

“Take a look at your own head—how many hairs you got left? Keep running your mouth and I’ll smash it in.”

Jake was furious, humiliated in public, his ears red. He tried to shake off Carter’s grip but failed, so he just shouted:

“Who do you think you are, some nobody from the sticks? Do you know who I am? You mess with me, you’ll regret it…”

“Ah!”

Before he could finish, Jake yelped in pain—Carter nearly twisted his fat hand off.

“Kid…”

He tried to hit back.

“Mr. Evans, what brings you here?”

Just then, the class president, who’d been bossing everyone around, rushed out from the hotel, all smiles and flattery.

“Mr. Evans? Who’s Mr. Evans?”

Jake, wincing in pain, was confused.

The class president explained, falling all over himself:

“That’s Carter Evans, CEO of Evans Pharmaceuticals, only son of Chairman Evans. You don’t know that? How do you do business?”

I forgot to mention: Carter’s family runs a pharmaceutical company worth billions. He graduated from Stanford and is known as a rich, eligible bachelor.

Jake’s company? Still co-owned with me, and making ten million a year at best. Not even close.

“So you’re the heir to Evans Pharmaceuticals?”

Brooke’s face changed color several times. Her earlier arrogance vanished, replaced by a sweet, fake act straight out of a romcom. She gazed at Carter, eyes sparkling, practically hunting for her next target.

Her attraction was written all over her face.

Carter ignored her, took my hand, and said gently:

“Baby, let’s go inside.”

Jake was left fuming.

After a few steps, I turned and mocked Brooke: “By the way, you’re 28 now, right? Careful—by your boyfriend’s logic, after 30 you’re just an old lady. Take care.”

“You!”

Brooke glared at me, but when her gaze shifted to Carter, it was full of determination and flirtation.

But this time, little miss innocent act was in for a rude awakening.

—