Betting on Bailey

“Well, if you put it like that.” I take a deep breath. “How’s Sebastian handling this? And can I come over?”

“He’s here. He’s not thrilled, of course, but he’s managing. The notoriety won’t harm him. It’s you I’m concerned about. And as much as I want to see you,” his tone softens, “coming over is a bad idea. The entrance to my house is crawling with paparazzi, waiting for another whiff of scandal.”

“Why is it okay for Sebastian to come over and not me?”

“His face is in the photo, honey. Yours isn’t, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Oh,” I pause. “Okay, that makes perfect sense. I thought I was going to get some sexist reason.”

He laughs. “When this is over, you’ll meet my mother, and you’ll understand how much trouble I’d get into if I ever dared to insinuate that the rules are different for women.”

Sure, there’s a photo of us in the tabloids. Right now, I don’t care. Not when Daniel just said he wanted me to meet his family. “You want me to meet your mother?” I ask out aloud, needing to confirm what I’ve heard.

“Of course. I’d have taken Sebastian and you already to Sunday lunch, except I was trying to stay out of the tabloids, remember?”

“Oh. And your mom will be cool with our thing…?”

“Ménage, Bailey. Or threesome, if you prefer.” He sounds amused.

“I can’t say those words out aloud in a sentence that has mom in it,” I reply. Then I groan. “Shit, if you are going to tell your mom about me, I have to tell my parents about us too at some point.”

“I’ve already told her.” He sounds puzzled. “I told her weeks ago.”

Oh. I don’t know what to do with that revelation, so I focus back on the conversation at hand. Looking at the photo on my screen again, I notice something that has so far escaped my attention. “Daniel, this was taken in your game room.”

“I know. The place is being swept for bugs now.”

“Who could have planted it?”

“My money’s on Cyrus,” he admits. “He more or less threatened to leak some more pictures if I didn’t resign as CEO.” He hesitates. “I think I’m going to do it, Bailey. The next photo could reveal your face, and I can’t risk it.”

My first, instinctive reaction is to tell him to fight. He can’t give in to Cyrus’ blackmail. Then I stop and consider the consequences of what would happen if naked photos of me end up in public circulation.

My colleagues would whisper about my personal life. If I do get tenure, everyone will assume it’s because I’m sleeping with the billionaire who gave the university one hundred and fifty million dollars. And my parents? Yikes. I don’t even want to think of their reaction.

Then I think about Daniel and Sebastian.

Daniel defended me against Clark before he even knew me, betting on me to succeed. He’s spent hours patiently coaching me, helping me practice shot after shot. Yes, he said one horrible and hurtful thing, but after that moment, he’s done everything to make amends.

Sebastian looks like a bad boy with his ripped abs and his tattoos, yet he’s cooked dinner for me more times than I can count. When I forget to eat, lost in research or engrossed by corrections, it’s Sebastian that reminds me to stop for food.

I’ll be lying if I told you that being in the public eye this way doesn’t bother me. Of course it does. I’m human, and this is a horrible, disgusting invasion of our privacy.

But when it comes down to it, I care more about Sebastian and Daniel. And I can’t see a version of the future that doesn’t have them in it. I love them. As insane as it is, I love both of them, and I want both of them in my life. For a long time. Forever.

My decision is made. When I speak, my voice is firm. “No. You can’t give in to Cyrus. Fight back, Daniel.”

He makes a noncommittal sound, and I fear he’s already made up his mind. “How could Cyrus have planted the camera anyway?” I ask him, to keep him from making any rash decisions. “Has he visited you lately?”