The Shameless Hour (The Ivy Years #4)

“Lianne, if this acting thing doesn’t work out, you should consider litigation.”

We sat there quietly together for a moment. “We’re still going to prank the football game, right?” Lianne asked eventually.

“Absofuckinglutely.”

Twenty-Six

Bella

For several nights in a row, Lianne and I plotted like Churchill and FDR. Focusing on my little revenge plot was just what I needed. Even though our Urban Studies project was due soon, Rafe and I were avoiding each other. And I was still ducking the rest of the world. But Lianne enjoyed planning with me, and I sure did appreciate it.

We’d just finished our dinner — sushi this time — when Lianne’s phone rang. “I gotta take this before we talk about transportation,” she said. Startling me, she answered the phone, “God! What do you want?” She listened for a moment, her eyes darting around like an angry pinball. “Yeah, I haven’t decided where I’m going for Thanksgiving. Bermuda sounds nice, but I might fly out to Palm Springs to be with Mom. Or I might go home with a friend.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s a he. And he lives in Massachusetts.”

I was eavesdropping like mad, of course. Lianne never said much about her life. And come to think of it, I’d never heard her phone ring before.

“Bob, I haven’t been able to make up my mind. Cross me off your guest list, if you need clarity. I’ll go elsewhere.” She smiled to herself, as if she’d scored a point in some game that only she knew how to play. “Don’t nag me okay? It’s so unattractive. Later.” She disconnected the call.

Damn. And here I’d begun the year thinking Lianne was meek.

“What?” she asked, and I realized I was staring.

“Who just got a beat-down?” I asked.

She wrinkled her world-famous nose. “My manager is a pain in the ass. And I talk tough, but somehow I always end up doing whatever he wants.”

“Do you not have plans for Thanksgiving?”

She waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll probably go to Palm Springs, where my bitch of a mother lives. But I can’t tell him in advance because then he’ll show up there. And he’ll drum up some parties or appearances or some other crap that I don’t want to do. So I need to keep him guessing.”

Ouch. “I’d vote for going home with the guy from Massachusetts. Sounds like fun.”

Lianne picked up her clipboard again. “Bella, if he were real, he’d be at the top of the list.”

“Oh.” Oops. “You were very convincing.”

She sighed. “That’s why they pay me the big bucks. Now, back to our plan. The models can take the train up from the city, and we’ll pick them up in the rental van.”

I sat down next to her and looked over her shoulder at the notes. “Don’t forget that we’re going to need an excellent parking spot — between the tailgate tent and the stadium, with quick access to the road,” I argued. “The van has to be in position well before the train comes.”

“Good point.” She scribbled a note on her clipboard.

“The girls will have to take taxis to campus. It’s better if they don’t arrive until the game is underway. I want them to attract attention, but not until go time.”

“Gotcha.”

“Hi,” said a voice behind me.

Whipping my head around, I found Rafe leaning against the frame of the bathroom door. “Where did you come from?”

He raised his eyebrows. “We still need to finish our project. You want me to go back downstairs?”

A somewhat awkward silence followed, during which Lianne looked from me to Rafe and back again.

“No,” I said slowly. “It’s just that we were plotting something, and you startled me.”

“Plotting what?” he asked, crossing his arms in front of his beautiful chest. I got a little lost for a second staring at the way his T-shirt stretched across his lickable abs. And by the fact that I knew if I stood up and went to him, he’d wrap those long arms around me.

I checked that urge, though. Because that way lay the abyss.

“What are you plotting?” he asked again.

Lianne beat me to it. “The best thing ever! I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces.”

Rafe lifted an eyebrow at me.

“Maybe we should talk,” I said.

We went into my room for a little privacy. Rafe listened to my plan with a serious expression in his dark brown eyes. “What if you get into trouble for this?” was his first question.