The Rejected Jinx Is A Billionaire Heiress novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Room 9

In a motel, Cora refuses the ride, watches the party video go viral, and takes Lorna's too-sweet call; at dawn Margaret knocks.

The alarm on Levi Rhodes's car shrieked until he reached in and shut it off.

He didn't say anything about the dent in his roof.

"I'm not getting in your car," I said. "I'm not going to your office, your hotel or your mother's house. I'm going to sleep."

"I understand."

"Do you? You tested me off a cup."

"Yes." He took one card out of his coat and held it out. "That was wrong, and I'll say so again whenever you want. My number is on it."

I didn't take the card.

He put it on the hood of the car and stepped back.

Then I walked to the bus stop on Fairview Road with a bracelet in my fist and a duffel of nothing, because I had left everything inside the house.

I had two hundred and twelve dollars in my account.

The Starlite Motor Lodge charged sixty-eight a night and didn't ask for ID.

Room 9 had a brown bedspread, a humming ice machine outside the window and a faint smell of cigarettes.

I sat on the edge of the bed in my party dress with the bracelet in my lap.

My phone had been buzzing since the bus.

I turned it over.

There were dozens of missed calls and a wall of notifications.

The video was already online.

Someone had posted it with a caption: "Rich mom throws daughter out at engagement party for being 'bad luck'." It had two million views.

I watched myself drop to my knees with a handful of napkins. I watched my mother point at the door.

I watched myself set down my house key.

The comments were a flood.

"She stood up for herself so calmly."

"Her mom is a monster."

"Wait, what did the mom say at the end? She said she wasn't hers?"

Somebody had slowed the clip down and put the words in white letters at the bottom of the screen.

You were never even ours.

I put the phone face down on the bedspread.

It rang in my hand a second later.

MOM.

I stared at the word for a long time.

Then I opened the voice recorder, pressed the red button and answered.

"Cora, sweetheart." Lorna's voice was soft and warm. "Where are you? I've been so worried."

"At a motel."

"Oh, baby. That's no place for you. Come home, and we'll talk it all through."

"You said I wasn't yours."

"I said a lot of things. I was upset. Mrs. Hendricks was standing right there." She laughed, a little too bright. "You know how I get when I'm cornered."

"Is it true?"

"Of course not. Don't be silly."

"Then tell me where I was born."

She was quiet a moment too long.

"St. Brigid's, honey. You know that."

"What time?"

"What?"

"What time was I born, Mom?"

"I don't remember the exact time, Cora. It was a long time ago."

I looked at the bracelet.

"Cora. Listen to me." Her voice dropped and sweetened until it hurt. "A man was outside the house tonight. I saw him from the window. Do not talk to him. People like that want something. I'll take care of you. I'll even put twenty thousand dollars in your account in the morning, as a gift. All you have to do is sign a little paper saying you were never mistreated."

"A paper."

"Just to keep the family private. Bree's wedding is at stake."

I held the phone away from my face and almost laughed.

Twenty thousand dollars. Twenty-two years of apologies to a stone, and the price was twenty thousand.

"I'll think about it," I said.

"That's my girl."

I ended the call and saved the recording.

The phone buzzed again right away.

It was a text from my sister. Bree had never once sent me a message that wasn't about a schedule.

Don't let him take you. Please. I'll explain everything, I promise. Just don't go with them.

I read it three times.

Then I wrote back: Who are "them"?

She typed for a long time. Then the dots stopped.

No answer came.

I lay back on the bedspread with all my clothes on, the lamp burning and the bracelet under my palm.

I must have slept, because a knock woke me in the gray early light.

It was soft and careful, three taps, and then a pause.

I opened the door on the chain.

A woman stood on the walkway in a camel coat, with straight brown hair going gray.

Her right hand was pressed flat against her chest.

"Hello, Cordelia," she said. "I'm sorry to come so early. I couldn't wait any longer."

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