Oh, God. Those pictures. She staggered back to one of the big, cozy chairs and fell into it, her mouth open, her heart racing. Crap. Shit. She’d thought things couldn’t get worse, but this was worse. A part of her past she’d hoped to never revisit was back, biting her on the ass.
She should’ve been used to it. After all, she’d just spent a month facing her past head-on, and it’d been the hardest thing she’d ever done.
But she’d been fixing her past while concentrating on her future, and that future had just come to a grinding halt. The pictures that Lucile referred to had been taken when she’d been nineteen, during her short “modeling” career. She’d used the money to pay her college tuition. It’d been that or quit school, and she’d never been a quitter. She wasn’t going to apologize for that.
But that didn’t mean she wanted the pictures from all those years ago to surface now.
Or ever. “I’m going to have to kill him,” she murmured.
“Or,” Lucille said, “you could hit him where it hurts.”
“Hitting him in the nuts might get me arrested,” Aubrey said. “And I’m trying to clean up my karma, not make it worse.”
Lucille smiled. “I meant his wallet, honey. Sue him.”
No—she couldn’t. The pictures were on the Internet if someone knew where to look, and since Aubrey hadn’t retained the copyright, she doubted she had a leg to stand on.
“Now, mind you,” Lucille went on, “the picture he used is nothing to be ashamed of. You have a lovely figure, Aubrey. But the link to the others…”
“He published the website address?” Why, oh, why hadn’t she read his entire book?
Because he was slime, that’s why.
“He did,” Lucille said. “And to be honest, some of those pictures…well, they’re not quite as…tasteful as the one in his book.”
Yeah. She didn’t remember a single one in the bunch being…tasteful.
Lucille took in Aubrey’s expression and frowned with concern. “You really didn’t know.”
She shook her head. “No.”
The older woman sighed. “I’m sorry. Honestly, those pictures, they don’t bother me none. I’m a modern woman, you see. But there’re some people in town who aren’t as liberated as I am. They might view this as…well…”
“Porn,” Aubrey said flatly.
“Well, only if they haven’t read Fifty Shades,” Lucille said helpfully.
Good God. This was bad. Very bad. While she sat there picturing her reputation’s demise, the bell on the store door tinkled. She looked up in time to see her father stride into the store in an elegant suit, his Bluetooth headset on his ear. Clearly he was in work mode.
Aubrey couldn’t imagine what had brought him here until his cold gaze met hers. And then she knew.
The pictures. From the frying pan into the fire… “If you’ll excuse me, Lucille,” she murmured.
“No problem, dear.”
“Aubrey,” her father said when she’d risen on shaky legs and walked over to him.
“Long time no see,” she said lightly. “You missed the last few family dinners.”
He didn’t buy into the small talk. “You posed nude on the Internet.”
She took a moment to try to draw in a deep breath for calm. Try being the operative word. “It was a long time ago,” she finally said.
“So you’re saying there’s a statute of limitations on stupid decisions?” he asked.
Ouch. “No,” she said carefully. “There’s not. Of course not. But at the time—”
“At the time you were in college. What kind of serious college student poses for immoral pictures—”
“It was a legit modeling job, Dad.”
“Legit? Please.” He stared her down. “I’m bitterly disappointed in you.”
“I paid my way through college with those pictures,” she said, vibrating with frustration, heartbreak, and now anger. And actually, the anger felt good—damn good. “You were a little busy at the time with the new family, but I paid my own way, without asking you for a cent. So I’m sorry if I didn’t turn out the way you wanted me to, but you know what, Dad? You didn’t turn out the way I wanted you to, either. So consider us even.”
Ben worked late. He didn’t get home until seven. He’d been texted approximately a million times by both Luke and Jack, demanding his presence for dinner.
They’d clearly sensed a tremor in the force, and now they wanted to drive him crazy. He had missed calls as well, wanting to know where the hell he was.
Ignoring it all, he opened his fridge. Empty. Damn. Figuring he might as well face the music sooner rather than later, he drove to the Love Shack and dropped into a chair at Luke and Jack’s table. “You called?” he asked drily.
Luke looked at Jack.
“Me?” Jack asked Luke. “I thought we’d agreed you’d do it.”
Luke shook his head and pointed at Jack.
Jack sighed and pulled out his phone.
“Forget it,” Ben said. “I don’t want to see Facebook. Nor do I want to know how the hell Lucille already found out that Aubrey and I broke up.”
“Uh…” Luke said, and looked at Jack.
“You and Aubrey broke up?” Jack asked Ben.
“You weren’t calling about the breakup?”
Luke shook his head.
Jack tried to pull his phone back, but Ben snatched it, and then went still as a stone.
The picture on the screen was of a woman in a very skimpy kitten costume, which wasn’t the problem. The problem was that the woman was hotter than hot.
And she was Aubrey.
She was clearly younger, maybe even not of legal age, posing on her knees, one hand curled like a cat with its claws out, the other holding a whip. She wore cat ears, and her “tail” was curved around her million-dollar bod, which was encased in a snug leather bodice, tiny leather shorts, and stiletto heels.
“It’s from an adult costume website,” Jack said. “An X-rated costume website. Near as I can tell, there are a small handful of different models, maybe five in total, modeling close to a hundred different costumes that you can order for home delivery—sans the girls, of course.”
Luke snorted. “Thorough much?”
“I like to do my research, especially when it involves nearly naked women.”
“That’s my woman,” Ben said, and both Luke’s and Jack’s brows went up.
“Thought you broke up,” Luke said lightly.
Ben ignored them and flipped through the site, sucking in a breath because Jack had showed him the most PG-rated costume in the bunch. He found the same younger Aubrey as a “slutty nurse,” a “slutty French maid,” a “slutty bunny,” and a “slutty police officer.” Christ. He closed the browser window and handed the phone back. “How the hell did you find this?”
“Lucille came to me with it,” Luke said. “Apparently it was in Ted Marshall’s book—the one that no one in town read until the seniors got hold of it for their book club.”
“Why did Lucille come to you?”
Luke smiled. “She wanted me to arrest Ted for being a ‘spineless dickhead.’ She’s worried about Aubrey because it’s already getting around. Someone tweeted about it, and someone else posted some of the pictures on Instagram, and she doesn’t want this to affect Aubrey’s grand opening on Saturday.”