"Enough!"
Larkin barked, stepping protectively in front of Jocelyn Thorne.
"Jocelyn, I thought you were a smart girl. We're history. There's zero point in making a scene like this."
"Or do you think the parting gift I gave you wasn't enough?"
That last sentence carried a distinct edge of a threat.
Jocelyn Hunter heard it loud and clear.
But the resentment burning in her chest refused to die down.
Of course it wasn't enough!
If Larkin had just bought her that white pearl gown without a second thought, she wouldn't be throwing this tantrum.
Instead, he had the nerve to act like she was some greedy, delusional gold-digger. "That's not what I meant, Larkin. I actually have real feelings for you."
She lied through her teeth as the words left her mouth.
Forget about Larkin—even she didn't buy that garbage.
"Real feelings?" Larkin looked at her with a mocking half-smile. "In that case, I
assume you won't be needing those two casting deals I gave you?"
One was a spot on a trending reality show, and the other was a supporting role in a major feature film.
Those were the best gigs she'd ever landed in her entire career.
If she played her cards right, she could finally hit the A-list.
"I..." Jocelyn faltered, absolutely terrified of losing those opportunities.
Larkin knew exactly where to hit her. "That's what I thought," he scoffed coldly. "Leave."
"Push your luck any further, and things are going to get very ugly for you."
With the writing clearly on the wall, her face paled dramatically.
She spun on her heel and stormed toward the exit, nearly colliding with Claire and her cousins.
Spotting Claire, a wave of humiliating embarrassment washed over her.
Just a few days ago, she had practically begged Claire for that exact dress.
Now, seeing her here stirred up a suffocating wave of despair and fury.
If Claire had just handed over the damn dress, she never would have offended Larkin, and she wouldn't have been discarded like trash.
Shooting Claire a venomous glare, she shoved past them and hurried out the door.
Claire stood there in complete silence.
Getting death glares for absolutely no reason was definitely a new experience.
"Do you know her?" Yolande asked, bristling at the hostility directed at her cousin.
Claire threw her hands up. "Some people just want to kick a stray dog when they're having a bad day."
Yolande burst into laughter. "Who compares themselves to a dog?"
Sebastian was the first to stroll right had crossed.
up to Larkin. The family gatherings
paths at plenty
so he recognized him instantly.
"Well, if it isn't Larkin," he chirped, playing the part of the clueless, upbeat kid
perfectly as he sauntered over.
Larkin clearly hadn't anticipated running into Regina's relatives—especially the ones he'd just seen recently.
He cleared his throat awkwardly. "What a coincidence. Claire, Yolande, Seb?"
"You three are here for haircuts?"
"Yep!" Sebastian beamed innocently. "School starts soon, so the girls needed a spa day. I'm just here carrying the bags."
"Are you getting your hair done too, Larkin?" Sebastian subtly glanced at the woman standing beside him.
The teen had a razor-sharp memory-this was undeniably the twin sister of the woman Owen had been having lunch with earlier.
The resemblance was uncanny, but he could easily tell them apart.
It seemed Larkin's version of 'getting his hair done' involved a lot more
extracurricular activities than theirs did.
Larkin rubbed the bridge of his nose and nodded stiffly. "Yeah. I heard this place does great styling."
"Thought I'd give it a shot."
Sebastian gave a slow, knowing nod.
"It's a great spot. But honestly,
Larkin, with your..... situation wouldn't
you need a hair transplant first
before they can actually style anything?"
Larkin fell dead silent. He might as well have just shouted 'you're bald' through a megaphone.
"You don't need a stylist, Larkin. Buying a nice hairpiece would be way more cost- effective."
Claire teased lightly.
She didn't actually harbor any ill will toward the man. He and Regina had a mutual understanding—an open marriage.
To Claire, that was far better than those miserable relationships where one partner cheated while the other was expected to sit at home dike a martyr.