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Waiting for Penelope had my skin crawling. I'd changed out of Felix's sweater, leaving it folded on my desk. Judging by the way she'd acted about the whole beach house trip, seeing me wearing it might ruin any chances of keeping my so-called job.

            I kept wondering what it was she was so desperate to tell me. Had she figured something out? Was she expecting me to have new information for her? I tapped my foot anxiously, my gut turning. I had the awful feeling that something was about to go bad. The only comparable moment I had was the last time someone had opened a conversation with we need to talk.

            We'd been dating on and off through high school, between my escapades of rebellious teenage-hood. I hated living at home, and I resented most of the lifestyle I was living, but I loved him. My high school sweetheart. The moment we'd started dating, it had been like our relationship was set, the timeline laid out for us. Prom, college, marriage, kids. It was suffocating, but in the most masochistic way.

            But when he'd started that conversation with the same words as Penelope, the one I was waiting for with bated breath—the inevitable gap rising between us. We need to talk. I let it fall apart. And I hadn't even put up a fight, because I knew what it would mean if I did.

            With Penelope, though, it was different. There was no fight to put up, not when she was the one calling the shots.

            She pulled up in a shiny purple convertible in a scene that could have been straight out of a movie. Her hair was in curls, blowing out from beneath a wrap in the cold breeze. She wore sunglasses even though it was overcast. It was like she was speeding through California instead of visiting mid-winter on the East Coast.

            I got in beside her wordlessly, aware that her car and this neighborhood were not an appropriate combination. She stood out, everyone—even people in cars—were pausing to double-take.

            "What have you got for me?" she asked, maneuvering through the evening traffic with pursed lips and zero care. I winced as she cut off a motorcycle.

            "Um," I said, stammering. "I, uh, Felix has been helping Cole with some kind of girl trouble. Trouble with you."

            She rolled her eyes. "Cole is cheating on me."

            "What?" I gripped the edges of my seat as she took a left turn with barely a glance. How she had her license, I had no idea.

            "He's cheating on me."

            "Penelope, I'm sure it's just—"

            "What?" her voice was harsh, as if daring me to come up with a reason. I bit back my words. Anything I said to try and reassure her would be a lie. I couldn't calm her down when I had no real intel. She sighed heavily. "I don't know what to do."

            "Well... have you talked to him?"

            I didn't recall a clause in my contract saying I was here to give Penelope dating advice, but here we were.

            "Of course I've tried talking to him. But he's a brick wall. If it wasn't for Poppy I'd have no idea."

            "Poppy said something?"

            "Not exactly." Finally, Penelope seemed to find her destination. She pulled into an empty dirt parking lot surrounded by an empty field. Blowing her bangs from her face, she leaned back in her seat. "Cole used to play baseball here. Before he got really good. I'm pretty sure the club went out of business when he moved on, it's practically abandoned now."

            I looked from the patchy field of dead grass and back to the glamorous model beside me. I couldn't picture Penelope stepping her Gucci sneakers out of this car, let alone onto the falling apart wooden bleachers opposite us.

            "You used to watch?"

            "Back before..." Her voice trailed off before she gained composure. "Before things got complicated, yeah. I'd catch the bus up with the team. Man, times were so simple..."

            "Long distance must not be easy," I said. "I mean, considering you were together in high school."

            I was stalling, and it was painfully obvious.

            "Well yeah," she waved her hand away. "It's just so obvious, you know? I know Cole better than anyone. Even Poppy. But now he's more of a stranger than you."

            The way she looked at me brought a shiver to my spine.

            "Anyway, I'm pretty sure Felix is covering something," Penelope said.

            My heart dropped. I wanted to tell her I agreed—I was supposed to be telling her everything—but I didn't want to get Felix in trouble. I didn't want to betray him. But, wasn't that the whole point?

            I was being foolish. Even if I didn't tell Penelope, Felix would probably find out I was undercover anyway. It was the grimy, inevitable, truth. If Cole really was cheating on Penelope and Felix was helping him, then was Felix even the guy I thought he was? The way he'd driven me to get food and held me last night...

            "Are you sure Cole is cheating?" I asked. "Positive?"

            Penelope's eyes—lined with white eyeliner to make them even more striking—narrowed at me. "You don't think he is?"

            "That's not what I mean," I said quickly. "I just mean, how do you really know?"

            She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, and for a moment I was afraid she'd start up the car again. "I have my sources."

            "But proof?"

            The look she gave me almost made me crumple. "You know what would really make me have something to go by?"

            "What?"

            "If you would actually do your job."

            I averted my gaze. "It's not that simple. I'm too close to them, Felix is suspicious."

            "Then put some distance in. Stop being another cliché girl sucked into his web and keep an eye on Cole instead."

            "What do you mean his web?" I asked. My heart was pounding, I was already fearing for the worst.       

            "I mean anything you think he feels for you will die in an instant. He doesn't take these things seriously, Josie. Especially once he's gotten what he wants."         

            Penelope may as well have slapped me with how much that stung.

            "Hey, don't feel bad, he knows how to win people over. You have to use it to your advantage, play him right back, keep an eye on Cole. I'm talking, watching him go to and from class, following him at parties—"

            "I—" I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to find courage. I really was in too deep. "I don't think I'm the right person for this, Penelope."

            "You signed a contract, I've paid you every cent so far, don't you want to get out of that shitty apartment and get on with your life?"

            I looked to the sky, branches dancing above us in the ice-breeze. I shivered, wishing I wore a scarf. "Yes."

            "You know Felix won't be a thing after this, right? None of them will. You need to do what's right for yourself."

            Stepping on other people to get what I wanted. It was an oh-so familiar move. One I'd done many times before. One I'd been taught to do.

            "Penelope..." I said slowly. "Maybe you should talk to Cole, spend some time working it out. If you don't trust him, you're going to be paranoid every time you leave for work and it's only going to get worse—"

            "I don't need relationship advice," she said with a sarcastic laugh. It reminded me of the girls in school, the popular girls who would mock the outcasts. "I need reassurance. And I'm not getting any."

            I held my breath. I needed to do this. Suddenly, the right thing to do was as clear as day. I needed to stand my ground, and get out.

"I'm sorry. I'm not the right person."

            I could lose the money, even without Sebastian I could find another job. I could get by. Hell, I could even handle losing Felix if it meant doing the right thing. I could tell him the truth, unveil all of it. He'd hate me. All of them would, I'd completely violated their privacy. Their friend group. But I could have a clean conscience. Maybe Felix would understand—it was far off, but there was a possibility. Things could be okay.

            "You're sure there's nothing I could do to keep you on board?"

            I shook my head. Freedom was so close my heart was soaring.

            "More money?"

            "No, this isn't about the money anymore. I can't. That's it."

            Penelope sighed. And then she shifted in her seat and pulled out a yellow envelope from underneath her. Every fiber of my body sank.

            "I really hoped it wouldn't come to this, Joselyn Crawford. Or, should I say, Joselyn Clemonte. For one person, you sure have a lot of last names..."

            My vision was growing sparkly, Penelope's voice drifting into a deafening ringing as she placed the crumpled envelope on my lap.

            I peeled it open and pulled it out, but I already knew what I'd see—the heavy knot in my stomach already had me preparing for it. I don't know how Penelope had dug so deep, but it made sense. She hired a boyfriend-sitter. I was sure she had a few private investigators.

            Sitting on my knee was the crumpled document that could destroy me. The one that had me running from my parents. The one I'd tossed in her trash in the hopes of never seeing it again.

            My marriage certificate.