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Chapter Twenty-One
Harrison was backin the state and on his way over. For three days, Jonas had stayed at his father’s house. For nearly all of them, he hadn’t talked to anyone except Harrison. Jonas was hiding from reporters. Or just one.
Even if the lawyer had left seven messages on his phone before announcing he was just coming over, Jonas still wasn’t actually ready to talk to anyone. After some not-so-pleasant greetings, Harrison stated, “I talked to Agent Conley. Since Harvey had the foresight to talk to a reporter and make you look like you were involved, we’re going to do an interview ourselves. It’s the only way.”
“If you think it will help,” Jonas replied, but he was done with reporters. After sleeping with one for over a week, he never wanted to see another reporter again.
“I think it will help get your side to the public. And since there’s no information pointing at you, there is no way you’re going to be in any trouble. This would just get you some good PR, which is something your company will be needing a lot of when this is settled.”
“I still worry.”
“That’s why we’re doing the interview. I know the perfect reporter. So far, she hasn’t gotten many big interviews, but I think she’d be up for it.”
“As long as it’s not Meghan Murphy from the Times, I’m up for anyone.” Well, not anyone, but there was no way Harrison would find the one reporter Jonas wanted nothing to do with.
“Her name is Bea Bradford, and she’s perfect,” he stated louder than anything else he had said. “Sorry, Sera made me say that.”
“Fuck no. Not that bitch,” Jonas hissed. In what universe did her name come out of his friend’s mouth? “Do you know her?”
Is that how she knew what he was doing? How she knew last week about the entire thing? She had been in the closet after two days after he started talking to the feds.
“I can find someone else if you don’t want her.” Harrison dodged the question, but that was answer enough for Jonas.
“Anyone else,” he mumbled and sat up in bed, hating that he would now need to shower and probably shave after a week of doing neither.
“I’ll call you when I know who the reporter will be. For now, just stick to your dad’s house and don’t talk to anyone.”
“Don’t worry. I have no one to talk to.” He hung up on the man and tossed his phone on the bed. He still saw his naked redhead in it, even if she had only spent one night there.
Flopping down on the same bed, he covered his eyes with his hands. This was even worse than he had thought it would be. He loved his uncle and didn’t want him in prison, but he was a thief and con man; he couldn’t just walk free.
“How are you?” Louisa asked from the doorway. Glancing up at her for a moment, she reminded him of Buzz in the blue T-shirt and tight jeans, just like she would have worn.
“Fine, I guess.”
“Dad told me about Uncle Harvey. Is he really going to jail?”
“Probably. Shouldn’t you be in school today?” He wondered what day it was but was sure it was a weekday.
“No, I just can’t. Not after your fight with Buzz. There’s just so much going on around here,” Louisa replied, but Jonas wondered if it was more that she wasn’t interested in her classes when the house was so active.
“Sorry you had to see that.”
“I don’t think she’s writing a story about you. She never asked me questions about you at all. If she was writing a story about you, she would have asked a ton of them,” Louisa explained as she walked into the room.
“Reporters are sneaky.”
“Buzz wasn’t. She was always nice to me, even if Mom didn’t want her to be. The night I went out with her and Harper, they were both nice to me. They didn’t have to be.”
“Where did you go that night?”
“Some bar by her house. It was so much fun; I wish I had friends like them. Real friends. I tried to call her all weekend, but her phone is off,” Louisa said as if telling him she had already forgiven Buzz. But Jonas wasn’t quite ready yet.
“Don’t call her, Louisa. Just let it go. Make different friends,” he suggested.
“I looked up some of her articles on the internet. She didn’t get any pieces close to an interview with you. Mostly just weddings and such. Maybe she tried to interview you but then couldn’t. She said she got fired, so I called the paper to check. She no longer works there.” Louisa leaned against his dresser, smiling.
“What was she doing here then? Why was she here?”
