My eyes widen, and I lean against my chair. “Okay, yeah. That takes the cake. What happened?”
“It’s a long story.” She darts her eyes to the side, then clears her throat and claps her hands together. “Well, I think I have everything I need. I might have some follow-up questions later, though, if that’s okay?”
“Sure. But you’re not printing any of those relationship debacles, right?” I ask, unable to hide the hint of concern in my voice.
She smiles. “I won’t. Don’t worry.”
Turning off the recorder, she starts gathering up her things. “Do you have a favorite picture you want me to use for the article? You probably have a media team I can reach out to. Right, Mr. Celebrity?”
I really wish I could deny that, but she’s right. “You know it. Give me your email, and I’ll have my PR team contact you.”
I give her my phone with the notes app open, and she types in her email.
“Thanks,” I say when she hands it back.
“No, thankyou. I owe you one,” she says, picking up her tape recorder. “I was about to relapse.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I can’t exactly investigate while I’m here,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Remember when I said me being here was a minor setback? Well, it’s more of a probation thing, where I have to show my boss I can follow orders and keep myself out of trouble.”
“Why don’t they think you can follow orders?”
She pauses, then replies, “Because I didn’t.”
“That’ll do it,” I say with a chuckle.
“But it was a big case! I dug up all the details, and we uncovered one of the biggest scandals of the century. Have you heard of the HelixCare scandal?Iwas the one who discovered they were running a fake medical trial.”
“Oh, wow, that was you?” I remember when the story released a few weeks ago. It was huge.
“Yeah. We were spinning in place, couldn’t find the proof we needed to expose them, so I passed as a volunteer in the study—against my boss’s orders. Anyway, that’s why I’m here.”
“Pretty impressive. Well, I’m glad I could be a distraction. My life isn’t exactly riveting compared to what you’re used to, but better than nothing, right?”
“Yep.” A grin pulls at her lips.
We get up and exit the room, Harper carrying her bag of Twix.
“I’m heading out,” I say. “Where are you off to?”
“Back to my room. I have to call my grandma.”
I walk her back to the elevator, and she turns to me with a sparkle in her eye.
“Thanks again,” she says. “I guess I’ll see you at the game on Monday.”
I cock my head. “You’re not coming to the parade tomorrow?”
“Oh, right. Yes, of course I am. But you’ll be literallyparadingthrough a sea of thousands of people chanting your name, so we won’t exactly see each other, Mr. Celebrity.” She winks.
“Touché,” I say. She’ll never let me live that name down. “See you around, then.”
The elevator pings, and as I turn around and cross the lobby, I feel… lighter. The interview wasn’t that bad after all, and neither is this girl. But suddenly, I kind of wish I could flip the script. Putherin the hot seat. Ask the questions. Figure out what she’s hiding behind that sharp tongue and those watchful eyes. Harper is a puzzle, one that I suddenly want desperately to solve.
8
Harper
