Page 77 of The Grump I Got Stuck With

“One,” I whispered, covering the speaker. I watched her dart to the cupboard with Princess at her heels.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m so scatter-brained right now,” Isla mumbled, “and I don’t mean to dump this on you while you’re watching Kenna.”

“Kenna’s about to try to eat her weight in biscuits. We’re all good here.” Please, woman, just put me out of my misery and tell me what’s going on. “What happened?”

“A tabloid down in London rang me at the inn,” she explained. “Turns out one of their journalists found the town’s tourism site…including the photos I took at the winter festival.”

“Okay?” I said, still not following.

“Someone identified Alistair in the background of some of those photos, so they know he’s in Braeburn.”

Right. Fuck. I drummed my fingers against my lips. It hadn’t been realistic to hope that we’d be able to stay off the map forever, but they’d located him faster than I’d expected. “I guess…we just say nothing if there are any more inquiries, right? Alistair always says the best way to deal with the press is to flat-out ignore them. No big reactions.”

“You don’t understand,” Isla said, voice pitched. “It’s not just one tabloid. I’ve gotten multiple calls in the last hour. So many I’ve stopped answering my phone. Word has gotten out in a big way. I lied when they asked if Alistair lives in the area, saying he was probably just visiting for the festival, but I don’t think they believed me.”

Well, not if she was stammering the way she was now.

“They started asking questions about when Alistair left London and about Kenna. It was all so…invasive,” she said, clicking her tongue. “Like they were trying to trip me up. I immediately switched all my social media to private and temporarily disabled our town tourism site so no one else can access the photos of him and Kenna, but I feel like it’s already too late. I wouldn’t be surprised if we have paparazzi in town by tonight.”

I rubbed my forehead. This was exactly the mess Alistair had been worried about yesterday. So much for my hopes that the worst of the paparazzi would be confined to London. This was literally what these people did for a living, wasn’t it? Hunt people and turn worlds upside down to entertain the masses.

Bile gathered at the back of my throat as I glanced down at Kenna, nibbling her biscuit and giggling with Princess. She didn’t deserve any of this.

“That’s not all,” Isla said.

Oh, for the love of…I groaned. What else could there possibly be?

“Alistair and Kenna weren’t the only ones they asked about. They asked about you, too, Madison.”

“Me? What do I have to do with this?”

“They don’t have a name for you—yet—but they know you’re the same woman he was photographed with in London. I guess a paparazzo caught you going to dinner or something?”

I covered my eyes with my hand, Isla’s voice becoming background noise. We’d managed to have an almost-media-free trip in London, and that one miserable man had to ruin it all.

“Anyway, they very clearly think you’re with Alistair. And they’re⁠—”

“Not wrong,” I murmured.

“True, but that’s none of their business. I denied knowing anything. But they flat-out offered me money if I’d name the woman who’d replaced Jessica.”

I glowered. God, that’s exactly what I wanted to be known as in the tabloids. I could see the headlines writing themselves now. Mystery blonde on Shaw’s arm—Is she an upgrade or his next disaster?

Fuck! Why couldn’t these people move on?

“I’m so sorry,” Isla said again, sounding distraught. “What a mess I’ve made.”

“This isn’t your fault,” I told her. “You couldn’t have known what would happen when you took those photos.”

“If you say so,” she said, sighing heavily.

For a beat, I worried about her. The woman was too pregnant to be this stressed. “Seriously, don’t beat yourself up. Alistair said this was coming.”

“Just let us know if you need anything,” Isla said. “Even if it’s just company until Alistair gets back. Locke and I can swing by and hang out.”

“We’re all right for now. But I’ll keep you posted,” I promised.

We hung up, and I immediately jumped onto social media, switching my accounts to private. I didn’t need strangers digging around in my life. Once that was done, all I wanted was to not to think about the whole mess. It was time to focus on Kenna. Thankfully, she’d been too busy stuffing biscuits in her mouth and sharing them with an eager Princess to pay attention to what Isla and I had been talking about.