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“Who? Why? Why would they ask questions about me?”
I glance at Harrison, who is staring at me with a grim expression. Shit. Does he know what this is about?
Icy fingers work their way through my gut, that sinking feeling.
“I don’t know, I’m sorry,” she says. “I thought I was helping. They sounded so nice. I told them all about you, about your podcast, but I think I got the name wrong.”
But she got the name right.
And podcast aside, why the hell is someone asking my mother about me?
“You told them all about me?” I ask incredulously.
“No, not everything,” she says. “Good heavens, I know you’ve had your share of troubles with me and your past. I didn’t say anything personal. I kept it all very light. I even told them that if they wanted to know more, they would have to talk to you. I gave them your number, but I’m guessing they didn’t call.”
My blood is whooshing so loud in my head that I barely hear her when she says, “I’m sorry, Piper. I thought I told you earlier. Guess I was so distracted about everything.”
Monica is watching me carefully. “I suppose the real question here is why someone wants to interview Piper. No offense, but if nothing happened after that article in the paper, I can’t see why someone would take an interest in you now.”
Harrison clears his throat loudly, bringing all eyes to him as he stands by Eddie at the head of the table. “I’m afraid I know the answer to that question.”
He gives me a look that says he’s sorry, and those icy fingers are practically turning me inside out.
Oh. No.
This is going to be bad.
“Well, what is it?” Eddie asks. “What’s going on?”
Harrison rubs his lips together and takes in a deep breath. That admission of vulnerability alone causes Monica to sit on the edge of her seat, her expression ping-ponging back and forth between us.
“There were some photographs published on Facebook this morning,” Harrison says. “I didn’t discover them until they were shared on TMZ.” He adds, looking mildly ashamed, “I get news alerts from them.”
“What photographs?” Monica asks.
But somehow I already know. I already know what he’s going to say, and things are about to get so much worse.
“Yesterday,” Harrison begins, “Piper took me into town. Except that she didn’t take me to town. She took me to a lake.”
NO. NO. NO.
“Okay,” Eddie says slowly, clearly confused.
“We went swimming at this lake,” Harrison says. “We were only gone for a couple of hours. Maybe we were in the lake for one.” He licks his lips and looks at me, and I can see how hard this is going to be on him, let alone me. I’m practically gripping the edge of the table. “The lake seems private, but there are some houses at the end of it. I guess someone in one of those houses was nearby and we didn’t see them. They took photos of us.”
“And? So?” Eddie says. Then he chuckles, “Were you naked or something?”
Harrison swallows. “I was.”
“Oh,” Monica says softly. She looks at me, her brows up, but doesn’t say anything.
“So they got a naked picture of you,” Eddie says carefully, glossing over the fact that Harrison was naked around me. “That’s not the end of the world.”
“Eddie,” Monica says, giving him a pointed look. “Harrison was naked. In a lake. With Piper. What do you think was happening?”
Eddie’s brow furrows as he thinks that over, then his eyes go wide. He looks at Harrison with a mixture of shock and, well, amusement, of all things. “You . . .” Eddie then nods at me. “And you?”
I keep my mouth shut. This is Harrison’s home turf right now, and I’m not about to open my mouth and make things worse.
“How long has this been going on?” Monica asks. She’s not looking at me, which hurts.
“Not long,” Harrison says, looking uncomfortable. “But I’m afraid our attempts to keep it a secret from you and the world haven’t worked. They took photos of us in the lake, looking particularly, uh, amorous.”
I put my face in my hands, wanting the ground to swallow me whole.
Pictures. Of me and Harrison. In the lake.
Having sex.
I mean, thank god they wouldn’t have been able to see anything since we were hidden by the water, but even so, the pictures are everywhere now. TMZ!
“I suppose they identified the both of you,” Eddie says.
“The original Facebook post was posted by someone who lives on the lake, angry that tourists were, uh, having sex in the lake. Though actually I feel they were more angry about us being in the lake in general, since we weren’t supposed to be there.”
“Oh, sweetie, you didn’t take him to Lake Maxwell, did you?” my mother asks. “You know Bert has been very vocal about teenagers not going there.” Never mind the fact that we obviously aren’t teens, which makes it even worse. Adults who should have known better.
