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"Or maybe real reporters have something better to do with their time?"
Jake snickered. "You don't think I'm a real reporter, huh?"
"The definition of a paparazzi is closer to stalker than reporter. We both know that."
"That's funny. Especially considering I happened to get a call from an anonymous source about some interesting stuff from your past."
I hesitated but didn't let my face break. "Right, I'm sure that's the case. That you're not just fishing for information."
Jake snickered. "We'll see." He snapped two more pictures. "Anything else you want to say before the article comes out?"
I really couldn't tell if he was bluffing, but I refused to give him any satisfaction. I slid my hands in my pocket. "Go fuck yourself, Jake."
The rest of the day unfolded in a bit of a haze. I did my best to keep up with Claire, to show Olive affection—those were effortless things I didn't have to think about doing—but other thoughts kept shoving themselves in my mind.
What did Jake Hall have on my past?
Probably nothing. I'd gotten threats from reporters and paparazzi in the past, but nothing had ever come of it. Coming from a family in the public eye and then building my own wealth had meant that I'd gone above and beyond to scrub my name clean. It wasn't like I'd been planning a career in the politics for the last decade, but it had been something that had crossed my mind.
Other than Adam lying to me about Olive being pregnant when we were in college, I really couldn't fathom what Jake was referring to. And while that scandal wouldn't be big enough to throw us off the political wheel, if we gave a press conference and Jessie mentioned something other than what was in the article, it might make some people suspicious. At the worst, it would make our voters question our reliability.
My only hope was that whatever article Jake was referring to would come out before the scheduled press conference later this week. Then we'd have a chance to either adjust things or recreate the story accordingly.
Either way, as we wound down at the apartment that evening, I figured I needed to do some work. I still had the USB Jessie had given me, and the sooner I fixed the problem of the hacker who had broken into my cyber security system, the faster Jessie's faith in my capabilities would be one hundred percent restored, and we could move forward, focusing purely on politics.
With Olive and Claire curled on the couch watching a Disney movie, I excused myself and retreated to the back of the Penthouse where my office was located. It was a side room off the front hall with a desk and six computer screens set up side by side. There were two separate hard drives, and on days I couldn't go into my actual office, I worked here.
Sitting in my chair, I grabbed the USB drive Jessie had given me earlier in the day and stuck it into the hard drive. With something like this—security footage that covered the entire house—it was easier to turn on all six monitors.
On top of the camera footage from the prior month, there was a folder on the hard drive with a list of every guest who'd entered his property from thirty days up until the night of the masquerade ball.
I had no idea what I was looking for.
While I had created a cyber security company, I wasn't exactly a Private Investigator. In fact, I'd hired one to investigate this completely separately. I guess I was just going to be a separate set of eyes to check if I noticed anything out of the ordinary in the footage.
I set the video to twice the normal speed, leaned back into my chair, and got comfortable.
My main focus was comparing the list of names Jessie had given me to anyone I'd seen in the footage and keep track of which areas of the house they visited. I also intended to cross reference any issues with security footage to suspicious activity.
Jessie had hosted three events in the last month—a fundraiser, a black tie charity raffle, and the masquerade ball. The fundraiser and the black tie charity raffle took the longest to sort through, mainly because they were nearly triple the size of the masquerade ball. By midnight, I'd only gotten half way through the second event when there was a knock on the office door.
Yawning, I stretched and opened the door.
Olive was in her pajamas—my shirt, again.
"Hey," she smiled.
"Hey you," I sighed, sliding my hand under the shirt and around her waist. "I'm starting to like the look of you in my clothes."
She leaned into the door frame. "Maybe you can see me getting out of it too."
I sighed, my dick throbbing just at the thought. "Fuck. I want that so much. But I'm going to be late tonight because I need to catch up on some work stuff."
She peered past me, but since my computers were set in the back of office, she couldn't see anything. Not that I really cared. There was nothing there that she would have been interested in. But I'd still signed a privacy contract with all my clients, so it was out of habit that I kept the door mostly closed.
"Okay." She stood on her tip toes and kissed me. Her nipples hardened as her chest pressed against mine. She took my hand in hers and pressed it against her crotch. I could feel the moisture in her panties, and my dick throbbed at the coy smile on her face."Just don't stay up too late."
As she turned around, I slapped her ass. "I might have to wake you up either way."
