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“I...used to.”
“You used to?” I rake my hands through my hair, trying to wrap my brain around this unexpected turn of events. Khloe worked for Starlight? Of all the... I sift through the information, and in a calm voice that belies the storm going on inside me, I ask, “You’re a reporter, then?”
“I...” She stops speaking and jams her teeth into her bottom lip, answering me without words. And this time, I do laugh, like a goddamn crazy man. Hasn’t Starlight screwed with me enough already?
“Yeah, okay. You’re a reporter. I get it.”
“Technically, I am,” she finally says. “But you don’t get it.”
I gesture to her arm, the one still behind her back. “Who’s calling?
“Ah, it’s Benjamin Murray.”
I stare at her, incredulous, and my head rears back. “The fucking owner of Starlight?”
She waves her hand. “But it’s not what you think.”
“So you keep saying.” What the ever-loving fuck. I stare at her, hard. “What the hell have you done?”
“The story...the story Avery did on you,” she says as she comes toward me.
I back up. I can’t be close to her right now, not when all signs lead to one thing. Khloe is here to get a story on me. “What about it?”
“None of it was true.” She tugs on her T-shirt and slips into her shorts as she says, “I talked to Avery this week. She said she set you up.”
“What are you talking about?” So those were all the secret phone calls? To Avery? Then why the hell is the owner calling her? None of this really adds up.
“She set you up. She knew the dancer and had her slip something in your drink. You were drugged and tricked, all for a headline.”
I take a deep breath, hold it for a second as I process, then let it out in a loud whoosh. “And you were going to tell me this when?”
“I wanted to tell you, I just—”
“Wanting to and telling me are two different things,” I blurt out, cutting her off as rage rockets through me.
“Will, listen. Benjamin wanted me to do a follow-up story on you—”
“Fuck.” Anger spikes my blood pressure, and a headache begins brewing at the base of my skull. The bedroom starts to close in on me, each breath getting harder and harder to take. I gulp but can’t fill my lungs. “I need air.”
I step from the room, hastily make my way down the hall and open the back patio door. Outside, I lean over the railing and work to sort things through as I glance at the pool and the stirred-up ocean beyond. The sight is fitting, really, matching the state of my stomach.
Khloe worked for Starlight?
Wait, how do I know she doesn’t still work for them? I briefly close my eyes and go over everything that happened between us since the second she arrived on Granddad’s plane, sick with the flu.
“Will...” Her soft, tentative voice has me spinning around. “I wanted to tell you, but—”
“Why should I believe anything you say? How do I know you’re not just telling me that to get me to trust you?”
“I guess...” She stops and shrugs, like she’s working hard to come up with an explanation that’s believable. “Maybe because of the time we spent together.”
“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?” I stare at her, my gaze moving over her face. “Why did you go see
Granddad? After all these years, why did you suddenly pay him a visit?” I can’t ask Granddad myself since he’s yet to call me back. My stomach coils, and my shoulders are so tight the strain goes up through my neck. Khloe moves toward me again, and I hold my hand up to stop her.
“I went to see James because my boss wanted me to do a story on you.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, the tumblers all falling into place. “And you needed to find out where I was and what I was doing. I keep my private life private, my whereabouts mostly unknown, but you used your connections to get the inside scoop. Wow, I didn’t see that coming.”
