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“Oh. Well, shit. That’s disappointing.”
Tell me about it. Her being a reporter meant I had to stay away from her, not just now, but forever. Between my job and the fact that my father was a senator, the last person I could afford to have any kind of association with was someone with the press.
But, damn, I wanted to associate all over her. She was so beautiful, big blue eyes, and that tight little body—fuck. I worked out hard every day, but it wouldn’t surprise me if Lois Lane had a lower percentage of body fat than I did.
Apart from her looks, I loved how she pushed right back at me, got in my face about the stupid salad that I never ate anyway. Whenever I thought about it, I felt like an asshole.
And earlier today, when I told her she couldn’t be in the courthouse, she didn’t back down. There was something about her that said she never would.
“See ya tomorrow,” Hammer said as he exited the elevator a floor above where I’d parked.
I was thinking through everything I still had to do that afternoon as I stepped off on my floor. Something—someone—to my right caught my eye. The reporter. It looked like there was something up with her car.
“Need help?” I asked before I realized she was on the phone. Her eyes met mine, and she held up a finger. Not that finger, even though I might’ve deserved it, given how I’d treated her since we met.
“I’m on hold with roadside assistance,” she told me.
“What’s the problem?”
“It won’t start. Probably the battery.”
“I’ll pull my car around and give it a jump.”
“That’s okay. I’m sure they’ll be here—” She put her finger in her ear to block out the noise of the cars leaving the structure. “I’m sorry, what did you say? It sounded like you said it would be three hours.” She rested against her car and then looked down at her white blouse that was now dirty. “Oh, you did say three hours? Well, okay.” She hit disconnect on her phone and looked over at me. “I guess things are a lot busier around here than they are in Sunnyville.”
“Sunnyville?”
“Where I’m from. It’s a small town in California.”
“Right. Okay, well, let me see if I can get it started.”
“Thanks…” Her voice trailed off while she studied something on her phone.
“Everything okay?”
She opened her mouth like she was going to respond and then snapped it closed. The smile she gave me was freakishly fake. “Everything is fine.”
I walked to my car, took off my jacket, and hung it in the back seat. Before I started it up, I checked the news feeds to see if there was something going on that had caused her reaction. The first headline jumped out at me.
CIA to Make Deal with China Spy
What the fuck? Who in the hell? I checked the byline. Associated fucking Press. I scrolled through my contacts and hit the button to call Stella.
“Cope, I was just?—”
“Save it. You wanna tell me where you get off, reporting anything about this trial, let alone that there’s a deal in the works? Who’s your source, Stella?”
“Whoa, you better back way the fuck up, Cope. You’re jumping to too many conclusions for me to even continue this conversation.”
“AP byline, Stella. I saw you and one other reporter at the courthouse today.”
“Like I said, Cope, fuck of a lot of assumptions.”
When she ended the call, I threw my phone on the seat, ready to peel out of the parking lot. Fortunately, I remembered Ali and her dead battery before I did. Forgetting her would’ve only confirmed I was the asshole she already believed I was.
“You saw it,” she said when I got out after pulling my car beside hers.
“Yeah, I saw it.” I expected her to defend Stella, but she didn’t.
