Chapter 15 #3
“For Hartwell,” I clarified. “Temporarily. She’s useful on the summaries, and I want her where I can make use of her quickly.” I experienced immediate regret for my choice of words.
Benjamin opened his mouth. I looked at him and he closed it.
Dana was less merciful. “That sentence did not help you.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“She reports to me,” Dana asserted again.
“Yes.”
“Her compensation, reviews, role, and probationary assessment go through me and Ben.”
“Yes.”
“If you want her near Hartwell, you ask me for her time like you would any other operations support.”
That stung more than I expected, which told me it was necessary.
“Fine,” I acquiesced to her wisdom.
Benjamin blinked. “That was dangerously mature.”
Dana nodded once, satisfied. “Good. Then go.”
I looked toward the elevators. My phone was in my hand before I fully decided to pick it up and I texted her.
Me: Are you home?
Her reply came quickly enough that my chest tightened.
Avery: Yes. I ate something, before you ask.
Another message followed.
Avery: It was not a balanced meal, but it had protein if cheese counts.
Despite everything, I smiled.
Me: Cheese counts tonight. Lock your door.
Avery: Bossy.
Me: Yes.
Avery: Have a safe trip.
Me: I’ll call you when I get there if it isn’t too late.
Her reply came after a longer pause.
Avery: Okay.
Then…
Avery: Callum?
Me: Yes?
Avery: I’m glad you sent me home.
I read that twice. Then the next message came a second later.
Avery: I’m also annoyed about it.
I laughed quietly.
Benjamin, watching me, said, “I assume from your expression that Ms. Hale has said something inconveniently charming.”
“Go to hell.”
“Already scheduled. Monday at ten.”
I typed back.
Me: Both reactions are acceptable.
Avery: Very generous.
Me: Sleep, young lady.
This time, her reply took almost a full minute.
Avery: Yes, sir.
I set the phone face down before I did something stupid like cancel my trip.
Benjamin stood. “Car is downstairs.”
Dana picked up her mug. “Try not to destroy Lang before breakfast. I’d like to sleep in.”
“I make no promises.”
“Make two,” Benjamin said. “No public murder. No unscheduled phone calls to Avery that last three hours and end with you making worse decisions from another city.”
I looked at him blankly.
“I know you. Distance makes you broody. Broody makes you poetic. Poetic makes you reckless.”
Dana nodded. “He’s not wrong.”
“You’re both disconcertingly comfortable talking to me like this.”
“You keep earning it,” Dana replied.
I took my coat from the back of Benjamin’s chair and shrugged into it. “Keep the photos contained. Find the source. If it leaks, I want to know before the first reporter finishes typing the subject line.”
“Already done,” Benjamin said. “I have alerts on the newsletter, the major papers, three minor papers, six political blogs, two development forums, and one anonymous account that uses too many building emojis to be innocent.”
“Building emojis?”
“Do not ask. It will only darken your evening.”
I nodded, because sometimes that’s all one can do when confronted with Benjamin, then turned toward the elevators.
“Callum,” Dana said quietly.
I stopped and looked back at her. Her face was inscrutable, telling me without words that she was about to say something she did not enjoy feeling. “She’s not just a liability.”
“I know that.”
“Good. Don’t let the crisis make you treat her like one.”
I held her gaze for a second. Then I nodded.
Benjamin walked me to the elevator. He pressed the down button and stood beside me in the quiet.
For once, he did not speak immediately. The doors opened and I stepped inside, then turned back.
He stood in the hall, tablet tucked under one arm, tie perfectly straight, face tight with all the worries he had decided to carry because he cared too much to put them down.
“You’re really with me?” I asked.
He looked offended. “Unfortunately.”
“Why?”
He sighed. “Because someone has to be.”
The doors began to close.
Then his hand shot out, stopping them.
“And because,” he added, voice dry as ash, “for all the catastrophic optics, ethical landmines, sentimental obligations, and potential legal exposure, one does not say no to Avery Hale looking at him like that unless one is dead, and you are many things, Callum, but dead is apparently no longer one of them.”
The doors slid shut before I could answer.
My phone buzzed once more before I reached the lobby.
Avery: I’m in my pjs now.
I looked at the message until the elevator opened.
Then I typed back.
Me: Good girl.
I should not have sent it.
I sent it anyway.
By the time I stepped into the lobby, the scandal was no longer theoretical. There were photos, enemies, witnesses, and a woman upstairs in a small apartment with a locked door and my name glowing on her phone.
The company was at risk.
My reputation was at risk.
Avery was at risk, which mattered the most.
And still, as I walked out to the waiting car and the driver opened the door, I understood the most dangerous truth of all.
I was not trying to stop anymore.
I was only trying to make sure that when the whole thing caught fire, I was standing close enough to shield her from the worst of the heat.