15. Douchebaggery
FIFTEEN
douchebaggery
J:
Duuuuuude
J:
Brah!
J:
You shoulda hung out
J:
epic party
It’s 3am asshole
Go to sleep
J:
Loosen up, bro.
J:
Have some fun for a change
gnight
J:
bruh
Jacob’s 3 a.m. wake-up call feels more like a wake-up kick in the head. He just had to text me about some stupid party I didn’t go to.
Of course, I had the volume all the way up on my phone in case Bree needed me during the night. Her panic attack and subsequent conversation with Char left her a nervous wreck. What’s worse is she was in her room when she found the letter. She was too freaked out to be alone and too keyed up to sleep. We spent the evening together—something we haven’t done in a while. So I missed the party Jacob is so hot about.
Not that I would have gone to a party with him even without the letter incident. That was never going to happen. I already told him I was taking Brianna on a day hike to the sign. I stopped by earlier in the day to give him a rent check, but he kept me there far too long, going on and on about the epic party and trying to convince me to go.
I had more important things to do, obviously.
Brianna felt safe enough to go to bed around one in the morning. We agreed to keep our phones close, with the volume up, just in case one of us needed to check in on the other. It was an unspoken agreement we wouldn’t sleep in the same room, even though she might have felt safer if we had. Neither one of us brought it up, so the phones became our solution.
Just my luck that Jacob decided to display his douchebaggery a few hours in. And even more awesome that I can’t fall back to sleep after being jolted awake by the texts pinging constantly .
So I put the insomnia to good use and come up with a plan of action for the day.
“Did you tell Char we’re almost there?” I ask Brianna as we pull into the parking lot at her office building. We’re returning to the scene of the crime, where the letter was originally delivered. I have a few questions for the ice queen herself: receptionist Rachel.
“Yeah, she’s ready. All the files have been pulled up on her laptop. Do you think this will work?”
“If not, I have a backup plan.” I reach over and grab her hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll solve this, okay?”
Brianna looks at me. Gratefulness mixed with hope fills her eyes. It’s a new look for her—one I want to see more of, all the time. That’s the goal anyway. That’s the entire point of everything I’m about to get myself into.
We exit the car, and I swing around to once again take Bree by the hand. She seems a little more confident, a little less worried. The elevator ride up is quiet, but not the stilted quiet I’ve been used to. This quiet is determination.
Once the elevator opens, Brianna leads the way. She practically pulls me with her. Taking action seems to have given her strength. Which makes me swallow my breath again. The end of her fears might mean the end of me. After all, that’s the entire reason she came looking for me in the first place. Protection.
If there’s nothing to protect her from, she won’t need me anymore.
“Good morning, Rachel.” Brianna’s voice sounds more confident than I’ve heard before .
“Ms. Royce, you’re in awfully early this morning.” Rachel sounds suspicious. I would be too if I were in her shoes. Her boss has some attitude today. She should be worried.
“I believe Mr. Marin has some questions for you.” Brianna says with professionalism, then she looks over her shoulder at me as she steps down the hall toward Char’s office. “Come find me when you’re finished.”
“Sure thing, Bree,” I call to her with a little salute, never taking my eyes off Rachel. She’s scowling already. This should be fun.
“What do you want?’ Her voice drips with disgust.
“Tell me about all the mail you gave to Brianna yesterday.” It’s a demand, not a request.
“What about it? It came in. The queen was too busy to look over it for a few days, so it piled up. If I hadn’t forced it into her hands last night, it would still be sitting here this morning.” Her eyes shift from mine as she focuses back on her computer screen.
“Did you notice when the beige envelope with no return address was delivered?” I know it’s a long shot, but I might as well ask.
“Of course not. I don’t catalogue every piece of snail mail that comes through. I have more important things to do with my time.”
Figures. She’s in for a little surprise.
“Actually, that has now become your first priority. To catalogue any and all personal mail delivered to Ms. Royce here at the office. Keep track of who delivers it, when it comes in, the postmark date, and any other markings that can be seen.” I’m leaning over her desk and glancing around for anything else I should ask about.
Rachel scoffs and waves her hand in my face to back me away from her side of the desk. “Absolutely not. Who the hell are you to tell me what to do, douchebag? I find it hard to believe a pop star would put some random nobody boyfriend in any position to give me orders. I don’t answer to you.”
And now to go in for the kill.
I cross my arms and glare at her—as professionally as possible, of course. “I’m the person making sure your boss doesn’t meet an untimely end at the hands of a psychopath, and I find it incredibly hard to believe her employee would scoff at such a simple request to keep an eye out for suspicious mail. Especially if it ensures her boss’s safety.”
Who’s the douchebag now, hmm?
Rachel holds my glare for exactly fifteen seconds. I count it off. Then she looks back at her computer and mutters under her breath, “Whatever.”
“Perfect. I’ll be checking in with you every few days. And for God’s sake, if another freaking personal letter comes through, don’t give it to Brianna. Give it to me.” If that’s the only positive action to come out of this conversation, fine. I’d rather be the one to open a letter like the last one anyway.
I walk away from Rachel without another word and make my way back to Char’s office. She has a corner office close to the lounge area—one with a fantastic view of the Hills.
As I look through the bank of windows, it’s hard to believe only yesterday I found Bree sprawled on this couch, gazing at the sign. Only yesterday we were up on that hill looking out over everything and learning more about each other. Only yesterday I had her lips on mine, and it felt almost real for both of us.
One day, maybe it will be real, without all the pressure.
I shake the thoughts away as I enter Char’s office, needing to concentrate on the present. Papers are ordered in neat piles on her desk, and Brianna’s leaning over Char’s shoulder. Both are focused on reading through a lengthy document.
“Hey. Find anything useful?” I ask as I take a seat.
“Not yet. Logan’s contract doesn’t mention anything about holding onto personal property, handing over any type of paperwork once the contract is null, or his right to refuse information. But I’m still trying to find the attack-dog loophole.”
Char has a highlighter on the ready for anything we can use to get Logan to talk. “I really think this is a lost cause,” she says. “I mean, I can call him, but you know Logan ... he’s a jack-hole. He won’t give us those other letters, especially if he knows he’s got some leverage over you by keeping them.” Char puts the contract down and starts rubbing her temples.
I grunt. We knew going to Logan would be a pain. In my five-minute encounter with the guy, I could tell he liked to use whatever power he had as intimidation. But I’ve got a secret weapon, and I’m ready to use it.
“Listen, I’ve got this covered. If Logan still has those first letters, I’ll get them back. You two have some other things to work out.” I direct my eyes over to Char. “Back me up with the ice queen out there and set up a system for sorting any mail that comes through.”
I look back to Brianna, finding her simply glowing. She looks at me with such emotion, but I can’t decide if it’s about me or because she finally feels like there’s hope. Maybe both. Hopefully.
“Bree, I want you to schedule out every appearance you have for the next week. I’m planning to have backup with me anytime we’re in public.”
I sent a text to the law enforcement dad I knew from the dojo, and just as I finished up laying down the law with Rachel, he replied that he was willing to meet with me and help out. He’d keep things private and even had some ideas to share. That’s my next stop.
“So he’s in?” Brianna asks, sounding pleased.
“Who’s in?” Char looks between Bree and me. I haven’t told her about Clinton.
“I called in a favor. I have a connection to someone with ... connections, and I’m going to meet with him this afternoon to plan out a more extensive security detail for all public appearances.”
Both women look impressed.
“And I think he’s the attack-dog loophole we need right about now.”
Char raises her brows. “What the heck am I doing going cross-eyed reading this ridiculous contract then?” She stands up and rolls her neck, probably stiff from bending over and trying to decipher legalese for the past hour. “I’m so done with this. I hate everything associated with Logan.” She tosses the paper onto her desk. “Let’s get some coffee,” she says to Brianna.
“No. I want to go meet this guy who’s become our attack dog.” Brianna looks at me and winks. “I want all the weapons I can get.”
I wink back at her, feeling warm everywhere from the look she’s giving me. That’s my girl.
And right now, she feels as close to my girl as ever.
“Good. I really want you there to meet him. Clinton is a great guy, and he really wants to help us out.”
“Us?” she says with a little smirk. It might be the first one I’ve ever seen on her face. I really like it. “I guess we’ve truly become an ‘us,’ haven’t we?”
Playfully, I wrap one arm around her, cinching her waist with my fingers and pulling her hip flush with mine. “You bet we have. An unstoppable team.” I give her one more wink. “Now get that schedule started so we can plan things with Clinton.”
“Don’t forget to add the VIP video debut on the seventh,” Char adds. “The one that radio station put out as a biggest-fan contest.”
“Who authorized that?” I try to keep the frustration out of my voice, but with a crazy fan running around, the last thing we need is a fan event to deal with.
“It’s part of our promotion deal. I refused the meet-and-greet portion, but this is less than thirty people, so it’s totally doable. Calm down, cowboy. I thought you two were now this unstoppable team. Don’t tell me a minor fan showing of ‘Rescue Me’ is going to ruin everything.” Char smirks.
“I don’t like it, but fine. I’ll work out the details with Clinton if you can get me the logistics.”
“On it.” Char returns to her seat and starts clicking through her computer.
Brianna remains standing hip-to-hip with me as I lean against the desk, her arm snaked around my back. Then her head dips just slightly, enough to rest on my shoulder. And I don’t want to move an inch.