Chapter 29
BECCA
It’s been two days since Nate asked me to be his girlfriend. Under normal circumstances, I should have been celebrating and replaying every look, text, and word spoken, and not glued to my laptop, digging through old stories, and trying to find a way to stop his ex-agent.
Thankfully, last night, we were able to take a break from all the chaos. And with his sister coming into town later, we needed a night together to do something normal.
“You know,” Nate said, tugging on his sneakers. “When you stayed at my place, I gave up my side of the bed. It would have been nice if you would have returned the favor.”
“I guess I’m not as nice as you,” I said, sipping my coffee. “And at least I didn’t steal your blanket.” I leaned against the kitchen counter; the mug in my hands was warm as the morning sunlight spilled through the windows.
Nate stood across from me, attempting and failing to tame his messy hair. “I’m still trying to figure out how such a small person like you can take up so much bed space.”
I narrowed my eyes over the rim of my mug. “Remind me never to invite you over again.”
Last night, Nate saw my condo for the first time.
I wanted a quiet night in. I also wanted to prove to him that I could actually cook.
We laughed while we ate my favorite chicken marsala recipe, played Rummikub to pass the time, and lay in bed talking for hours.
No pressure. No drama. Just two people hanging out.
With everything going on lately, we needed that more than anything.
He stretched his arms out and yawned. “I can’t remember the last time I slept on a queen-sized bed.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re starting to sound like a bed snob.”
He shrugged. “I’m a big boy. Your bed feels tiny compared to mine.”
I smiled despite myself. “Wow. You really know how to make a girl feel special.”
His laugh was full and warm as he gazed around my open-concept kitchen/living room. “Seriously, though. I’m glad I finally got to see your place. Although those books on your shelf are a little intimidating.”
I glanced at the white shelf, tucked away in the far end of the room.
“They are romance books. What’s so intimidating about them?”
“Well, first of all, those sex scenes are unbelievable, and you can tell they are written by a woman because men don’t talk like that.”
“Hush.” I shoved his arm playfully. “You’re being annoying.”
He crossed his arms. “And pretty sure if I ever grabbed you by the throat and told you to crawl to me, you would kick me in the balls.” His expression was smug.
I threw my head back and laughed. “That’s why they are called fiction.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Do women really like that stuff?”
I shrugged, feeling heat crawl up the back of my neck. “Obviously, some do.”
He rounded the kitchen island and drifted his hand lazily up and down my arm. “Maybe you can show me later what you really like in the bedroom.”
I stared at him. “Is Nate Sandler standing in my kitchen, asking me to give him pointers on how to please a woman? I never pegged you as someone who needed to be coached.”
His gaze dropped to my mouth. “I’m always eager to learn and discover something new.”
“You’re serious?” I asked, setting my coffee cup down with a little too much excitement.
He pulled me in by the waist. “Just trying to understand the appeal. If there’s something I can do to make you feel good, I’m on board for learning new tricks.”
Most men never would have admitted that, but Nate had confidence in spades. And I think he knew that he had nothing to worry about when it came to his bedroom skills.
“Trust me, the men in those books have nothing on you.”
His fingers brushed lightly against my hip. “That’s because I’m a real man who knows how to take care of his woman.” His hand slipped to the back of my neck. “But you can still show me a few things.”
Before I could think of a good comeback, his mouth was on mine.
The kiss was slow and lazy. There was no rush.
No urgency. Just two people who wanted to shut out the world and get lost in the moment.
Our tongues tangled together in satisfied strokes while our hearts beat in sync.
I melted into his warm, solid chest, feeling safe and content, wishing we could stay here a little bit longer and block out the rest of the world.
Nate’s hands slid from my face to my shoulders, and then down my arms. He pulled back to meet my eyes. “I wish I didn’t have to leave.”
“Me too.” I brushed my fingers against his jaw.
Eventually, he walked over and grabbed the white hoodie that he had tossed over my chair when he showed up last night.
He pulled something out of the pocket and held it up.
I laughed at the ridiculous keychain I bought as a joke, thinking he would never use it.
“I can’t believe you kept that.” I busted out laughing.
“Kept it?” He held up the silly little woodpecker keychain. “It’s my lucky charm.”
“You made fun of it.”
“I make fun of a lot of things.” He spun it around his fingers. “I guess it’s grown on me.”
I couldn’t believe that not only did he keep it, but he carried it around where anyone could see it. All because it came from me.
He grabbed his duffel bag beside the door. “Practice runs until six. Are you sure you don’t mind picking Callie up from the airport?”
“I already told you I don’t mind.”
Callie was flying in for the game this weekend. The timing couldn’t be worse, but she bought her plane ticket weeks ago, and Nate was looking forward to seeing her.
I walked over to the door to kiss him goodbye. The kiss was slow and sleepy, and my condo was going to feel way too quiet and empty when he left.
“I’ll see you tonight.” He pressed one last kiss to my forehead. “And don’t forget to pick up my sister.”
I shut the door behind him and leaned against it. Now that I had time to reset my brain, it was time to get back to work.
I walked back into the kitchen to refill my coffee mug and brought my laptop over to my desk.
The second my eyes started poring over my notes, the warmth from earlier started to fade.
I grabbed my phone and pulled up Stephanie Willows’ contact.
She was the first reporter I reached out to.
When I told her I was looking into some past interactions with Brian, she didn’t sound surprised. In fact, she sounded relieved.
I stared at the phone for a minute before clicking on her number.
She picked up almost immediately. “Hey, Becca.”
“Hi, Stephanie.” I tucked my feet underneath my chair. “Thanks for agreeing to talk to me.”
“Of course,” she said slowly, like she was trying to ease herself into this conversation. “You mentioned that you were doing an investigative piece on Brian Sullivan. What exactly are you looking for?”
I took a sip of my coffee. “Right now, I’m just gathering information.”
She exhaled. “I know we agreed to this conversation, and I’m not backing out.
I just don’t want this to blow up and then have it come back on me.
He has connections and represents some big names.
It would be his word against mine. And technically, he didn’t do anything other than make me uncomfortable. ”
I chewed on my bottom lip, trying to think of a way to make her feel comfortable enough to talk to me.
“I understand your position completely. I promise, I’m not going to twist any of your words around.
I just need to know what happened last February and show there’s a pattern with Brian’s behavior. So, start whenever you’re ready.”
“Okay. I wasn’t planning on making a big deal out of it, but the more I thought it over, I realized if some of the other rumors about him were true, then I couldn’t stay silent for much longer.”
Right, because we were told to look the other way and not make a fuss. Remain professional and never encourage inappropriate behavior.
“I understand. No one wants to be that person, but it’s never okay for someone to shame us for that or brush our concerns aside.”
She laughed. “Of course, you get it. I think we’ve all been there at some point. Okay, so last February…”
Stephanie and I talked for almost an hour. When the call wrapped up, I sat there staring at my laptop. She confirmed exactly what I had been starting to piece together.
Brian had a reputation for making women feel uncomfortable.
He was pushy, dropped his clients’ names to get what he wanted, and sometimes crossed a line.
What made it worse was that people looked the other way because of who he was.
And the manipulation didn’t stop at female reporters.
His clients trusted him. And the more I dug, the uglier it got. This was worse than I thought.
Now, I understood Stephanie’s hesitation. If you were going to make an accusation as strong as this, you needed proof, and I wasn’t going to stop until I got it.
I rubbed a hand over my face before reaching for my phone again.
My thumb hovered over the next person on my list. It was amazing how once one story started, the rest just kept on coming.
I straightened up in my seat and hit call.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Julie. It’s Becca Hendrix. I appreciate you making the time to talk with me today.”
“Thanks for picking me up at the airport,” Callie said, rolling her suitcase into Nate’s living room and setting it off to the side.
“Of course,” I said, juggling my keys and the grocery bag digging into my wrist. “I stopped by the store earlier and picked up a few snacks.” I held up the bag. “Your brother is in the middle of the season, so I figured you might want something other than protein bars and grilled chicken to eat.”
She laughed while following me into the kitchen. “You didn’t have to do all that.”
I set the bag on the counter. “I needed to make it look like an actual person lived here,” I said, as she watched me unload the chips, salsa, cookies, and wine.
She leaned against the counter, staring at all the food that would be on her brother’s “non-approved list.”