Chapter 29
“Didn’t think you were going to let me in there for a second,” Gabe says, reaching the second-floor landing of my condo building.
He stands in the hallway with his arms crossed, waiting for me to let him inside or tell him to hand over whatever he came to drop off and leave.
It’s been over two weeks since I left him and Daphne outside the office, and we haven’t spoken since.
The longer we went without patching things up, the worse I felt.
Still, every time I considered picking up the phone, I didn’t.
I’ve spent the whole time trying to process everything that’s happened over the last six weeks. A conversation with Gabe meant coming clean about Chase’s involvement, and I didn’t want to add one more thing to the pile of things to deal with right now.
“I considered it,” I say, chewing on my bottom lip.
“Can I come in? I think we need to talk.”
Looks like that pile is about to get one problem bigger. With a sigh, I step to the side, letting him cross the threshold.
“Going somewhere?” Gabe asks, motioning to the packed bag on the couch.
Zipping the suitcase, I shuffle it under the dining table. “New York. I, uh…I have an interview.”
“With who?”
This is so fucking awkward. Things have never been this way between the two of us. Gabe has never been afraid to say what’s on his mind, regardless of whether it was appropriate or not, and I’ve always admired him for it. Why is he holding back now? He sure as hell didn’t a few weeks ago.
“Is it—”
“Stop! Just stop,” I interrupt him, turning to face him again. He’s never looked more uncomfortable, standing in the center of my condo with his hands shoved into the pockets of his white trousers. “This is not us, Gabe. We don’t skirt around shit, we don’t…We’re better friends than this.”
Gabe sits on the edge of my couch and cards a hand through his perfectly styled hair, messing it up slightly, before he flattens it back down. “I’m sorry.” He sighs. “God, Sloane, I’m so sorry. I was such a dick the other day. You told us that you’d broken up with Wolf—”
“Technically, he broke up with me,” I say, sitting on the other end of the couch, and I look over at my friend with a subtle grin.
Gabe laughs, and the hearty sound soothes some of the ache in my chest.
“You have nothing to apologize for. Everything you said was true. I knew what I was doing, I knew the risk I was taking by not telling him, and…I did it anyway. Funny enough, I planned on telling him everything that night when we got back from the party. Guess the universe had other plans.”
“What happened?”
Pulling my feet up from the floor, I rest my chin on top of my knees. “I went looking for Amos. I wanted to give him the article before it got submitted.”
“You told him?”
I shrug. “I wanted him to know what was coming. So, I gave him both articles.”
Gabe’s eyes practically bug out of the sockets. “Both? What do you mean by both? I thought you weren’t writing the other—”
“I did.”
“But the one they printed said—”
“You have no idea.” I laugh and bite down on my bottom lip.
He can’t possibly fathom all the information we found in those records, starting with Amos Rafferty’s secret son.
Who, it turns out, graduated from Boston College with a degree in finance before he became a financial manager at a tech company in Indianapolis.
Callum has kept a low profile most of his life, but he wasn’t hard to find.
Turns out there aren’t many people named Callum Rafferty on the planet.
“Gabe, I have to tell you something. I know it was wrong to involve him, but I asked Chase—”
“I know,” he says.
“What?”
“He told me on Tuesday night, before the article came out.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I say.
“I get it.” He shrugs. “I probably wouldn’t have told me either.”
“You can be mad at me, but please don’t be mad at Chase. He wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want anyone to know what I was doing. Just in case Ben asked, I didn’t want anyone to have to lie. Chase and Troy were the only ones who knew what was going on.”
“I’m sorry, it sounded like you just said Troy.” Gabe scoffs, but I don’t deny it. “Troy? As in Troy Prescott? The man you took this story from?”
“Troy Addison, actually,” I say, and laugh when his eyes widen even further. “It’s a long story. One that I will tell you the next time we’re with Daph, but only if you promise not to open your big mouth and tell everyone.”
“Hold on, I have her on speed dial. I’m sure she could drop the kids off somewhere for an hour.”
“Gabe!” I shove his arm, and we fall into a fit of laughter.
“Are you doing okay, though?” he asks once things settle down again. “I’ve been worried about you.”
“Yeah, I’ll be okay.” I offer him a soft smile. “I miss him.” The words draw tears to my eyes. It’s the first time I’ve said them out loud since I walked out of the hotel in Houston. Before now, I didn’t think I was allowed to miss him.
“You’re allowed to,” Gabe says, echoing my exact thoughts. He gives my knee a gentle squeeze. “I know this all started as a story, but I also know that’s not why you stuck around. You could’ve left anytime after you got what you needed, but you didn’t.”
The knot in my throat swells, but I force it back down. “I love him, Gabe.”
“I know.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders and plants a friendly kiss on the top of my head. “Do you know if he’s read it?”
I shrug. “I doubt he will.”
“Something tells me Savannah and Rae will make sure he does, and if not them, Lexi will definitely shove it in his face.” The thought makes me laugh.
I ignored Lexi for the first week after I left Houston, but she made it impossible to continue to do so when she showed up on my doorstep last week. “You should call him, Sloane.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I do. Once he reads the article—”
“Gabe—” I’m interrupted by my phone ringing on the coffee table. Savannah Brooks flashes across the screen. “Savannah?” I ask, but don’t answer it. Why is she calling?
“Answer it,” Gabe says, and demands I put it on speaker so he can hear everything.
My thumb hovers over the button, but I hesitate. Surely there wasn’t anything in the article that upset her. What could she possibly be calling me for?
“Sloane.” Gabe snaps me out of my thoughts. “Answer the phone.”
It goes to voicemail before I can, but I immediately call her back before I can talk myself out of it.
“Are you busy this weekend?” she asks, not bothering with formalities or niceties. Her directness makes me laugh. “I want you to come to Beachbash, hang out with Rae and me.”
“You…what? Savannah, I can’t come to Beachbash. Ben is—”
“You’re not coming for him.” She scoffs, and I can imagine the eye roll that follows.
“Just because you broke up doesn’t mean you’re permanently banned from shows now, Sloane.
You’re coming as my guest. I can even make sure you never see him if that’s what you want, but something tells me it’s not. ”
“It’s supposed to be his night.” I sigh, rubbing the space between my brows. “I don’t want to ruin it for him.”
“He’s going to be locked up in his bus all night.” Brooks’s voice comes through the line this time. “He won’t even know you’re there.”
“Are you telling me he’s not hurt?” Gabe’s mouth falls open. “You lied to me!”
Closing my eyes, I shake my head with a sigh. I knew better than to let Gabe overhear this phone call.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he says when I glare at him. “We’re going to have a conversation about your lying, but right now, we need to discuss how, not even five minutes ago, you said you missed Wolf. This is your chance to do something about it.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Brooks says, and his wife laughs in agreement.
“Great, I’ll have a car pick you up on Sunday. Be ready by eleven,” Savannah says. “Oh! And if you don’t show up, Raelynn said she’ll send someone to kidnap you.” The call ends abruptly after that.
I groan. “Savannah.”
Gabe laughs. “You knew she wasn’t going to take no for an answer, Lolo.”
I mumble a quiet acknowledgment, falling back into my spot on the couch.
Savannah Brooks is nothing if not persistent, and she had her mind made up that I was coming to the show on Sunday, regardless of what I said.
“I’ll make myself scarce during his match.
Make sure he doesn’t see me. I don’t want to distract him or upset him before—”
“I doubt you’re going to distract him from beating down on Grady, considering how he’s not injured. Thanks for telling me, by the way.”
“I wasn’t allowed to. He didn’t even tell me until after it happened.”
Gabe’s eyes widen. “Shut up.”
“Amos and Noah wouldn’t let him. Had to make it believable for Grady, who has absolutely no idea that Wolf Bennett is his opponent on Sunday.”
“Oh, this is going to be good.” There’s a gleam in his eye I’ve never seen before when it came to talking about professional wrestling.
“I’m sorry, are you a wrestling fan now?” I ask.
Gabe shrugs. “Chase made me sit and watch a few episodes. I have to admit, it’s quite entertaining. More than I thought it would be. The guys aren’t so bad to look at, either. That Colin Ryker is a dreamboat, don’t you think? Oh, and Blair Logan, who Savannah is fighting on Sunday, she’s fabulous.”
My mouth falls open. Gabriel Hart has been watching professional wrestling…and he knows what he’s talking about. Are there pigs flying outside right now?
“Oh, while I’m thinking of it.” He reaches into his back pocket to pull out an envelope. “This came to the office for you today.”
I retrieve the stationery from his hands, and when I turn it over, my name is written in angular, sharp lettering across the front, followed by the office address.
Rafferty is in the top left corner. Amos?
I don’t know whether to be elated or scared that he sent me a letter now that the article has been published.
Surely, if he weren’t happy, he would’ve stopped it from going to print in the first place.
With a deep breath, I turn the envelope over and rip it open.
The same lettering is scribbled across the inside of a notecard, and I read it at least five times before handing it to Gabe.
Sloane—
I liked the other one better.
Call my friend Camille at The US Observer if you’re looking to do this full time.
AR
Well, this is going to make things a lot more complicated. I bite down on my thumbnail as the words continue to swirl around my head, and Gabe’s quiet gasp lets me know when he’s gotten to the second line.
I should be elated. Amos liked what I wrote.
He liked it so much that he offered me the name of a contact at one of the biggest newspapers in the country.
There’s no doubt in my mind I’d have a job tomorrow if I picked up the phone and called the number scrawled across the bottom, but there’s one problem…
“Are you going to call?” Gabe asks.
“I don’t know.”
“Sloane, you have to call! This is The Observer. Imagine what you’d get to—”
“Do you know where it’s based?” I ask, looking at him. “The Observer. Do you know where they’re based out of?”
“I assume they’re in New York or somewhere like that.”
I shake my head. “Tampa.”