Chapter Eleven
Piper
Piper had learned not to trust photographs.
Photographs cropped people out. Changed angles. Removed the second before and the second after. They turned arguments into embraces and ordinary conversations into secret meetings.
This photograph did not require much interpretation.
Owen sat at a corner table inside Vela, one of the most expensive restaurants in Ridgeview. A glass of bourbon rested near his hand. Across from him, Graham Pierce leaned forward with both forearms on the table.
They were not strangers who happened to recognize each other.
They were having a private conversation.
The timestamp at the bottom of the image read 9:18 p.m.
The night before the Wrong Guy Bet began.
Piper enlarged the photograph until the pixels blurred.
“Who took this?”
No one answered.
Emmett stood beside her at the dining table, his body so still that she could feel the anger coming off him.
Griffin took the laptop and inspected the email header.
“The sender used another temporary account.”
“Can we trace it?” Maren asked.
“Daniel’s team might.”
Piper opened the photograph’s information panel. The file had been stripped of location data and device details, but the timestamp remained.
Owen wore the same navy shirt he had been wearing in a story he posted that evening. Piper remembered because he had tagged the restaurant and written that difficult conversations required good bourbon.
She had assumed he was meeting a potential client.
Graham looked toward Emmett.
“Let me explain.”
Piper turned.
He had said almost nothing since the email arrived. Now he stood near the end of the table with his sunglasses folded in one hand, his polished agent expression finally beginning to crack.
Emmett faced him.
“You told me you had never spoken to Owen.”
Graham’s expression cooled. “I said I did not work with him.”
“That was not the question.”
“No.”
The single word sounded too much like Emmett.
Piper looked between them.
“How long have you known Owen?”
“I do not know him.”
“You had dinner with him.”
“We had one drink.”
“At a restaurant where sparkling water costs twelve dollars,” Piper said. “That is not a casual sidewalk conversation.”
Graham glanced toward the others.
“Could we speak privately?”
“No,” Piper said.
His attention returned to her.
“This concerns Emmett’s career.”
“It also concerns the man threatening my business.”
“Piper.”
Emmett’s voice was quiet.
She looked at him.
He did not tell her to leave. He did not offer to handle Graham alone. He simply held her gaze and let the choice remain hers.
“I am staying,” she said.
Emmett nodded.
Graham looked frustrated by the exchange.
That gave Piper a small amount of satisfaction.
“Sit,” Emmett said.
Graham remained standing.
Emmett’s expression changed.
Graham sat.
Everyone else stayed around the table. Tyler had stopped trying to turn the investigation into central command. Even Beckett was silent, though he had positioned himself beside a bowl of wrapped mints as if preparing for a long performance.
Piper placed the laptop in front of Graham.
“Start with why Owen contacted you.”
“He sent an email requesting a meeting.”
“When?”
“Three days before this photograph.”
“What did he say?”
“That he had information affecting Emmett’s professional prospects.”
Emmett folded his arms. “Why did you not tell me?”
“Because people send me claims about you constantly. Most want money, access, or attention.”
“So you met him without mentioning it.”
“I wanted to know what he had.”
“What did he have?” Piper asked.
Graham looked at her.
“Your messages.”
The room became colder.
“Which messages?”
“He showed me several conversations between you and Owen. You mentioned Emmett in them.”
Piper wrapped one arm around herself.
“How many?”
“I did not count.”
“Try.”
“Six or seven.”
Her stomach turned.
She remembered every time she had complained that Emmett noticed something Owen missed. The golf club dinner. The flat tire. The storm at the rental office. Emmett finding her alone after a sponsor meeting.
None of the messages had been romantic declarations.
Together, arranged by Owen, they could look like a pattern.
“What did Owen want?” Emmett asked.
Graham looked down at his sunglasses.
“He said Piper was planning to end the relationship.”
“I was not,” Piper said.
“Not then.”
“No.”
“He claimed the breakup was inevitable. He said Piper had developed feelings for you and would probably pursue you once she was single.”
Piper looked at Emmett.
His face remained unreadable, but his attention had sharpened.
“What did that have to do with my career?” he asked.
Graham breathed out.
“Owen knew clubs were concerned about your public image.”
“How?”
“I told him.”
Emmett went completely still.
Griffin muttered something beneath his breath.
Piper stared at Graham.
“You gave Owen private information about Emmett.”
“I confirmed information that was already circulating among professional organizations.”
“That is not the same as public information,” Emmett said.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because he offered a solution.”
Piper’s pulse began climbing.
“What solution?”
Graham looked at the photograph again.
“He suggested that after the breakup, you and Emmett could be seen together publicly. Nothing formal. A few appearances. Enough to change the conversation around both of you.”
“A fake relationship,” Piper said.
“He never used that phrase.”
“What phrase did he use?”
“Mutually useful visibility.”
Tyler made a disgusted sound.
Everyone turned toward him.
“What?” he asked. “That is worse than anything I have ever branded.”
For once, no one argued.
Piper looked back at Graham.
“Did you agree?”
“No.”
“Immediately?”
His hesitation answered.
Emmett stepped closer to the table.
“How long did you consider it?”
“I listened.”
“How long?”
“Twenty minutes.”
Piper laughed once.
The sound carried no humor.
“You sat across from my boyfriend while he discussed placing me with another man after a breakup I did not know he was planning.”
Graham’s expression tightened.
“I believed you were already ending the relationship.”
“Because Owen told you.”
“Yes.”
“And Owen is famously committed to complete truth.”
“I did not know enough about him.”
“You knew enough to meet in secret.”
“It was not secret.”
“The photograph came from an anonymous account.”
“That does not make the meeting secret.”
“You lied to Emmett about having it.”
Graham looked toward him.
“I did not want him reacting before I knew whether Owen had anything real.”
Emmett’s voice lowered.
“You decided what I needed to know.”
Piper felt the words.
So did Graham.
He looked at her, then back at Emmett.
“I was protecting your career.”
“That sentence is becoming extremely unpopular,” Piper said.
Graham removed his phone from his pocket.
“I kept the messages.”
“Why?” Emmett asked.
“Because the meeting concerned you.”
“That did not stop you from hiding it.”
“I thought Owen might try to create a story whether I cooperated or not.”
“Then why not warn us?” Piper asked.
“There was no us.”
Emmett’s look sharpened.
Graham corrected himself quickly.
“There was no relationship. Piper was still dating Owen, and you had given me no indication you planned to pursue her.”
“I was not planning to.”
“Exactly.”
“That does not explain the silence.”
Graham looked tired now.
Not guilty enough.
Just tired.
“I believed telling Emmett would encourage him to become involved.”
Piper stared.
“You knew he had feelings for me.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He requested information about transferring from Ridgeview.”
Emmett’s gaze dropped.
Graham continued. “He had never expressed interest in leaving before. Then he asked about schools several hours from Lake Briar and refused to explain why.”
“That did not prove anything,” Emmett said.
“No. Watching you stare at Piper during every summer event proved the rest.”
Beckett reached for a mint.
Griffin slapped his hand away without looking.
Graham turned the phone toward them.
“Owen sent me these after the meeting.”
A series of messages appeared.
She will be single before the end of the month.
Emmett will say yes if she asks.
You know the girlfriend angle fixes his problem.
I know how to make it happen without anyone looking responsible.
Piper’s skin turned cold.
Emmett read the messages twice.
“What did you say?”
Graham scrolled.
His response appeared beneath Owen’s final message.
Do not contact me again.
Piper looked at the timestamp.
10:02 p.m.
Forty-four minutes after the restaurant photograph.
“Why did you stay that long?” she asked.
“Owen showed me examples of Emmett’s online engagement. He had prepared projections.”
“Of course he had.”
“He also showed me possible professional offers that might become available if Emmett’s image changed.”
“Did you tell him which clubs were interested?” Emmett asked.
“No.”
“Did you tell him what they disliked?”
Graham hesitated.
“Yes.”
Emmett’s expression emptied.
Piper knew that look now.
The anger had gone somewhere deeper.
“You told him I was difficult to market,” Emmett said.
“I told him clubs misunderstood your privacy.”
“What exact words?”
Graham said nothing.
Emmett waited.
Finally, Graham answered.
“I said the right relationship could humanize you.”
Piper closed her eyes.
Humanize.
As if Emmett’s refusal to perform meant he needed a woman attached to him before anyone believed he was a person.
As if Piper could become evidence of his emotional functionality.
Emmett’s voice remained quiet.
“You are fired.”
Graham looked up sharply.
“Do not make this decision while angry.”
“I am not angry.”
Everyone in the room knew that was false.
Emmett continued.
“I am ending the agreement because you discussed Piper as a professional solution without her knowledge. You withheld a threat. You disclosed private information about my career. Then you tried to use the resulting situation after it became public.”
“I rejected the campaign.”
“You listened to it.”
“I was doing my job.”
“No. You were pricing someone who never agreed to be for sale.”
Piper looked at Emmett.
The words reached inside her before she could protect herself.
Graham stood.