Chapter 7 #2
I smile, surprised she remembers. “Oh, yes. That actually happened. I went on one date with her and didn’t want to go further.
Next thing I know, I’m receiving dozens of emails a day, handwritten letters mailed to the arena, surprise deliveries at my building—including a rather disturbing voodoo doll—and she once followed me across two states. ”
Harper winces. “Wow. So you stopped pursuing relationships after that?”
“You’d assume so, right?” I chuckle. “But nope. Tried a few more times before hitting pause. What about you? Are you dating anyone?” I ask before I can stop myself, the question burning on my lips.
At first, I think she’s going to hold back and skip to her next question. Then, she says, “I called it quits a while back. I’ve already dated all the unstable men New York has to offer.”
I lean forward slightly. “And you’re not interested in the rest of the world? Or the stable ones?”
She waves off the suggestion. “Nah. I have the worst dating history you can imagine. It’s better to put an end to it. For my own safety.”
“I’m not sure,” I say lightly. “Probably hard to compete with mine.”
She arches an eyebrow. “Wanna bet?”
“Well, I’ve got a stalker. That should give me a few points already.”
She nods. “True. But one of my exes followed me home after dates for ‘safety,’ which is kind of the same brand of crazy.”
“I dated one girl who started telling people we were engaged behind my back. After five dates.”
Her eyes widen. “Well, one of my exes had a whole secret family. Wife, kid, dog, house with a white picket fence—the works. I had no idea. I even went to his apartment a few times.”
My jaw drops a few inches. “No! Did you tell the wife?”
“Of course. She had to know.”
“You’re ruthless,” I say, struggling to hold in my laughter.
“He deserved it.”
I sit back, thinking over my other bad experiences.
“Well, I had a couple of cheaters, of course, but I’m sure you’ve had those too.
One moved into my apartment when I was on a streak of away games.
We were dating for barely a month. I gave her a key to water my plants, and when I came back, she had moved all her stuff in and redecorated. ”
She raises her eyebrows. “You’re joking!”
“I wish. Took me days to put everything back to how it was. And I had to change my locks, just in case she made copies of my keys.”
She shakes her head slowly. “Wow.”
“Do I win?”
“I don’t think so. One of my exes was a criminal and ended up in prison.”
My eyes widen, and I lean against my chair. “Okay, yeah. That takes the cake. What happened?”
“It’s a long story.” She darts her eyes to the side, then clears her throat and claps her hands together. “Well, I think I have everything I need. I might have some follow-up questions later, though, if that’s okay?”
“Sure. But you’re not printing any of those relationship debacles, right?” I ask, unable to hide the hint of concern in my voice.
She smiles. “I won’t. Don’t worry.”
Turning off the recorder, she starts gathering up her things. “Do you have a favorite picture you want me to use for the article? You probably have a media team I can reach out to. Right, Mr. Celebrity?”
I really wish I could deny that, but she’s right. “You know it. Give me your email, and I’ll have my PR team contact you.”
I give her my phone with the notes app open, and she types in her email.
“Thanks,” I say when she hands it back.
“No, thank you. I owe you one,” she says, picking up her tape recorder. “I was about to relapse.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I can’t exactly investigate while I’m here,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Remember when I said me being here was a minor setback? Well, it’s more of a probation thing, where I have to show my boss I can follow orders and keep myself out of trouble.”
“Why don’t they think you can follow orders?”
She pauses, then replies, “Because I didn’t.”
“That’ll do it,” I say with a chuckle.
“But it was a big case! I dug up all the details, and we uncovered one of the biggest scandals of the century. Have you heard of the HelixCare scandal? I was the one who discovered they were running a fake medical trial.”
“Oh, wow, that was you?” I remember when the story released a few weeks ago. It was huge.
“Yeah. We were spinning in place, couldn’t find the proof we needed to expose them, so I passed as a volunteer in the study—against my boss’s orders. Anyway, that’s why I’m here.”
“Pretty impressive. Well, I’m glad I could be a distraction. My life isn’t exactly riveting compared to what you’re used to, but better than nothing, right?”
“Yep.” A grin pulls at her lips.
We get up and exit the room, Harper carrying her bag of Twix.
“I’m heading out,” I say. “Where are you off to?”
“Back to my room. I have to call my grandma.”
I walk her back to the elevator, and she turns to me with a sparkle in her eye.
“Thanks again,” she says. “I guess I’ll see you at the game on Monday.”
I cock my head. “You’re not coming to the parade tomorrow?”
“Oh, right. Yes, of course I am. But you’ll be literally parading through a sea of thousands of people chanting your name, so we won’t exactly see each other, Mr. Celebrity.” She winks.
“Touché,” I say. She’ll never let me live that name down. “See you around, then.”
The elevator pings, and as I turn around and cross the lobby, I feel…
lighter. The interview wasn’t that bad after all, and neither is this girl.
But suddenly, I kind of wish I could flip the script.
Put her in the hot seat. Ask the questions.
Figure out what she’s hiding behind that sharp tongue and those watchful eyes.
Harper is a puzzle, one that I suddenly want desperately to solve.