I’m about to answer when it hits me. This is the first conversation I’ve had with Dean that wasn’t hostile. I ask, wide-eyed, “Did I just lose my mind? Because I could swear you said you need me?”
Dean heaves a heavy, soul-shuddering sigh. “Yes, I did,” he mutters, staring down at the table.
Pretending like I’m hard of hearing, I cup my ear with my hand and say loudly, “I’m sorry. What was that?”
Another drawn-out sigh from Dean, this time with a side order of eye rolling. “I said I need help.”
Unable to resist making the most of this moment, I keep my hand to my ear. “Sorry, still couldn’t quite make that out.Whoexactly do you need help from?”
His narrow-eyed glare tells me I’m pushing my luck, but in the end Dean humors me. In a satisfyingly loud voice, he admits, “You. I need you, Jennifer.”
Even though I’m completely freaked out by that website and the idea of a stalker, seeing Dean’s obvious discomfort causes a grin to stretch over my face.
He needsmyhelp?
Oh, this is going to be fun.
6
Tuesday, December 10
14 days until the wedding
Jenny
Ifinish my interview with Marjorie and Caleb, going over their move to L.A. and the first few years when they went to audition after audition. They answer honestly, and I get a couple of unique stories I haven’t seen in articles before. Satisfaction expands my chest. Success!
It’s nearing 3:00 p.m. Marjorie rises from her seat. Caleb gives her a kiss on the cheek, a gesture that warms my heart, thinking back to when I first met them, how tense their relationship had been before Caleb went to rehab. Marjorie says good-bye and ducks out the back door. She’ll walk to her appointment since it’s a few blocks away. I hope the paparazzi won’t give her a hard time. They don’t usually harass her unless she’s with her megastar son.
My phone buzzes yet again with the word “Butthead” on the screen. Unable to avoid him any longer, I excuse myself and duck out into the narrow hallway, where I accept the call.
Eddie’s voice, nasal and high-pitched, comes onto the line. “It’s about time,” he says. No “good afternoon” or “how ya doing.” Nope. He skips straight past the pleasantries. “I’ve been calling you. You know, it’s not a great idea to ignore your supervisor.” He pauses, no doubt waiting for me to apologize.
Iwon’t.
He continues, ignoring that I haven’t spoken a word yet. “Just because we used to date doesn’t mean you get special treatment, Jenny.”
“I don’t expect that,” I protest, horrified by the idea. I’ve never asked for anything from him. Not when we were dating and definitely not after he dumped me.
“You have to keep me updated, like everyone else.”
“We already talked this morning,” I counter, exasperation shortening my words. I can’t believe I dated this douche.What was I thinking?“I even emailed you Caleb’s agenda for the day.”
“I saw it.” There’s the creak of a chair. I can picture him leaning back in that old, putrid green office chair he loves. The hum of the press room in L.A. comes over the phone line. I used to love that sound, the noise of reporters talking into phones and tapping at computer keys. I loved the smell there, ink and burnt popcorn and weather man Al’s cologne. For years, that place felt like home to me. I’d get a buzz of excitement whenever I stepped through the door.
Not now, though. After the disastrous relationship with Eddie and my inability to prove myself to the investigative team, I’ve started to dread going to the newsroom. I’ve found excuses to work remotely or go out on assignments. This New York trip has been a welcome distraction. A chance to escape all the mistakes I made back in L.A.
“Don’t you think it’s strange for Gwen to leave so close to the wedding?” Eddie asks.
I pull the phone away and glare at it, instantly defensive. Pressing it to my ear again, I tell him, “Caleb told her to go. He insisted.”
Gwen had spent months debating whether she should leave. We talked about it dozens of times as she listed the pros and cons.
Pros: Once in a lifetime opportunity to showcase the colon cancer research Gwen had spent the last four years working on. Research that was especially poignant to her since she lost her own dad to that dreadful disease. Gwen was on a mission to spare other families from what she’d endured. This conference would be instrumental in achieving her goal.
Cons: Missing out on wedding planning. Guilt over leaving wedding preparations to Marjorie and the rest of us.
“What should I do?” Gwen had asked, so conflicted she was losing precious sleep over the decision.
