“That’s good. And I’m sure he’s fine. One of us would’ve heard if he wasn’t.”
I liked her logic. Gave me a minor heart attack, but she was right.
“Yes, of course. What can I do for you, Erin?”
She paused, then took a breath, and something about the way she did made me brace for bad news.
“This isn’t the way I’d have liked us to meet, and I hope you don’t mind Mike giving me your number, but it’s very important I talk to you.”
I wondered how she’d got my number. It wasn’t listed anywhere public for obvious reasons. I should have been pissed at Mike for not checking with me first, but as it was Joz’s sister he’d given it to, I’d let this one slide. Still, it was worth a mention next time our path’s crossed, though.
“Okay, go on.”
Silence hung between us. I checked the line. Still connected. My heart pounded. I didn’t like this. Something was wrong.
“Erin? You there?”
A strangled sob sounded in my ear, then words spilled out, falling over each other in her haste to say her piece. “Oh, Aspen. I’ve made a horrible mistake. Horrible. He’ll never forgive me. He’ll hate me forever. Please, you have to help me.”
“Erin, breathe. It’s okay. Just take a moment.”
The only sounds that came over the line were ones of a young woman slap bang in the middle of a panic attack. What the hell could’ve happened for her to be this upset? And with a stranger, too.
“Are you alone?” I asked.
A squeaked “Yes” forced its way out through harsh breaths.
Fuck. “Listen to me, Erin. I want you to do something for me. Are you listening?”
Another pained “Yes” echoed in my ear.
“It’s called box breathing, and it should help regulate your breaths. Now, I want you to inhale slowly through your nose and count to four. Don’t speak. Just do that for me.” I counted in my head. “Right, now hold for a count of four.” One, two, three, four. “Now, purse your lips and slowly,slowly,breathe out for a count of four.” More counting. “Now hold for another count of four, then I want you to repeat that until you feel calmer. I’m right here on the end of the phone. I’m not going anywhere.”
A full two minutes passed, but gradually, the rapid gasps of breath slowed. Then, in a voice so quiet I had to stick one finger in my other ear to have a chance of hearing her, Erin said, “It’s my fault the diary got leaked.”
Ice stole into my veins, and my blood pressure sky rocketed, the sound of fluid rushing through my ears. “What?”
“Oh, God, Aspen. What do I do? He will never forgive me. He’ll hate me.”
“He won’t hate you.”
“He will, and I deserve it, too. I’ve been so stupid. So,sostupid.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Erin, why don’t you tell me what happened from the very beginning. How is it your fault?”
“About a week ago, I met this guy. He seemed really nice, and he was so good looking.” She let out a bitter laugh. “What a cliché I am, huh? Anyway, we went on a couple of dates, and I told himwho my brother was. I don’t usually tell people because, well, then I worry they’re only interested in me because of who Joz is. Anyway, this guy told me he was a huge fan, but he didn’t make a big deal of it. Then, one night, after a few drinks, he quietly slid in that he’d love to take a peek inside Joz’s apartment. You know, see where the great man lives. I should’ve smelt a rat then, but I just liked him so much.”
“Go on,” I encouraged when she stopped talking, although I had a feeling I already knew how this would end.
“Stupidly, I agreed. Joz was in America with you, so I used the key he told me was for emergencies only, and I took this guy there. The next morning, I woke up in the guest room, and he’d gone. I was hurt but, hey, it’s not the first time I’ve been played. Joz is always telling me I’m too trusting.” She heaved a sigh. “I hate myself.”
“And you think that it was then this guy stole Joz’s diary?” I knew it was, but telling Erin she’d been targeted by a journalist wouldn’t help calm her down and make her feel less shitty.
“Yeah. It had to be him. There’s no other way he could’ve got his hands on it. I didn’t even know it existed until I saw a news article right before I called you.”
“The story broke on Saturday,” I said.
“Yeah, but I don’t look at the news. Too depressing.”
