The story mostly died out everywhere—except in Seattle.
Whoever the anonymous person was who wrote the article, he seemed to not be done. Each day he wrote a little bit more. I assumed it was a he. Not sure why, but it felt like a guy to me when I read it. However, each of the new posts was little more than rehashing what had already been said. Nothing new, no more accusations. Not enough to make the fires of hell bigger. Just enough to keep them smoldering.
Just enough that all of my scheduled photo sessions were canceled.
Just enough that my phone was blowing up with requests for massages and erotic photo shoots and endless interview requests.
Just enough that if things didn’t turn around in a month or two, money was going to be a real issue, and I would have to consider massage or erotic photography.
No. No. I couldn’t do massage again. Despite what Noah said, I knew it would hurt him. It would hurt me. The erotic photography was an option. That would be easier to stay professional.
Or I could get a job at Starbucks.
On day three, when Noah finally convinced me to go with him and the pups on a walk, I knew it wasn’t my imagination. Everyone was staring.
Well, maybe not everyone, but enough that even Noah had to concede it wasn’t all in my mind. People were definitely looking at me and talking.
That walk lasted about ten minutes before I couldn’t take it anymore and we came home.
Apparently those ten minutes were enough.
THIS TIMEI didn’t need a call from Kayla or a text from Noah. Thanks to my new self-flagellating addiction of trolling for new posts about Randall Morgan, I found the new article all on my own.
Only this one wasn’t entirely about me.
Though grainy, the picture of Noah and me walking the dogs from the night before was easily discernable.
My heart sank. I’d forgotten the possibility that Noah would get dragged into this thing. Though how I missed that eventuality was a mystery. I suspect it was my self-absorption.
I felt a bit better after reading the accompanying article. It had nothing derogatory about Noah. Nothing new about me either, just reiterating the same things Anonymous said before. It merely talked about who Noah was. At the end of the article, there was a still shot of him during a segment of the local news, trying to help a rather unfortunate-looking cat be adopted. It also went into Noah’s past as a missionary kid, and even offered speculation as to the two of us knowing each other when we were kids and Noah’s family was here on sabbatical.
Other than the repeated tidbits about me, the article was little more than a brief bio of Noah’s life. Nothing bad except that he was dating me.
Noah exited the bathroom, a towel around his waist after I finished reading it for a second time. “Hey, babe. Want me to make eggs, or are we going all out and doing waffles this morning?”
He was so beautiful. So manly and sexy. His dark chest hair still damp, the towel clinging in all the right places. And he was so damned amazing. Dirty sex and a sweetheart. Who else would have stuck by me so long?
I slid the computer off my lap onto the couch and stood up, gesturing back to the cushion as I did. “Why don’t you take a look at today’s article? I’ll go make eggs.”
“Randall, I don’t need to read any more of the articles. Neither do you. You’re driving yourself crazy.” He grabbed himself over the towel and tilted his head back toward the bedroom. “Why don’t we put breakfast on hold for a bit and work at clearing your mind? It’s been a couple of days. I’m sure it would help.”
That’s how messed up I’d been. I hadn’t even wanted sex.
“No, I think you should read this. I’ll go cook.”
I ignored the frustrated expression Noah wasn’t able to hide and walked into the kitchen.
The sofa made a quiet squeak as he sat down.
I waited. I opened the refrigerator, stared at the carton of eggs, and waited.
Though I heard Noah get up off the couch, I didn’t bother to leave the comforting coolness of the fridge.
“You needing help remembering what eggs look like?”
Letting out a breath, I closed the door and looked at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about you getting dragged into this. I was only thinking about me.”
He leaned against the doorframe. “It’s all right. I knew it was coming, at least if the articles kept up. I’m surprised that was all it was. There wasn’t even an interview with someone from my past. It was pretty harmless. Not even sure what the point was.”
