“Well, if the stiletto fits, darling.”
I gave an obligatory groan, then got serious once more. “So nothing from your investigator, huh?”
“I only hired him a couple of days ago. He said it might take a few weeks.”
“I don’t know if we have a few weeks, Kayla.”
She took on a soothing, motherly tone I’d often heard her use with Bailey. “Randall, I’m sure Sam and Noah are right. If any of your old clients had agreed to say those horrible things about you, we’d already have heard about it—from the news, the police, something. No one is going to betray you. Nobody who knows you.”
The thought of the police made my blood run cold, but I pushed the thought aside. It was too much. Way too much. “I think the past few months have already proved that’s not true. Someone who knows me is most definitely willing to say whatever they want to about me. And especially if they’re now offering money in order to do so.”
“I still say that won’t do any good. You’re not exactly cheap, Randall. Your photography clients aren’t poor. They aren’t hurting for money.”
“Maybe so. But they’re not all Morgans or Travazzas either.”
“You know….” Kayla paused, but I could tell from her tone it was for effect. “Maybe I should check with this person once we find out who it is. If the reward is enough, it could make it so I’m not so terrified to cross a line with Dustin or your parents.”
“That is so not funny.”
She giggled. “Oh, come on, it is a little bit.”
“No. Not even a bit.”
“Well, either way, Mr. Sourpuss, a parent wouldn’t make that accusation. They aren’t going to do that to their kid.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, they’d be saying something like that happened to their child. That would never go away. It would always be over their kid’s head.”
She had a point. The thought renewed my hope somewhat.
Kayla continued like she hadn’t tossed me a lifeline. “The investigator is going to take some time, so we just have to wait. He was certain he’d find something, though, so it’s just a matter of being patient. In the meantime, there are plenty of other things to talk about.”
“I haven’t made up my mind since you asked yesterday, Kayla.” But I wished I had. In all honesty, I knew what I wanted. That much was clear. But that didn’t mean it was what I should do.
“I don’t understand why you’re making a big deal out of it.”
“Because we’ve only been dating a few months. It’s too soon to move in together.”
“You’ve talked about Noah Carroll since I’ve known you. I agree with Noah. It’s not too soon. And it’s meant to be.”
Yes, it was. I had no doubt. “But now? In the middle of all this drama? Like moving in together needs any more stress.”
“You’re just trying to talk yourself out of it, but we both know you want to.”
I ignored that. “And his apartment. Kayla, you should see it. It’s awful, and I’d have to have my office in the living room since there’s not a spare room. And the window looks out to the brick wall of the building next door. And the bathroom has linoleum.”
“Oh, stop it. You’re making that up. It doesn’t have linoleum.”
“Yes. It. Does. And it’s yellow.”
I could practically see her turning green. “Oh my God, you are serious.”
“Yep.”
The line went silent for so long I nearly thought I’d lost the connection, or that she’d rushed off to vomit in disgust. Finally Kayla spoke. “Well, I can’t say I blame you on that one. But I’ll tell you this—I’ve got heated marble floors in the bathroom, and I’d trade them for yellow linoleum any day if it meant having freedom again.”
I hadn’t thought of it quite like that. “Would you really?”
