“Hey.” I close the door. “Everything okay?”
Her gaze is still glued to the screen, her posture rigidly perfect despite the tension in her shoulders. “Did you see these numbers?”she asks, finally looking at me. “It’s… crazy. We’ve never had this many listeners. Not even close.”
My stomach churns, a mix of excitement and dread. After my visit to my grandmother yesterday, I completely forgot about this. “It’s because of that Reddit post,” I say, making my way in and flopping down on the chair. “The one about the murders. It went viral.”
Her expression darkens, her brow creasing. “Scarlett…” She pauses, choosing her words with surgical precision the way she always does. “Don’t take this the wrong way, because the podcast deserves recognition. But…” She gestures at the screen, her hand hovering uncertainly. “God, this isn’t how I wanted it to happen.”
I feel it, too, that strange, sour edge to our sudden success. “People are asking if we’re going to address the murders in the next episode,” I venture. “Do you think we should?”
“Absolutely not,” she says in a firm voice. “We’re a fiction podcast, Scarlett. That’s what we do—fiction. We’re not the news.”
Frustration prickles at the edges of my thoughts. Part of me hoped she’d see this as an opportunity, a chance to do something meaningful for Willowbrook. But I can see the fear in her eyes, her desperate need to keep our little podcasting world separate from the horrors of reality.
“You’re right,” I agree. “Fiction it is.”
Her shoulders relax visibly. “Speaking of fiction,” she says, her tone brightening slightly, “I have some feedback on your firstPassion & Pagesepisode.”
I lean in, curiosity sparked. Celeste pulls a sheet of paper from her desk drawer and slides it toward me. There isn’t a single mark or note on it.
“Really?” My eyebrows shoot up.
“Perfect, Scarlett,” she says, her eyes twinkling. “Your analysis was spot-on. I mean, I might actually pick up the book. It’s clear you really connected with the story.”
Warmth spreads through my chest.
“The way you described the tension between Luca and Simone,” Celeste continues, “it felt like the romance was jumping right off the page.”
“Thanks.” I hadn’t even realized I was so nervous about this. “I really enjoyed it.”
She glances at her screen. “Oh, and before I forget, I’ve booked you to record with Theo on Wednesday. Think you’ll be ready?”
“Yeah, I’ll be ready.”
“Good,” she says. When I stay put, she asks, “Anything else?”
“Uh, yeah, actually.” I dry the sweat off my hands on my thighs. “I went to see my grandparents yesterday. My brother said something that… Anyway, it turns out they want to send him to Virginia. And I was thinking of maybe reaching out to Steve to see if he has any advice.”
Her brows furrow tightly. “Are you at the stage of involving lawyers?”
“No.” I clear my throat. “I just want to be ready if that time comes. But if it makes anyone uncomfortable—I mean, I know he’s your husband, and…”And you’re lying about your separation.
“Why should anyone be uncomfortable?” She grabs her cell phone and starts typing. “I’ll tell him to clear his schedule for you.”
She’s raising her phone to her ear before I can get a word in, so I watch her telling Steve about the situation. Maybe Mrs. Prattle got it wrong—it wouldn’t be the first time. But then again, I’m pretty sure I saw Celeste in The Oak’s parking lot with someone who looks nothing like Steve.
Nah. It couldn’t have been her. This woman making out in a parking lot? I glance at her—sleek black hair tucked neatly behind her ears, spotless crisp white blouse, nails perfectly manicured. She looks like she just stepped out of a boardroom, not a late-night scandal.
“Friday?”
She’s talking to me, so I nod.
“Okay. Yes, eleven a.m. All right, I’ll see you later. Bye.” She hangs up, then claps. “All done. He’ll help with whatever you need—and don’t even think about paying any fee.”
“Celeste…”
“Come on. Get out.” She shoos me away. “We have work to do.”
Reluctantly, I step out of her office, the door clicking shut behind me as I throw a last thank-you her way. I walk through the corridors of Booked It, my thoughts churning.Steve will help, I tell myself. Even though it feels like I have no control. Like Ethan is being taken away from me all over again.
