Kai knows it, too. "There's more, isn't there?"
I shrug, because I don't care to investigate what happened today too closely. It's almost like they went into it intending to divide and conquer. Like they knew they'd have to slip it in under the radar. They were prepared with whatever it took. In my case, it took a handsome man asking me all sorts of questions I should have known better than to answer. It took someone pretending to be interested in me for me, a man to pay attention to me and call me pretty, flatter me, compliment me. It happens so infrequently?—
"Denali?"
"Don't worry about it," I say quietly, crossing my legs as I spot the waiter heading our way with our order. Or what Ihopeis our order. "Just eat, and smile, and we can get the fuck out of here."
Or not,I realize as a familiar voice echoes out behind us.
"Oh, you come here, too?"
It's that damn female interviewer. How did she find us here?
Kai turns around, but instead of giving her the cold shoulder I've seen him give others, he's all smiles for her, inviting her to sit with us as the waiter sets down our plates and waits to see if he needs to take another order.
I'd really rather he use that abrasive attitude he possessed when I first met him to chase her off, but he doesn't. He's polite but distant, only offering what's absolutely necessary to her conversation.
I tune them out and dig into my food, a nice pasta dish that'll probably put more weight than I need on my hips, but oh well. Now's not the time to worry about that.
By the time we're done eating, his afternoon appointment has cancelled on us, asking to reschedule before the gala. I agree, squeezing them in on the day before the event, deciding if Kai's going to sit here and entertain some floozie who I just finished saving him from, he can do it on his own time.
"Well, your afternoonisclear," I say with a frown, feeling like a third wheel already, "so if you want, we can call it a day now."
Please send me home. I'd love to get away from whatever this is.
"Are you sure?" Kai's eyes twist from me, to the girl next to him, back to me. I get it, I know what he wants. He's asking for time alone. Cool, I can manage that.
"Oh, I'mdefinitelysure." I pick up my purse, the tablet, and then decide to abandon the dish I ordered, not least of which because I'm suddenly no longer hungry. "You stay, since you'reclearlyenjoying yourself?—"
I don't give him time to argue. I don't bother waiting for confirmation. If he didn't want her at the table, he wouldn't have invited her. And no, I'm not mad. I'm not upset, I'm not anything. I'm not frustrated that I bothered to interrupt his interview with her in the interest of saving him from probing questions, just for her to follow us to lunch and intervene alone. I'm just pent-up from everything lately, and tired, and maybe a little irate still that they bothered to ask us for an approved list at all.
I mean, why disregard your own contract? I could go back and have the whole interview yanked. Ishould.
I think maybe I will.
Roger is outside, waiting for us, with a burrito or something in his hands as he multi-tasks eating and serving as aplaceholder in line for his demanding boss. Marching up to him and informing him he won't be taking me home is quick, and once I've done that, and brushed off his offers to take me home first while Kai finishes lunch, I flag down a cab and head back to the podcast studio.
I know my rights, and my responsibilities. And sure, I could just demand they cut the parts we don't agree on. But I'm spoiling for a fight. The easiest target is here, in front of me, and damn, it'll feel good to be a little vindictive.
Five minutes later, I walk out with the interview tape in hand, and a flash drive with the backup on it. I forced them to delete any copy of it they had on their devices, too. The threat of legal action should be enough to keep them from publishing it if they did save a clip or three here and there. And without further thought, I take the hard copies around to the alley, lay them on the ground, and smash them into a thousand little pieces with the heel of my boot.
And then head home, because fuck this day in general.
It's quiet, save for the incessant purring Taco's doing. He's loud, and right up against my chest, so I can't sleep early, like I planned. Kai didn't bother to text me to tell me he made it home okay, and I"m not letting that bother me. If there was a problem, Roger would have messaged me by now. He would, wouldn't he? Of course he would. He's a trained professional. He knows what to do in situations like that. He would reach out to me, and then to the company. It's probably fine.
I turn on the tv, then turn it off. Nothing interesting is on the screen today. And I still haven't had time to set up my stupidstreaming services on this damn flatscreen. I could just cram an episode of my favorite show on my phone?—
I flip over on my stomach and reach for my phone, but it buzzes before I can pick it up. Curious, I stare at the screen and sigh.
Kai.
If he thinks I'm going to be on call for him tonight, when he threw my attempt to help him in his face, then he's got another thing coming. I need a few fucking minutes alone, and I'm not about to go run to get him some fucking condoms or whatever he needs for his little one night stand, just because he's too lazy to remember to get them while he's out. Let him send Roger.
It rings twice more, so I do what I can to ignore it, but in the end, the call of responsibility is too great. I can't just ignore him because I'm mad. He probably doesn't even realize what the hell he did.
I answer the next time he calls, and immediately launch into the sex talk with an air of exasperation. "If you're calling me to do a supply run for you because you're out of condoms?—"
"De…nali," he rasps, his voice quiet, reedy, slurred. "Dr-dr, no, roof . . . roofie. I think—help, kera."
