Since the screen was open to his message, there was no mistaking that I had read them. Or at leastseenthem.
Deadline Daddy:
I have a plan. We’ll keep you relevant without dangling you out like bait.
My jaw tightened. Keep me relevant. That probably shouldn’t have felt like an insult, but holy shit, did it.
Me:
Not now.
Deadline Daddy:
When?
I didn’t answer.
Deadline Daddy:
Mallory.
Me:
Talk to me when you get the ratings for this week.
I regretted the message the moment I sent it. It was biting, a little too biting, and it definitely revealed my aggravation. Flint wasn’t the problem here. Annoyed with myself, I flipped back over to the game and went for the next level.
The house felt wrong without Brewster. Too quiet. Too hollow. Sterling shifted positions periodically. He would walk through the house, then return to the kitchen. When I went to the living room, he took up a post there.
It made my teeth ache. Late afternoon bled into evening. The notifications increased. It looked like one of the clips might have gone viral. Ignoring the desire to check out which one also cost.
Then the door opened.
Despite passing level 500 on the game, I couldn’t miss the sound of the door closing or the soft shush of shoes on wood floors. The air pressure shifted.
“Sterling,” Brewster said. Calm. Controlled. “You’re good to go.”
The other agent nodded once, efficient, and disappeared without a backward glance.
And just like that, the house seemed to take a deep breath and energy seemed to rush in to fill the hollow corners.
Brewster didn’t look at me right away. He set his jacket down on the back of a sofa and took the time to roll up his sleeves. I kept filling in the latest board, though I was aware of each step he took.
“You did it,” he said finally.
“Yes.”
When he stared at me after that single word, I spared him a glance. What did he expect? We made a plan. I executed the plan. Now I waited without checking or responding to anything. I wasn’t the one who went off script and disappeared for the day without so much as a sorry, gotta go.
“Any response yet?”
I was almost finished with the level, so I worked through the next handful of combinations.
“Mallory?”
Glancing up, I met his gaze. His eyes were sharp. Heated.
“Any response yet?” The repeat of the question almost amused me. Someone didn’t like being ignored.
