“You know where she is, don’t you?” I asked, lifting my pleading eyes to meet his. “Please, I just want to apologize. There are things I never said, things she deserves to hear. I just want a chance to say them.”
For a second, I thought he was going to walk away. He shifted his weight like he was done here. Like he was ready to wash his hands of it.
But then—he stopped, his shoulders falling with a heavy, exasperated sigh as if already believing he would regret this.
“I don’t know where she is,” he paused, his voice hesitant, “but I know where she isgoingto be.”
I didn’t expect Patrick to be thrilled to see me. Unless, of course, he was the one standing at a podium, announcing my downfall. Little did he know, he was about to be.
“I need your help,” I said bluntly. “Reporters. Press. As many contacts for only the biggest papers. As many as you have.”
Patrick didn’t bother hiding the scowl. “That so? And what exactly makes you think I’d help you? Like you said, you have read my work. I don’t exactly have a soft spot for the wealthy and out of touch.”
“This isn’t for me,” I said, meeting his gaze steadily. “Not this time. It’s for Harper.”
“Harper?” His brow crept up, skeptical. “Your assistant? What could she possibly have to do with this mess?”
“For years, you’ve been hunting for my weakness,” I said, voice rough with something closer to pain. “It’s her.”
He chuckled, dark and humorless as realization dawned on his features. “You slept with your assistant and now want me to clean up your mess?”
“No. I am done hiding her. I want everyone to know about this. I love her. More than anything—more than I thought possible. But none of it means shit if I can’t fix this.”
Patrick leaned forward, drumming his fingers on his desk. “Why come to me now, Ambrose? Why crawl to the one person who’s made it his mission to expose you?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Because I’m losing her. And I can’t fix this alone. I need help.”
His gaze sharpened, sizing me up. “You do realize I’m the last person you should trust.”
“Exactly,” I said, not flinching. “Because you hate me. Because you’ve been waiting for me to slip. And because you want the story. The scandal with me dead center. Final proof that I never deserved any of it.Especiallynot her.”
Patrick leaned back, studying me like I’d just handed him a live wire. “And you’re going to give me that?”
I nodded once. “If you help me.”
He stared for a long moment, then reached into a drawer and pulled out a small notepad. Scribbling something, he slid it across the desk.
“Here,” he said gruffly. “These are my contacts. Use them wisely. And don’t screw this up.”
I allowed the smallest smirk to show on my face. “Fortunately for both of us—I can’t afford to.”
Harper
Istared down at my ticket.
The edges were worn, soft, frayed from the past hour of neurotic fiddling—folding it, smoothing it out, folding it again. Like maybe if I ruined it enough, I’d have an excuse not to go.
But I wouldn’t ruin it.
I needed this flight.
Ineededthis clean break.
Didn’t I?
The airport hummed around me with impersonal chaos. Children screaming. Announcements blaring over the intercom like static. Someone behind me was complaining about the overpriced croissants.
It was almost poetic, the way the world kept spinning while I prepared to fall off the face of it—to disappear.
