“To Violet?”
Simon shook his head as he walked up the steps, his arms full.
“When did you say that was gonna happen again?”
She would go on like this all day if he didn’t give her something else to talk about, so he said, “Archer told me about Brian.”
Paige huffed. “Yep. It is what it is. I’m done this time. For real. He’s stringin’ me along. I’m sure he broke up with me because he wanted to go on a date, and he’s a nice enough guy that he won’t cheat.”
Simon wasn’t a fan of Paige’s recent boyfriend, so it didn’t hurt his feelings that she kicked him to the curb.
“Holt said I could set up in here,” he told her as they walked into the apartment.
“This should work.” Paige studied the space, her attention going to the windows. “Unless it’s loud, but we won’t know untilwe try. We’ll get the mic set up on the desk. Might want to change the angle first.”
Simon didn’t care which way the desk faced, but he knew Paige preferred to have a view of the door at all times, so it was her natural instinct to want to move it.
“Since you won’t tell me about potential wedding plans, at least tell me about your girl,” Paige said, a teasing note in her voice. “I’m not sure I’ve seen you quite so … glowy before.”
“Fuck off,” he said without heat. “I’m not glowing.”
Paige set her case on the desk. “Are you sure about that?”
To be honest, no, he wasn’t. He couldn’t remember a woman from his past who made him feel the way Violet made him feel. Just thinking about her had the ability to sway his mood.
“You gonna see her after we leave?”
Simon walked to the windows, peered out at Walker Park. “I’d like to.”
“How’s that work? You’re gone more than you’re home, Simon. You’d have to shift your focus to local stories just to be in the same state.”
He’d thought about that already. Simon wasn’t worried about where his stories came from. There was more than enough to report on that would keep him closer to Violet.
“Or maybe you’re thinking about doing something different altogether?”
Simon shook his head. “No. This is what I’m meant to do.” Of that, he was certain.
“You sure this is what you wanna do?” Paige asked, opening the case that held the microphone. “This story, I mean.”
“You don’t?”
“I think it’ll be interesting. Maybe. I’m not sure how keen I am on interacting with the Adorites. If you haven’t noticed, people who hang around them too long tend to die. I mean, come on. The media refers to them asmafia.”
“In the technical sense, they are,” Simon told her. “An organized group that engages in criminal activities.”
He watched as a couple of squirrels chased each other through a patch of grass.
“I know what it means,” Paige said defensively. “I also know that Max Adorite was looking to go legit. Now, he’s not. I’m not sure it’s in our best interest to get caught up in some kinda turf war.”
“I don’t plan on it,” he assured her, turning away from the windows and grabbing the bag he’d brought up.
He set it on the desk, unzipped it, and pulled out the notepads he carried with him everywhere. While his episodes weren’t scripted, he took notes and used those notes to spur and steer the conversation.
“What if the story leads you there?”
“Where?”
“To the turf war. What if you get caught up in it?”
