Page 50 of All Tied Down

Don’t mind if I do…

20

EMERSON

OAKEY: When you get in the office come see me before you go upstairs.

Istare at the message as we pull into the garage of Andrews International and park by the bank of private elevators reserved for a select few, and frown.

“Nico?”

“Yes, Miss Andrews?”

I swallow the growl that wants to escape at the greeting as he looks at me in the rearview mirror.

“Do you know anything about meeting Tom this morning?” I hate surprises but even more I hate surprises on days that shouldn’t have anything out of the ordinary going on.

“No, he didn’t say anything before I picked you up.”

Perfect.

“Well, let’s go see your boss, and we’ll figure this out, but just realize if it’s bad we’re stopping for ice cream on the way home.”

His lips twitch but he nods solemnly. “Understood.”

Packing everything back into my work bag, I wait until Nico opens my door to school my expression. It’s the best armor I have, and even though I’m just going to see Tom, I want to ensure anyone I come across knows I’m not concerned.

About anything.

Because I’m Emerson Fucking Andrews.

Nico punches in the code to the side door and we enter the moment the lock disengages, my heels clicking on the dark tile floor. The décor is minimal down here. Tom didn’t want the focus to be taken away from what they’re being paid to do with watercolor paintings and fake plants that no one would bother dusting.

When I’m feeling feisty, I like to send him a package with a fake plant that he has to sign for and then I wait for him to call and bitch about me wasting his time.

It’s my favorite game.

Isla and I have been doing it for years—and since she’s not here anymore, it’s only right that I carry on the tradition.

Rounding the last corner, I stop and knock on his office door, his expression grim as he meets my gaze.

What now?

“I need you to not make that face,” I tell him, the ex-military turned private security hulk of a man not dissuaded by my request as he sighs and hands me a piece of paper.

“This article was blasted all over social media last night,” he says as I scan over the words, the reporter’s name not ringing any bells as I read through the mostly vague gossip and speculation about my relationship with Garrett.

But my heart stops as my gaze snags on the next words.

Sources close to Emerson Andrews stated that there’d been no indication that Andrews was dating anyone prior to her trip to Vegas and it was business as usual when she returned. However, sources stated that things changed when Garrett North arrived at Andrews International, out of the blue…

“Someone in my office.” It’s not a question but a statement and Tom nods. “Who? And who the fuck wrote this?”

“The reporter, Heather Fraser, is a former girlfriend of Garrett’s from about four years ago. They dated for about two months. She’s more of a blogger and influencer than a reporter.”

“Do we know who her source is?”

“Not Des,” Tom reassures me as he picks up another piece of paper, the relief palpable as it courses through my veins. The person I trust the most in my immediate office circle hasn’t betrayed me.