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“Cat, no.”
“He wants you to live with him. Live. With. Him.”
“For the story.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He's offering unprecedented access.”
“I bet he is.”
“Not that kind of access!”
“What kind?”
“His life. Knight Global. The Rovers. His schedule. Meetings. Events. His day-to-day routine.”
“His bedroom?”
“Separate bedrooms.”
“You discussed bedrooms?”
“That was me establishing boundaries.”
“Oh, honey.”
“Stop it.”
“Did he agree?”
“Yes.”
“Immediately?”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
I bite my lip. Shit.
“And then what?”
“Nothing.”
“Layla Hawthorne.”
“Don't full-name me.”
“What happened?”
I consider lying. But this is Catherine. She'll know.
“On my way out, he might've said something.”
“Something like?”
“It doesn't matter.”
