Page 69 of Babies for the Big Shot

“Someone sent me a picture,” I say. “Of me. With someone else. From the gala. Private. Taken from a distance. No note. No return address. Just the image.”

Her pause is slight. Calculated. “Only one?”

I stiffen. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” she says lightly. “Just surprised they’re not playing a stronger hand. Yet.”

“They?So it wasn’t you?”

“Nick.” Her voice sharpens. The flirtation disappears. “If I had something like that, I’d sign it. And if I were trying to blackmail you, you’d already be trending on Twitter.”

She’s not wrong.

Rebecca has never preferred subtlety. She operates in full view, for maximum spectacle. If she intended to damage me, she wouldn’t do it anonymously.

But she hasn’t exactly kept her disdain for Sara a secret, either.

“Then who did?”

“How the hell should I know?” she snaps, then exhales, softer. “Look… if someone’s circling you again, you need to get ahead of it. You know that. Better than anyone.”

“I’m handling it,” I say, knowing full well I’m not.

A pause.

“Come to lunch.”

I close my eyes. “I don’t have time for games.”

“Who said anything about games?” Her voice turns syrupy. Dangerous. “Imighthave something useful.”

My jaw tightens. “You just told me you didn’t know anything.”

“Oh, Nick,” she replies. “I know everyone. I can find out anything. The question is whether I feel like sharing.”

“Cut the theatrics.”

“This isn’t theater,” she says, unbothered. “This is the part where you acknowledge that you’re not in control of this situation. Not completely.”

I don’t answer. I don’t need to. She can hear it in the silence. She always could.

She presses in.

“Do you remember how quickly things escalated last time?” Her tone is lower now. “With the press. With Evelyn…”

I sit back. Exhale once.

“If you want the truth,” she says, “or if you want to keep it from going public, I’m your best chance of getting it.”

And the worst part is, she might be right.

“Delancey and Orchard. One o’clock,” she says. “I’ll order something strong for you.”

“Rebecca—”

“Come. Or don’t. But if you wait too long, the window will close. And you know how fast things move in this city.”

She disconnects.