Page 14 of Reckless
Her eyes bulge. “Griffin, that’s ridiculous. It’s half of my rent payment! I can’t let you do this.”
“I didn’t ask, and I’ve prepaid for the next week.” She sputters incoherently as I walk around her suite out of habit. “Nonrefundable.”
“This is too much.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s what you do to help your friends.”
“We aren’t friends.”
“Coworkers.”
“You’ve barely spoken to me before tonight.”
She isn’t wrong there. “Are you saying you don’t want the room?”
Phoebe sighs and dumps her bag on the bed. “I’m too tired to argue about this anymore. I’ll stay here until my place is fixed, but I want you to know I’m doing so under duress. I will pay you back, even if it takes me months.”
I won’t accept her money, so the point is moot. “Make sure to lock up behind me, Phoebe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You sound worse than my father,” she grouses, but she says, “See you tomorrow, Griffin.”
When the door closes behind me, the lock clicks into place, followed by the rattle of the chain lock. I wish she had a couple of good deadbolts, but this is as safe as I’m going to get her without hiding her away in a bunker. The idea does hold a certain amount of appeal. At least I know she’d be safe there for certain.
All I can do for now is wait for an answer from Jackson to the email I sent. I know Phoebe works for his wife Catherine’s firm, so maybe if I give him a heads-up, he’ll let me know how to arrange security for Phoebe at CJJ and the studio during filming.
Chapter Seven
Phoebe
“Please let me know if there’s anything else we can do to help. I mean it.” Catherine takes my hand in hers and squeezes. “Jackson says he’ll take care of security on set. No one will be able to get to you there. I know Griffin, and he’ll keep an eye out for you, too. You can trust him.”
I really hit the jackpot when she offered me this job. I don’t want to let her down. “I will. I appreciate you being so accommodating. I want to apologize, but I have a feeling you’ll tell me I don’t have anything to apologize for.”
Catherine releases my hand with a warm smile and takes a seat behind her desk. “You’d be right. You’re doing excellent work so far. I’ve seen the stills and the proposal for the social media campaign. It’s compelling. I want to do whatever I can to keep you with us. And Jackson will do whatever he can to help the police find out who’s stalking you. Or else.”
Her glowing compliments erase some of the trauma of the past twenty-four hours. “Thank you. I hope you know this won’t affect my work in any way. I’m more determined than ever to make this launch a success.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Now, let’s talk about the launch.”
* * *
The first social media campaign for Arthur Oswald’s directorial debut takes off to a rousing success in the following days. After many sleepless nights, countless days on set, and hustling in the office, our hard work and dedication are finally starting to pay off.
“They arelovingit,” Emily says excitedly as she thumbs through her shots on our Instagram page. The lights from the bar play over her animated face.
“You’re not eating it up at all,” I say good-naturedly.
“Chalk it up to my artist’s ego,” she answers.
“Worth every compliment,” I tell her. “You’ve done an incredible job. This wouldn’t have been possible without you.”
She raises her wine glass to clink with mine. “That’s why we’re celebrating. To badass, hardworking women.”
“Hear, hear.” I drink back the rest of the wine and allow myself to relax, if only for a little.
“How are things going with your apartment?” Emily asks over the din of music and shouted conversations. “Any other psycho messages?”
I shake my head and signal for another glass of wine. “Not since the night my apartment was broken into, thank goodness. Maybe their interest has died off.”