Page 27

27

JACK HALE IS IN LOVE

Jack

I take a sip of coffee and look out the kitchen window to nothing but a cold winter morning and dark rolling hills. The sun isn’t set to rise for another hour. Levi has rounds this morning, and there was no way I was going to allow this to go on another day.

We’re addressing this shit before he leaves. When Emma wakes up, she won’t have this to worry about.

I know this house and land almost as well as Carissa and Levi. I spent my last semester of high school sneaking in and out of this place.

When I hear him, I turn and lean my ass to the counter. He’s standing in the same spot he was last night, but this time my friend is dressed in scrubs and ready to save lives.

“I need to get to the hospital.” Levi drops his bag on the island, crosses his arms, and looks me up and down. “You’re up early.”

Unlike him, I’m not dressed for the day. I look like I just rolled out of bed after an active night of sex and confessions, which is the truth. I left Emma naked and asleep so I could get this done without her having to deal with her brother.

I’m anxious to get back to her.

I set my mug down on the counter. “I want to talk to you before you leave. Just you and me.”

He glances at the trashcan in the corner where I tossed the cake last night before glaring back at me. “There’s nothing I want to talk about.”

“Are we really going to fucking do this? We’ve known each other our whole lives. I was your best man. I’ve always had your back.” I hold my arms out low. “You know me, Levi.”

He takes a step forward and the only thing separating us is the kitchen island. “Exactly. I do know you. Which is why last night was such a fucking shock.”

“Are you kidding me?” I hiss.

“She’s my sister, Jackie. That’s all that needs to be said.”

I am rarely at a loss for words.

In fact, I can’t remember the last time I was so fucking shellshocked that I didn’t know what to say.

I look to the side so I don’t say anything I’ll regret.

“How long?”

I shrug and look back at him. “Does it matter? Will it make a difference?”

“I want to know how long you’ve hidden this from me.”

“I’m not sure what you want, Levi. Fuck, do you think I can’t take care of her? I haven’t seen your tax returns, and even though you literally cut heads open for a living, I know I made more than you last year. There’s no way I couldn’t have.”

“You think this is about money?” Levi spits. “I don’t give a shit about that. I never have.”

“If it’s not about that, then it’s about me ,” I thunder. “Which makes it fucking worse, and you know it.”

That shut him up.

Well, fuck me. His jaw turns to stone, and his stare doesn’t waver.

It’s all I can do not to scream the fucking mansion down. “Do you really think I’m going to fuck her over? This is Emma we’re talking about. Your sister.”

Levi pulls in a breath like he’s about to answer, but I don’t let him.

“Don’t.” I hold a hand out to shut him up. “If you actually say what I think you’re going to say, we’ve got bigger problems, man. I might not be a Hollingsworth, and I’ve never had a father, but that doesn’t mean shit. I don’t need six months or a year or even a decade to know what I’ve got. You can hate it. Hell, you can hate me, but I’m not giving her up. If it comes to choosing between you and your sister, I’ll pick Emma every fucking day until the end of time. And if you do anything to give her shit about me, we will go to blows. You will not upset her. Got it?”

“Holy shit.” Levi rocks back on his heels and crosses his arms. His head tips to the side to contemplate me. “This is real. You love her. You actually love her.”

It’s my turn to ponder that thought.

“This isn’t casual,” Levi adds.

“You know, fucker .” I stress that last word with zero affection for my best friend. “The only reason I’m not hurdling this island to punch you in the face followed with a knee to your balls is because that was a statement and not a question.”

Levi’s lips twitch in the corners. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I’ve never in my life wanted to punch you before last night. But I will if you insinuate one more time that what I have with your sister is casual. Good luck cracking heads open with one eye while doubled over with your balls lodged somewhere near your… I don’t know, kidneys? I only know the female anatomy—not all that other shit."

Levi shakes his head again. “Jack Hale is in love with my little sister.”

“What?”

Levi does a quick one-eighty.

My insides clench.

Emma stands on bare feet behind Levi wearing the T-shirt she stole from me at the beginning of the week. It hits the middle of her thighs. Her arms are crossed, hugging her middle, and she looks like me—thoroughly fucked in the best way possible.

She’s beautiful.

And she’s mine.

But the only way I’m letting her keep that T-shirt is if she agrees to major life changes.

That’s a conversation for another time.

Maybe I’ll get a tub of icing to convince her.

I move around the counter. And just because he dragged me through hell the last five minutes, I give Levi a hard shove to the chest when I pass him.

He has the nerve to laugh.

Emma ignores her brother stumbling back two steps and bites her lip as I claim her face.

She lifts to her toes to meet my kiss. This isn’t how I thought this moment would go.

If it backfires on me, I’m definitely punching Levi in the face.

When I finally tip my forehead to hers, I pull in a deep breath. “Baby, in a weird way, I think I’ve loved you since I kissed you the first time in the barn when you were fifteen.”

“What the hell?”

Well.

Levi’s good mood didn’t last long.

We ignore him.

Emma’s eyes glass over as she smiles. “I’ve compared every single man I’ve met to you. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”

I don’t look away from the woman I’m going to take shopping for rings as soon as we fix our problems.

I don’t see it, but hear Levi grab his bag and stomp toward the garage. “Don’t mind me, I’ll get coffee on the way to the hospital. I’m leaving before I learn something else I don’t want to know.”

Since we’re by ourselves, I yank her T-shirt up to cup her perfect ass. “I love you. If you want to keep that T-shirt, you have to move in with me as soon as I have windows.”

She slides her hands up the back of my sweatshirt over my bare skin. “I thought I was lucky you were my first kiss. The fact that you’ll be my last is a dream come true.”

I brush her cheek with my thumb. “I plan on being your last everything. What do you say we start the rest of our lives with shower sex?”

She licks her lips before she smiles. “I think I want something more than icing.”

All my blood rushes to my dick.

Yeah, I’m definitely in charge of my own karma, thank you very much, universe.

I just had no idea it would start in a barn full of goats and end at the Nebula Black Resort in Vegas.

Emma

He loves me.

I’m his end game.

The sarcastic, larger-than-life man who threw frogs at me when we were little has proved he can turn me to mush in a heartbeat.

Mush isn’t the sexiest look on my part, but Jack seems to get off on it.

He did in the shower this morning.

We had breakfast with Carissa and the kids, but Jack spent most of the time on the phone with Brett Sullivan. Brett’s more than ready for this to be over, but when he found out who Rylan Crawford was, he was as surprised as we were. He still keeps in touch with Renee.

That’s when I learned he stays in contact with all the recipients of his foundation. They’re not just for PR. He cares about them.

Brett Sullivan is a good guy. He’s ready to clear his name, come out of hiding, and enjoy his MVP and victory.

If Jack and Rylan do what they need to do today, that might happen sooner rather than later.

Jack kissed me in the circle drive in front of Levi and Carissa’s house so we could go our separate ways. I was on edge when I said goodbye. This is one of the few times we’ve been apart since we got together.

But things are going down today.

Ozzy called to let us know both Fred Pike and Gary Acosta plan to be at the Pike Agency even though it’s the weekend. They have meetings scheduled all day about contract renegotiations that are on the up and up and blackmailing anti-heroes, which are totally on the down low.

Jack is on his way there now.

Hopefully Rylan is going to follow through on his promise to call Gary Acosta.

And I have to go to work.

But not work-work. There will be no working for me today, or in the near future unless I can get this figured out. I might be on edge, but it’s being fueled by nothing but my red-hot anger.

I’m about to go into the station for my meeting with Mr. Folmer and HR, when I get a call from Ozzy. And what he says to me blows my mind.

“Emma, did I lose you?”

I sit and stare at the parking lot of the station and glance at the clock in my car. Damn, I’m late. “Sorry, I’m here. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. I’m late for my meeting.”

“I’m sure that will go a whole lot differently than it would’ve. You going to be okay?”

I force myself to move. “I have no choice, right?”

“Texting you now. Do what you want with it. But if I were you, I’d go for the jugular.”

I beep the locks on my car and double-time it to the front doors. “And that’s why you work with my dad, and I report the news. I don’t do jugulars , Ozzy.”

I hear a smile in his tone right before I get the notification for a text. “I saw you run out onto that football field. Work with me, Emma. At least make me proud and aim for a kneecap.”

I use my ID to buzz into the building, surprised it hasn’t been deactivated. “I’ll do my best. I’ve got to go.”

I stop inside the door, open my texts, and try not to allow my eyes to bug out from what I’m looking at.

Dang.

Ozzy is good.

There’s an audio file, too, but I’m interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

I look up to Sadie, the receptionist. She’s been nice and welcoming since I started here but not anymore. Her expression is bland with a touch of judgy as she stares at me. “You’re late. They’re waiting on you in Mr. Folmer’s office.”

My smile is fake with a touch of bitchy. “So sweet of you to point that out. May I see myself in, or do I need to be ushered?”

Her expression falters. She has no idea what to do.

“It’s okay,” I go on. “Since I haven’t done anything wrong, I feel good about walking in there by myself.”

I hike my purse up my shoulder and hold my head high as I walk through the halls to the executive producer’s large corner office. The few weekend reporters are staring at me, and not the way they did when I returned from Vegas after chasing down the most coveted interview in Sin City.

The open-concept workspace will allow them a front and center view for what’s about to go down. Mr. Folmer’s office might be soundproof, but the modern layout is made of glass walls. This could be like a silent movie playing out in technicolor.

And, of course, Molly Minders is perched on the edge of a desk talking to another member of the weekend cliquey club. Her cubicle isn’t anywhere near here. I’m sure she was circling like the vulture she is.

"Emma." She feigns surprise to see me. “How are you?”

I decide to focus on all the good things in my life at the moment like Jack, love, and the multiple strings of orgasms he seems to enjoy giving to me as much as I enjoy receiving them.

Even though I’m late, I take a moment and stop to talk. “I’m great, thank you for asking. I think the bigger question is … are you okay?”

Like any good reporter, she schools her features perfectly. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

I tip my head and study her for a moment. “You look tired. Maybe you’re coming down with something again?”

She shakes her head. “I feel amazing.”

“Glad to hear it. Maybe it’s just a lack of sleep. You should really focus on getting a full eight hours. Then again, that must be really hard while managing your schedule.”

She loses the smile altogether. “At least I have a schedule.”

The door to the corner office opens, and Mr. Folmer pins me with a frown. “We’re waiting, Emma.”

I toss him a smile. “Sorry, just catching up with Molly.” I turn back to the woman who is now standing straight on spiked heels, and I lower my voice to a whisper this time. “Mr. Folmer looks tired too, don’t you think? But I guess that happens when you’re out all night and not at home with your wife.”

Despite the heavily contoured angles of her face and expertly applied bronzer, Molly’s complexion pales.

“Hey, try magnesium glycinate. It’s good for your heart and helps you sleep.”

I turn for the office door.

“Wait—” Molly calls, but I’m already halfway through the threshold.

I smile and wave through the glass before she turns and hurries away.

She should really choose more sensible shoes. You never know when a career-changing opportunity presents itself. She’ll never make it in those shoes.

I shut the door, move to the small conference table in his office, and take a seat across from the three superiors. Mr. Folmer, August, and a woman whose name I can’t remember, but she did help me sign up for my insurance, are sitting across from me.

The station executive big-wig and two witnesses.

Someone is going to regret that decision.

I set my cell on the table next to my purse. “I’m sorry I’m late. I had to take a call about something work-related.”

“You’ve been put on leave,” Mr. Folmer reminds me. “You are not to be working or representing WDCN in any capacity until we make a final decision about what to do about your situation.”

I pull in a deep breath. “Yes, my situation. I’d like to talk about that.”

August leans forward and looks like he’s throwing one of those flags like they did in the football game to stop the aggressive play. “We’re here to talk. No one is making decisions about anything today.”

“There’s a process we need to follow,” the woman says.

I look at her. “You mean, you’re checking off your list before you can officially fire me?”

She gets defensive. “That’s not what I said. The process is to protect everyone involved—including you, Emma.”

“Great,” I say. “Then I’ll start. I’m not sure where you came up with the story that I am somehow involved with Brett Sullivan from the Founders. I never met him until I interviewed him after the game.”

Mr. Folmer taps the tips of his fingers on the table as he glares at me. “Interesting. We have conflicting facts.”

I hold Mr. Folmer’s condescending gaze. “Your facts are wrong, which means your source is not credible.”

“My source is very credible,” he counters and licks his lips before leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table. “Emma, I’m not sure how things worked at your previous networks, but this is the Capitol. We might be an affiliate, but we have a broad viewership, as you know since your initial interview with Sullivan was seen far and wide. Every move we make is scrutinized, not only by the entire country, but the world. August made the decision to release your private interview with Sullivan before pushing it up the channels. It’s more than suspect that you’re the only one he’s chosen to speak with, and he’s gone missing.”

The woman from HR scribbles copious notes so she can check all her boxes while August looks more and more nervous as the moments click on.

August tries to turn the meeting in another direction. “How did you land the second interview, Emma? Maybe that will ease some worries.”

“I reached out to his agent.” That’s not a lie.

“That’s it?” Mr. Folmer bites. “And of all the broadcasters across the world, he picked you?”

I smile, because nothing could be more truthful than that. “Yes. He picked me.”

The woman looks up from her notes that are being formulated to take me down. “We’re going to need more than that. Records would be good. Emails? Texts?”

I have enough texts from Jack to write a novel, but nothing I’m going to share with them. “No. We spoke on the phone.”

“I hope you can appreciate that we need proof,” she explains.

I lean back in my chair and counter. “You said you have proof I’m involved with the subject. I’d like to see it.”

“It’s employment at will. We don’t need proof,” Mr. Folmer points out. “Using your personal life to further your career is unethical.”

I lean forward and stress my words. “That is extremely unethical. Finally, something we can agree on. But it sounds like you’ve made your decision.”

Mr. Folmer hikes a brow.

“No, no.” August tries to make me feel better about my impending termination. “Not yet.”

“If that’s the case, I think I deserve to know your source. I can only guess it’s Molly Minders.”

The nameless HR woman fidgets in her seat.

August’s gaze drops to the table in front of him.

Mr. Folmer proves he’s an adept liar. “You would be wrong.”

“I guess we’ll never know,” I say. “But I do want to make sure that all WDCN employees are being held to the same standards. It would be a shame to find out that others are using their personal lives to further their careers when I was fired for it.”

“Of course, we hold everyone to the same standard,” the woman explains.

I turn my gaze back to Mr. Folmer. “I don’t think everyone is held to the same standard.”

He leans back in his chair.

I lean forward. “I never laid eyes on Brett Sullivan before the game in Vegas. I can count on one hand how many times I’ve spoken to him. I will not allow you to manipulate me or my career. I want a retraction, and I want it done by Molly Minders.”

Mr. Folmer leans forward and speaks through a hiss, but something about him seeps desperation. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Please. Can we talk about this calmly?” August begs.

I look to my producer who I like and have respected since the first day I met him. “I am calm. And I’m sorry you’ve been dragged into this. You’ve been nothing but kind and supportive. You don’t deserve this headache.”

“We’re done here.” Mr. Folmer stands so fast, his chair rolls back and hits the wall. “You’re fired. No entry level field reporter is going to talk to me like this. Dawn will get your final paperwork to you.”

Dawn. That’s her name.

“One more thing.” I pick up my cell to unlock it and tap on the photos app where I saved the pictures and video Ozzy sent me. I bring up the one that is zoomed in on Mindy and the executive producer who’s trying to ruin my career that was taken by someone on Crew’s team last night.

Mr. Folmer and Molly.

They’re standing next to a luxury car in an embrace.

I turn the cell around and set it on the table for all to see. “I haven’t had time to study all of these. But if I’m not mistaken, this looks like someone using their personal life to influence their career.” I glance across his office to the credenza behind his desk to a picture of a family photo. “This doesn’t look like your wife, Mr. Folmer. In fact, it looks like your credible source , if I can use that term loosely.”

Poor Dawn gasps. “Oh my.”

August winces.

“Fuck,” Mr. Folmer hisses. “Where did you get these?”

“Does it matter?” I flip through pictures. More embraces. A kiss. A grope. Walking arm in arm into a condo in Falls Church. “I doubt this is your house, right? These were taken last night. Not that it matters what day of the week it is that Mindy uses you to influence her career.”

Mr. Folmer falls into his chair. “You followed us?”

I’m not about to let anyone know I have access to an entire team who specializes in information and does it through a global satellite system. I ignore his question and pick up my cell. “There are more. I’ll email them to you—all of you—so you’ll have a copy for your records. You know what? I’ll add Molly, just in case she wants a copy. Memories.”

“Wow,” August whispers.

“I … I don’t know what to do,” Dawn admits.

“A retraction read by Molly,” I repeat, as I stand and slide my cell into my purse. “On the evening and nightly segments, or you’ll hear from my attorney. We’ll go from there.”

When I glance up one more time, August has a smirk on his face. Dawn looks constipated. And Mr. Folmer…

Well, I hope he doesn’t pop a vein.

I wouldn’t want that for anyone.

On my way out, I wave sweetly to the receptionist. “It’s a great day for a retraction, isn’t it?”

She frowns.

I don’t wait for her to say anything, because my cell rings. I can’t help but smile when I see who it is and answer. “It’s Saturday. Shouldn’t you be sleeping in late?”

“There’s too much going on to sleep, even for me. I’m hiding in my room so no one hears me before I go downstairs. I can hear them fixing breakfast,” Saylor says. “You haven’t answered any of my messages or calls.”

“Sorry. I’ve been going through some stuff. Please don’t tell me your mom killed the cougar.”

“It was so stressful, Em!” Saylor exclaims. I start my car up and transfer the call to Bluetooth. “Ricki was all over Knox during presents and cake after you left. I thought I was going to throw up. It was all Dad could do to keep Mom calm. At first, he kept filling her wine, and then I think he realized that wasn’t a good idea. You know she gets loose lipped, but it was too late. Things finally fell apart when Mom asked Ricki if she’s perimenopausal yet.”

It's my turn to gasp as I turn out of the parking lot. “She did not.”

“She did. Emma, I don’t even know at what age that happens, but I don’t think Ricki is that old.”

“Did you find out how old she is?” I head for Alexandria. I told Jack I’d call him right after my meeting, but the cougar news is too good to put off.

“Guess!” she demands.

“You know, I’ve got a lot going on right now to play the guessing game.”

“Fine. She’s thirty-two. She’s been divorced, not once, but twice! You should’ve seen Mom when that little bit of information was dropped when we got home from the birthday party.”

“Knox just turned twenty last month. What is he thinking? Is it his mission to give Keelie a heart attack?”

I glance at the screen on my dashboard when a call comes through.

Shit. It’s Ozzy.

“Saylor, I’ve got to go. We’ll pick this up later, okay?”

Typical Saylor. She ignores me and keeps talking. “You should’ve seen Dad. He was trying to keep the peace. I saw him pull Knox to the side. I have no clue what was said, and he was too tense for me to ask him. That’s why I’m calling. Can you call him and snoop around for details?”

“Sure, I’ll call later. But I’ve got to go.”

I’m about to hang up on her when she states, “I think Knox is having an existential crisis.”

“Saylor—”

“Shit,” she whispers. “I hear someone on the stairs. Gotta go.”

After all that, she’s the one who hangs up on me.

I click over as fast as I can. “Hello? Ozzy, are you there?”

Dammit. I’m about to return his call when I get another one.

This time it’s Crew.

I answer immediately. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Are you by yourself?” he bites.

“Yes. I’m leaving the station. You should’ve seen my boss’s boss when I showed him the pictures Ozzy sent?—”

Crew interrupts me. “Where is Jack?”

I pause, because I’ve only heard Crew speak in this tone once in my life. It was during the nightmare my freshman year of high school. “He’s surprising his old boss this morning. We’re meeting after at his place in Alexandria.”

“Fuck.”

Panic bubbles inside me. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

“No. Everything is not okay. We’re not the only ones following people.”