Chapter 9
1108 Words
Leah
The latest issue had barely been out two days when the news started pouring in; our numbers had skyrocketed. My interview with Dante Kerlsen had been the hook, and readers had bitten hard. All the available copies were gone before noon. I had watched with growing disbelief as each bookstore, coffee shop, and kiosk ran out of stock. I wasn’t arrogant, well, maybe a little, but even I hadn’t anticipated the response to be this explosive.
Sitting at my desk now, with my planner spread open in front of me, I traced each filled line with my pen, rereading names of CEOs, directors, elite entrepreneurs… All requesting to speak with me. Me. Because of one perfectly crafted, slightly dangerous interview with a man I still couldn’t figure out.
“God,” I murmured, not even to myself, “what a difference one story can make.”
As I flipped to the following week, I was hit with the realization that I barely had time to breathe, let alone chase after a man who clearly wasn’t interested in anything more than a curt exchange. But even as I thought that, I found myself thinking of Dante again.
Specifically, that damn motorcycle ride. The wind screaming past, the violent lurch in my stomach when he gunned the engine, the terrifying awareness of every muscle in his back as I clung to him like my life depended on it. It had been reckless, absolutely infuriating, and yet… a part of me had loved every second of it.
I pressed the back of my pen to my lips thoughtfully. That was the thing about Dante. He made me feel things I had no business feeling; Gratitude, because he had unwittingly handed me the biggest scoop of my career; Admiration, because for someone so aloof, he was maddeningly competent at everything he did. And then that other thing; a loathing that curled around the edges of my thoughts like smoke. A loathing that wasn’t really loathing, not if I was honest. It felt like hatred, but... it also burned in the same place as …attraction.
It was the kind of hate that made you want to press up against someone and kiss them just to spite them.
I blinked out of my thoughts and looked down at my planner again, flipping pages quickly. There had to be an event, something social or professional where our paths would cross again. Not that I couldn’t reach out to him directly; I had his contact info. I had made sure of that when I swiped one of his cards from his car. But to call him out of the blue? With no reason?
I would come off as obsessed. And Dante wasn’t the type to entertain obsession, I could sense it. He would shut me down harder and faster than last time, and last time had ended with me glued to his back trying not to scream for my life.
I sighed and rubbed my temple, then absentmindedly reached up to touch my left earring. It was there, a gold hoop I had gotten only a few weeks ago. I touched my right ear, and paused.
There was just a simple stud earring there. I sat bolt upright. “Wait,” I said aloud. “Just wait a minute.”
There was only a stud earring on my right ear, not a hoop.
May walked by, a stack of papers in hand, on her way to the printer. She paused, eyeing me suspiciously. “You okay?”
I turned to her, my eyes lighting up. “My earrings.”
May blinked. “What about them?”
I gestured to the one still in place. “They’re new, right?”
“Yeah. They’re super cute, by the way. I was going to ask if I could borrow them next Friday—”
“I lost one,” I interrupted, my voice catching with glee. “I lost one of them.”
May tilted her head. “Uh. Okay?”
I stood, still clutching my planner. “I lost it with Dante. When we were on that death trap of a bike. Probably flew off when he tried to kill me going ninety uphill.”
May’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh no. Did you check your coat?”
I shook my head. “It’s not there. I’ve already checked. I lost it during the ride. That’s it. That’s my reason.”
May’s brows drew together. “Your reason...?”
“To call him.”
Her face morphed into a half-smile, half-cringe. “Leah…”
“It’s perfect!” I cried, completely ignoring her warning tone. “It’s not completely made up, it did happen. I mean, I don’t really care about the earring, but he doesn’t need to know that.”
May started laughing. “You’re insane. Like genuinely. That smile you’re doing right now? Creepy.”
“Flawless,” I corrected, grabbing my phone.
“I’m telling HR you’re harassing this poor man.”
“Too late,” I sang as I fished out the business card I’d stolen from the side pocket of his car door the day of the interview. I flipped it between my fingers, studying the elegant but firm font. Just like him. Straight to the point. No frills.
I dialed his number before I could overthink it. It rang only once before he picked up. “Hello.”
God, that voice. Crisp, flat, and absolutely uninterested. I leaned back in my chair and smiled like he could see it. “You don’t sound very much like you’ve missed me, Mr. Kerlsen.”
There was a pause. I imagined him pinching the bridge of his nose, maybe muting the call to groan. The thought gave me immense satisfaction.
“Ms. Sparrow,” he said flatly, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”
I dragged out a sigh. “I lost something very precious to me.”
Another pause. “And you’re calling me about it because…?”
“I think I lost it during the ride,” I said, letting just the right amount of sadness lace my voice. “One of my earrings. I only noticed today.” He didn’t say anything. I added, “It was my grandmother’s. She gave it to me before she passed.”
Which was a complete and utter lie. I had bought the pair online during a sale. But the silence that followed told me it might’ve worked.
“It’s very important to me,” I added softly, pretending to sniff. “Sentimental value, you know? Can I come look for it?”
- Writer
