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“Okay shoot,” he says.
Ugh. Take control…
I sharply cross my legs, tuck my hair behind my ear. He manages to keep his eyes above my chest. “So, big win last weekend at Atlanta Motor Speedway,” I acknowledge.
He nods. “Yes, thank you.”
“Congratulations.” My stomach flips at the word. I feel like I’m complimenting an inmate on death row before the electric chair.
“I’ll admit, though,” he says, gaze flicking in the direction of the door. “It seemed strange when Curtiss told me you wanted an interview a week after the fact.”
“Yes, well…” I swallow hard. “…this meeting is more of a…courtesy. Not really an interview.”
His eyebrows knit together.
I know courtesy is a strange word to use. And never a good one in respect to impromptu meetings. It definitely makes it stranger now that he doesn’t remember me. Way stranger. Do I remind him?
No.
Just go with it.
“A courtesy for what?” I can tell he doesn’t want to ask the question.
Be a shark.“A story that’s being readied for the press as we speak.”
“A story,” he repeats. It isn’t a question.
“It goes to press on Friday.”
The nausea comes back with a vengeance.
His face falls. “Is this a…” His eyes draw back to the door. “…should I call my manager in here?”
“If you wish.”
Another stare-off.
He decides against it. Leans into our conversation with his forearms resting against his knees. “What’s the story, Ms. Reed?” There’s an edginess to his voice now. A tangible unease. “And wait. What section do you write for?”
I really don’t want to tell him, but I have to. He’ll find out in a week anyway. “Crime and Public Safety.”
It takes a moment for that to soak in, and he pales. Leans back. “What’s the story?” he repeats, stiff-lipped.
“Do you remember a certain wreck in your teenage years?”
He doesn’t budge.
Barely blinks.
“A…source came forward and my boss assigned her to me. I’m afraid this will—”
He stands, cutting me off. But not in a rude way. He’s not red-faced or belligerent. He doesn’t even appear to be wounded.
He looks sick as he starts to pace.
“Jake, I…” I allow the words to trail off as he pauses, back facing me, and he silently stares ahead.
I decide to give him a minute.
