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Crap. I’m actually considering this, then. My reasoning abilities are also shot. “And how would you introduce me? Hey, Mom, this is Scarlett. She’s written an article that’s about to cause a lot of trouble for your family.”
“Good point.”
“Didn’t think that through, did you?” Not that I don’t already know he has an impulsive side.
“She doesn’t have to know. I can just tell her you’re my…friend or something.”
Ouch. “And when they ask what I do?”
“We’ll figure it out. I know you’ve got a good poker face.”
I don’t ask what that means. But yes, he’s right.
Ugh.
“You okay?”
Oops. I didn’t know I ughed out loud. “Yeah. I’m thinking.”
“So, does that mean I’m not being rejected?”
I pace some more. Think some more. Claudia will be happy if I can find something useful to add; I don’t have to tell her how I got it. Daphne will want to rush me to the hospital to get brain scans.
I’m still unsure of his intentions, though. What he thinks he’ll gain from this. What his motives are. I’m a journalist entering into enemy territory to get an ‘inside look’ at their family. Undercover. At the suggestion of one of their own.
So, I do the perfectly reasonable thing. The thing that makes the most sense—“Okay,” I say with a sigh. “I’ll go. Come pick me up outside of the Atlantic.”
