Page 120 of The Golden Scoop

It would’ve destroyed me if I’d told her I loved her, only to find out she still hated me and it was all an act. Classic Matt—coward away, pull back before it gets real. Harrison might be right.

“Great. Like I didn’t already have enough to overthink about.”

He doesn’t stop there.

“What do you think Emma would say right now,” he asks, “if you told her how you felt about her?”

She’d probably scoff. Call me a liar. Accuse me, jokingly, that I’m trying to get her into bed. Then, after I insisted, she’d call me out. Tell me I’m being an idiot.

My heart hopes she’d feel the same. My mind is lining up reasons why she wouldn’t, because without my career, I can’t be worthy of something like that.

It’s hours after Harrison leaves, and I’m still in the living room. The house is back to being quiet, but it’s less lonely and more investigative journalism, courtesy of Emma.

I take out my phone and pull up The Golden Scoop. Harrison’s words echo in my head. About truth, patterns, the way she approaches her assignments. Pieces click when I remember how mad she got when she thought everyone on set was lying for me.

Column after column, I read. The things everyone pretends not to see, and how chaotic the industry really is.

Perspective really comes in when it’s all put together in one place. Most of the rumors, I know are true from interacting with these people myself. Others, I have to look up.

I scroll all the way back to last year. There’s not a single lie.

The headline… an article full of drama, when the only thing that’s passed between us these past three weeks is honesty and⁠—

Love.

It doesn’t add up. It can’t be Emma.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Emma

“Are you sure you don’t want us to go with you?” Julia asks, double-parking in front of Golden’s headquarters. Olivia sticks her head between the front seats and nods excitedly. “Harrison’s got Matt covered.”

Both of them deserve some credit. Olivia’s kept her cool after finding out about my real job. I’m sure she’s created a new note where she’s jotting down everything she wants to ask me, but for now she’s behaved.

Yesterday was a nightmare. ‘Spiraled’ feels generous. Not hearing from Matt wrecked me. Julia my voice of reason, kept me grounded long enough to finally put myself in his shoes.

Imagine going out with the person you’ve been into for two years, only to accidentally discover it might’ve all been a ruse.

So yeah. I knew exactly what I had to do.

I’ve overlooked some questionable behavior at Golden during my time here. It’s why I only get along with Kate and a handful of editors. The rest of the pack couldn’t care less what they write, as long as their paychecks clears.

“I’ll be fine,” I assure them. “Martha’s the one who should be worried.”

They start cheering so loudly half the street turns to stare as I get out of the car. I give everyone a dramatic bow, then head inside.

I debriefed Kate on the way over. She’s on lookout duty, making sure Martha stays put—and she’s taking it very seriously. A few minutes after I text her, my phone buzzes repeatedly.

Kate

Prey is secured.

Sent her a decoy article. Outdated references. Four aggressively incorrect then/thans.

There’s no way she’ll be mad at you after that.

Martha’s feelings are the last thing I’m concerned with. I don’t do well with threats. Any hesitation I might’ve had twelve hours ago went out the window when I saw Matt’s message this morning. If he’s not giving up, neither am I.