Page 150 of The Doctors Will See You Now

I closed my eyes tightly and took a deep breath. “Harlow.”

“Okay, fine. Which article about you?”

“Harlow!”

“Well, there are two. Be realistic here. I’m not a mind reader!”

“I talked to you. I cooperated. I gave you plenty of juicy, true material to use for those photos. And yet, I read the fucking article, and not one word of it was what I actually told you.”

“I had another inside source.”

“One better than me?”

“Yes, if you must know. You’re biased.”

“I’m biased,” I repeated.

“Yep. You like to sugarcoat things about yourself, obviously. So I had to talk to another inside source.”

“And that person would be?”

“I can’t tell you that. But if I get permission from them, I will.” She paused and I sighed, deep and beleaguered.

“Okay,” she relented. “I got permission.”

I furrowed my brow in confusion. “Just now?”

“Yep. I’m the inside source.”

“How the fuck are you the inside source? I’ve never met you.”

“Ah, see, that isn’t something my source is comfortable divulging.”

“Your source, meaning you.” My temples throbbed with my now heavy pulse.

“Exactly.”

“Harlow—”

“Listen, Scott, I’ve really gotta go. But it was nice chatting, okay?”

“No, it’s not okay—”

“Talk to you soon.”

Click.

I stared down at the screen of my phone, a deep, piercing frustration making my eye twitch.

Goddamn this infuriating woman. I was half tempted to track this columnist down and give her a piece of my mind in person.

Because seriously… Who in the fuck is this Harlow Paige?

“Tell me you’re excited, Low.”

Internally, I sighed. “I’m excited, Dad.”

He scrutinized me with his gaze and one heavy brow slanted in disapproval.