“Okay, but we were planning on doing that anyway.” She cocked her head at an odd angle. “You’re not one of those stalker types, are you? Granted, we know he’s got ’em. He’s gorgeous and deadly, and he saved that girl. I know those types of girls, the stalker ones, are a big reason why we want to interview him. We want that attention, but please tell me you are not one of those girls.”
“Oh.” I flushed. “No. I’m the furthest thing from that.”
“Good.” Her shoulders relaxed again, and we headed away from the market and went back to the sidewalk. “I think you would’ve had to compete with Susan for him, if that were the case.”
Walking side by side with Erica, I glanced at her. “Susan?”
Erica gestured to her own eye. “Every time we have meetings about the interview, because there’s a lot to work out, she gets this gleam in her eye. I wouldn’t be surprised if she cornered him or something. I’m sure the guy’s used to girls throwing themselves at him. But with Susan, who knows? She could drug him just to make sure she would have her way with him.”
“She wouldn’t pull something on him at the interview, would she?”
Suddenly, Erica stopped. Her arm was thrown out, and I walked into it from the abrupt motion.
“What—” The question died in my throat.
Erica was thinking. Her eyebrows were fixed together, and her lips were pinched as she was chewing on the inside of her cheek. That was the brainstorming I-had-a-sudden-light-bulb-thought look on her face, and I sat and waited. Sometimes, her ideas were genius. Other times, they were not.
She muttered, “Oh. My. God.”
I would’ve normally said, What? But I didn’t. It wouldn’t have mattered. Erica was in her own world. If Wanker had been there with us, he and I would’ve shared a look.
I waited again.
Her fingers turned to grab ahold of my sleeve. “You’re right, Jo. You’re totally right. She’s going to make a move. In the meeting last night, she said that there should be a dinner with the college higher-ups and his team.”
“Oh?” I frowned.
“Yeah, and I have a feeling she’s not going to want me there.” Her head jerked to attention, and she looked right at me. “We have to be there.”
“Uh, what?”
“Yes, we do.” She pointed at me. “You, too. Susan hates you. I know what you’re thinking.”
“I don’t think you do.”
“It’s not like I want to cockblock another girl. To each their own—but not her. I hate Susan. She’s so condescending, and she makes everyone feel like they’re dirt under her feet. I would hate if she got this guy—although, he’s a killer, so maybe that would be Karma for her. But still, I hate the thought of her getting this guy. I hate her for even trying.” She snapped her fingers. “I’m getting you to that interview with me somehow. This will be great. Just you being there will annoy the hell out of her. If she thinks she can scoop me in some way…hell nah, that’s not happening.”
Erica started forward, but my feet stopped working. I stood there, watching her talking to herself, as she hadn’t noticed that I wasn’t at her side. She wanted me at the interview—with her and Kian. So many scenarios were running through my mind. This could be bad, really bad, for me. But Erica had her mind set. I’d heard the determination in her voice. She was going to see it through, no matter what I did.
Kian couldn’t tell anyone. I would have to plead with him, make him see reason, but even at that idea, ice plunged through my veins. That meant I’d have to see him. I’d have to talk to him. It’d have to be in private. He couldn’t act like he knew me. If he did, all the attention would go to me. Step one for Blame Jordan would be successful.
My God.
My heart started racing again. The media storm that could happen—from the discovery that I was at the same college he was being interviewed by, that I would be in the room when it happened—would be disastrous.
“Jo?” Erica had clued in that I wasn’t at her side.
I looked down. From the distance of her voice, I had a few seconds to clear my mind and make all the panic go away.
Three.
“Hey.” She started toward me.
Two.
“Jo?” A weird laugh slipped from her.
One.
I looked up, and she was right in front of me, frowning at me, as she scratched her nose, flicking her glasses back up.
She asked, “You okay?” She looked around. “Were you talking to someone?”
“What?”
Lie, Jo. Do what you’re best at. I forced a smile at my roommate. Snark’s voice sounded in my head. “Stick to the truth, but be vague. It’s the best form of lying there is.”