“Okay.” I look at my phone and start typing. Are you not getting my portion of the rent? I’ve been told it’s being taken care of.
That’s not the only thing.
Odd. What do you mean?
People want information.
My skin grows clammy. What kind of information?
Why don’t we talk about it? I don’t want anything out there that can embarrass you.
Then don’t talk to anyone, I respond.
A girl’s gotta eat and buy shoes.
“Are you all right?” Elliot asks, apparently having noted the scowl that I can feel giving me wrinkles before my time.
“Yeah. Just need to make a quick call.” I stand up and go inside. I know Elliot’s gaze is boring into my back, but I don’t want to talk to Caroline in front of him.
I drag in a few breaths. Information… Right. In order for information to be worth anything, someone has to be interested. But why would anyone want to know about me? My dad wasn’t that big as far as Ponzi schemers go.
Whatever Caroline’s planning, I don’t want any part of it. I’m going to nip it in the bud before she gets any more crazy schemes up her sleeve, or tries to drag Nonny into the mess like she’s threatened to before.
My old roommate picks up the phone immediately.
“Okay, you owe me,” she says without preamble.
“For what?”
“For not selling you out. I have offers.”
I roll my eyes. “Get real. Who would pay for information about me?”
“A lot of people.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Yeah. Because you have no offers.”
She snorts. “In case you forgot, you just married Elliot Reed, who is half-brother to Ryder Reed. Your husband is definitely a celebrity, sort of, which makes people curious. Don’t you check social media?”
“No.” I don’t do social media anymore. There was no point after Nonny and I left Lincoln City.
“Well, you’re something of a minor celeb now.”
I rest my hand on the crook of the arm holding the phone to my ear. “And there’s the key word: minor.”
“But during a slow news week, even a minor celebrity is worth something.”
“Like what? A latte?”
“They’re going to give me ten grand.”
I choke. “I’m not that interesting. I don’t buy it.” Before she can come up with more outrageous crap, I add, “And definitely no to paying you ten grand.”
“You’ll be sorry.”