Griffin nods at me and then makes eye contact with Maria before we leave. He’s already on another call before the door closes.
“He’s trying to dig up dirt on Dennis Vincent. He’s been on his phone all morning. Something about CCTV and a burner cell phone number,” Maria says as we walk back toward the elevators.
“Oh,” is all I can manage again.
Griffin’s doing everything he can to help Reed. The thought settles the creeping dread that’s sitting low in my gut, but only marginally.What if he can’t find enough evidence? What if we can’t prove it was them? What if they release the video before we do?
“I need to call Stuart.”
The flicker of an idea I texted him about at Suze’s could amount to nothing. But I need to find out. He only replied afterward with a short text saying, “I will ask her.” So I have no idea if it’s even useful or not. But I have to try. I can’t sit around all day and do nothing.
The next few hours are the slowest of my life as I try Stuart and Reed’s phones over and over. Reed’s is switched off, and Stuart’s is permanently engaged whenever I try, his voicemail so rammed full that I can’t leave a new message.
“This is hopeless,” I say to Maria as she places yet another latte down on the table in front of me. My mouth waters at the idea of drinking it. But at this rate, I won’t sleep for a decade.
“I switched to decaf four mugs ago.” Her lips lift into a soft smile as she sees me eyeing up the mug.
“You’re an angel,” I say without thinking, realizing my mistake the second the word leaves my lips. “Oh, God,” I groan, dropping my face into my hands. “What’s he doing, Maria?Howis he doing?”
She picks up a remote and points it to the large flat screen TV on the wall of their living area. “There’s one way to find out. You can’t speak to him. But you can still see him.”
The screen lights up and Maria flicks through a few channels before she gets to a news segment.
“Stop,” I cry as I hold my hand up, my eyes glued to the screen. To the smoky-quartz eyes belonging to the face that the camera is focused on.
He’s beautiful. Reed Walker is undeniably beautiful.
Maria sits down next to me and we watch in silence as Reed answers the female news anchor’s questions with ease. He even smiles at one point, his eyes creasing at the corners. It looks so effortless, so genuine. But I can tell from the way his teeth are pressed ever so slightly harder together, and his eyes are super focused with very little blinking, that it’s his practiced, public face he has on.
The Reed I know smiles with his jaw looser because it often turns into a chuckle after a few seconds. A chuckle that sets an army of butterflies into full victory celebration in my stomach. And he blinks more. The golden flecks in his eyes dance like they’ve come alive, and his long dark lashes fan over them, creating an intoxicating combination of dark, then gold, dark, then gold.
The Reed I know is more relaxed. Freer.
At least he was.
I haven’t seen him look that way since the day I left him.
The day I walked out and ruined everything.
“I’m going to try calling Stuart again.” I jump up from the sofa before Maria can stop me. The concern on her face for me has grown with my tears after each unanswered call. But I can’t stop. I have to know what’s going on. Maybe Stuart knows more about the video. Or about what’s happening with the investigation into Dennis.
I pull my phone from my pocket and hit re-dial.
It rings.
“Thank God,” I mutter, walking into the kitchen.
“Harley, hi.”
“Stu.” I fall onto one of the stools at the kitchen island in relief at hearing his voice. “What’s going on? Is Reed okay? Have you heard anything about Graham and Dennis? Maria said Bea was at the press conference this morning. What did she want? Did she say anything about the video?”
“Okay, calm down.” Stuart blows out a breath, then laughs softly. “He said you talk a lot when you’re nervous.”
“Is he doing okay?” I whisper, laying my hand over my chest where my heart is beating in a frantic rhythm.
“He’s fine. He is. He’s worn out. We were up half the night. But he’s okay, Harley. I swear to you. In fact, it’s the best I’ve seen him since this whole thing started.”
“Really?” My spine straightens as I process Stuart’s words.