Who does this guy think he is? I start to pull out headphones so I can listen to music for the rest of the ride, but not before I hear him add, “The two of you looked cozy in bed.”
My head snaps up. In bed?
“What are you talking about?”
“Pics in The New Olympian Inquirer. You and Archer all hot and heavy. Everyone in the city’s talking about it.”
What. The. Fuck.
I stuff my earbuds in for the last ten minutes and give a minimal tip when he drops me off at my townhouse. What kind of crap have they photoshopped now just to sell that gossip rag? I hurry over to a newsstand close to my building, still dragging my two heavy suitcases behind me as I go.
I don’t have to look hard to find it. The paper is front and center, the headline above the fold reading, “Mogul Adam Archer’s Engagement: The Inside Story” and smaller, Insider snaps of couple canoodling after their big celebration.
I snatch the paper off the stand. It’s me. I don’t know how, but it’s me. In the red bra I’m still wearing now. I’m lying sprawled across Adam’s chest, in my bra, in a bed.
What. The. FUCK?
“Hey lady, you gotta pay for that. You’re mangling it all up!”
I rip the paper down. It is indeed mangled in my clenched hands. Mouth pursed in fury, I fumble in my purse for some cash and slap it down on the counter of the little kiosk, then I spin away and look at the paper. There’s not just one picture, there’s several. It’s clearly me. In only one of the pictures are my eyes open the slightest crack, but I look super out of it.
Which confirms the suspicion that’s been niggling on the edge of my mind all morning. It was just so absurd, I didn’t think there was any way—
But it’s terribly clear now.
I was drugged.
I was fucking drugged last night.
At the engagement party? At Adam’s?
Did Adam Archer drug me?
Even as I think it, it sounds absolutely ludicrous. He’s New Olympus’s golden boy. Heir to a billion dollar empire.
But I’ve been drugged before…and this felt eerily similar. And Adam was at the Autumnal Ball. So was Logan. And a lot of other people were at both events, for that matter.
I rub a hand at my pounding temple. Then another terrifying thought strikes. Did anything else happen to me while I was unconscious? But I squeezed my thighs together and do a quick inventory of my body and nothing feels off or like it was…invaded. At least physically.
But how in the hell did the paper get the pictures? I look back down. Adam looks asleep in the pictures, too. So who took them? What the hell is going on?
All I know is that it’s time to get some answers. I’m tired of being in the dark.
I hold up my hand and call, “Taxi!”
“She insisted she see you, sir,” Adam’s harried assistant follows after me when I barge into Adam’s office. His corner office is on the top floor of Archer Industries, as spare and masculine as his apartment.
There are several other men in suits opposite Adam’s massive desk but he waves to his assistant. “It’s all right, Gladys. If you’ll excuse me, gentleman, I’ll need to conclude this meeting early. I have a pressing appointment.”
Adam nods my way as the gentleman get up and gather their things, immediately at his beck and call.
Adam walks over towards me, blond hair styled to perfection. “I’ve been trying to call you all day. Are you okay?”
I frown at the concern in his eyes. He seems absolutely genuine but something makes me shiver. I don’t know why goosebumps suddenly run up and down my arms at his proximity.
“You have?” I pull out my phone, only now realizing it’s dead.
“I’ve had my publicist trying to get ahead of it. I can’t believe Rachel would do this to us.”
I blink. “Wait, what? Rachel?”
Adam stares at me a moment, before saying slowly, “What do you think happened last night?”
He urges me to come in and take a seat. I feel a little like I’m being herded, but I do sit down.
He offers me a bottle of water. For a second I stare at it, remembering when he offered me water last night.
“I think I was drugged,” I finally say, carefully watching his reaction.
He wipes a hand down his face and looks towards the window before softly cursing. “I can’t believe she would go that far…but you did seem out of it. When you wandered into my room, it was like you were sleepwalking but I couldn’t wake you up. You just climbed into bed with me and it seemed better to just let you rest there.”
His head snaps back to me, hands up. “I was a perfect gentleman. I didn’t do anything. We just slept. But Rachel must have come in at some point and taken those horrible pictures. And gods, if she drugged you to make you so out of it just so she could get the shots…”
I shake my head. “None of what you’re saying makes any sense. Why would Rachel do any of that? She’s my best friend.”
Adam cocks his head to the side. “Is she? I’ve gotten to know her a little in the past few weeks while you were out of town, to help me with planning and coordinating meetings with Belladonna.” Adam reaches out and puts a hand on my thigh. It feels wrong and I pull away. It could just be because anyone besides Logan touching me feels wrong. Adam lets me pull away without comment, then continues on about Rachel.
“To me, it’s felt like she’s jealous of you. She complained about how you’re always getting all the attention, even when you weren’t there. She said your friendship was always about you and never about her. I don’t know, I can only guess. But it was definitely her who sold the pictures to the Inquirer. I had my people look into it. Maybe it was just for the money. She sold them for half a million dollars.”
All the air heaves out of my lungs at his words. Half a million dollars? Holy shit. That’s enough money to tempt anybody.
But still, Rachel? I’ve known her for years. I thought we were…friends.
Though maybe that was all in my head. Maybe in reality I was just her boss who she put up with because, well, I was paying her salary. And when a better opportunity came along…
I stand up and turn away from Adam. “I need to go.”
It’s time for that long, hot bath I never got. I need some time to clear my head and try to untangle the truth from fiction. If that’s even possible at this point.
Twenty-Nine
22 Years Ago
Logan
“Yeah, you better run! Run home to mommy!”
I flee up the steps of my trailer home and make it inside right as a rock hits the door behind me. Bastards!
I slam the door shut and put my back against it, breathing hard. They’ll leave me alone now that I’m home, but it’s really only putting it off until tomorrow.
Caleb, Pete, and Pete’s brother Paul are these giant assholes from school who live in the same trailer park but have somehow decided they’re better than me. Really there’s just more of them and Pete got held back a year so they’re all giant fucks even though we’re all just twelve.
I thunk my head back against the flimsy wooden barrier. But at least for tonight, I’m safe.