Her smirk deepened. “Watch that heart of yours, Prim.”
I stilled.
“Now get out of my office.”
“You must have some kind of magic in that voice of yours,” Poppy said, “because there’s no way in hell Quinn would have ever backed down.”
“It’s a good story. And you know she’d die before letting Harrison cover it.”
Poppy grabbed my arm, halting me. “You did all this for him, didn’t you? You are in love with him.”
I couldn’t meet her gaze. “I haven’t sorted through my feelings yet, Poppy. All I know is this is the first time I’ve been able to breathe since getting that assignment. There’s no way I could ever write a scoop on him. Use him like that. He’s a good person, Poppy.”
Her lips curved. “Well… good for you, Prim. No one ever gets a happy ending around here.”
I giggled, waving a hand at her.
“I’m serious, Prim,” she said. “Look at me. Quinn. Brinley. It’s like this blog is cursed when it comes to love. We can write about it, but never truly have it. If this actually works out, then I really am happy for you. But you should listen to what Quinn said about protecting your heart.”
With that, she walked away, back to her cubicle, leaving a mound of thoughts piling up in my head.
The Interview
“I can’t believe you talked me into this.”
Prim reached for my hand on the stick shift and squeezed. “I can’t write a story unless I know the details. Talking with him is the only way.”
We were driving through the countryside toward my childhood home I never cared to go back to. A home that in no way fit the mold of what a home should be. The walls weren’t filled with happy memories. They held secrets and lies. Heartache and pain.
“I have a few days to get this story right. His name’s already popping up on every article I see in my newsfeed,” she continued as she scrolled through her phone.
“Everyone loves a good scandal.” The knots in my stomach grew tighter with every mile that brought me closer to having to see him again.
“You can say that again.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Harrison’s name flashed across the screen when I pulled it out. No doubt, he was calling about my father. A subject I wasn’t yet ready to talk with him about. I knew he’d want the exclusive. Finding out I gave it to Virago would piss him off.
“Have you told him?” Prim said, eying the screen.
I set the phone down. “No.”
“He’s going to want this story.”
“I know.”
“How mad will he be?”
“Plenty. But he’ll get over it. If there’s one thing I can count on when it comes to Harry, it’s that when he cares for someone, it’s forever. Through every up and down. He’ll get over it once the story blows over and a new one comes along.”
My father’s house came into view. A sprawling estate with horse stables my mom used to tend to when she was alive. It was weird, seeing the house after so many years away. It looked somewhat sadder than before. Even the flowers seemed to be in a permanent hunch.
“Wow,” Prim said as she leaned forward, staring up at the two-story home. “You grew up here?”
I leaned forward with her, trying to see the place through her eyes. “Yeah.”
“It’s magnificent.”
My head tilted a little. I guessed I could see it. The rounded windows. The green ivy growing up the aged stone walls. It was something out of an old English movie. The house my mother had always dreamed of, given to her by my father as a wedding present.
My father’s mistress came down the steps in a sheer pink robe with fur along the hem, high heels clicking against the stone walkway. Billionaire. A Barbie fresh out of the box. It didn’t surprise me that he’d chosen someone like her considering how she somehow finagled her way into his private box at game, just as she had with his deep pockets.
And now, I thought, my mother’s home is nothing more than a plaything for his playthings.
“Grayson,” Marissa said with a snide smile. “It’s been so long.”
Not long enough, I thought.
“And you must be Primrose.” Marissa eyed Prim as if she had a disease.
Prim offered her a sugary smile.
“Come. Alan’s eating in the garden. It seems he prefers the company of flowers to my own.”
“Is she…?” Prim whispered as we followed Marissa up the steps.
“Our age? Yes.”
“And…”
“The mistress? Another yes.”
Prim blew out a hard breath. “He really has nerve, doesn’t he?”
“Too much, perhaps.”
Dad was scrolling through his newsfeed on his laptop in the middle of Mom’s garden just as Marissa had said. He didn’t stand to greet us when we approached. Only waved us over, motioning for us to sit. Surrounded by a bowl of fruit and a plate covered with eggs and hollandaise sauce.
So he still eats the same thing every morning.
“It seems I’m in the spotlight again,” he said as he closed his laptop. “I suppose all press is good press, Grayson. Look at you.”
A subtle burn thrown my way that fizzled out the moment it made contact. Unlike him, I didn’t hide from my past.
“Having Marissa here won’t help you fix this. All it takes is for one paparazzi to get a snap of her here, and everything we’re working toward will be a bust.”
“Marissa is only here to gather her things.”
“In her pajamas?” I scoffed. “She doesn’t appear to be leaving any time soon.” I pointed to the upstairs window where she sat scowling down at us.
“That’s why I have you here. Maybe you can talk her into leaving.”
My teeth ground together.
Prim pulled out her laptop, then set it on the table. “I have a series of questions for you,” she said as her hand reached under the table and squeezed mine. “Some will be tough to answer, but they’ll all help in the long run.”
“I know how an interview works,” my father snipped, giving Prim a long look down his nose.
“Dad,” I snapped. “We’re here to help. If you’re going to be an asshole, then we’ll gladly walk away from this.”
“Go ahead. You think I don’t have others lined up who want this story? I already spoke with Harry. He’s on standby. He was pretty upset to learn you gave his story to Quinn. I suppose your substitute father will have a few choice words to say when he sees you again.”
I stood up so hard the chair flew back. “This was all just a fucking game, wasn’t it? Why even come to me?”
“Sit down, Grayson,” he said with a dismissive tone. “Always with your emotions. I came to you because despite what you may think of me, I do indeed wish to reconcile with you. What better way than to offer you first dibs on such a hot story?”
“You have a twisted way of thinking, old man.” I glanced at Prim, who looked caught between us. “We don’t have to do this. We can go.”
“No!” she said quickly. She grabbed my hand, pulling me down. “I want to write this.” She fastened her attention to my dad. “I think we all just got off on the wrong foot. I know you don’t know me, and I know how big it is of you to allow me to be the one to cover it. I appreciate you taking the time and giving me this opportunity.”
“See,” Dad said to me. “She knows how this all works. Maybe you should take some pointers.”
I bit my tongue.
For the next hour, Prim directed the interview seamlessly. It didn’t surprise me, though. Prim was a force to be reckoned with. If anyone knew the allure she had, it was me. It seemed Prim was a born natural for dealing with difficult people. She conducted the interview as if she’d done this a hundred times. Took notes while recording. Engaged with him. After about half an hour of him biting like a great white, he settled down once he knew he couldn’t rouse her. At one point, she even had him laughing, a sound I hadn’t heard since before
Mom got sick. I felt like I was meeting a new man. Someone who actually had feelings buried beneath all his transgressions.
He was open to a fault. Admitting his affairs were his own weakness with feeling inept. Admitting that even though he loved every one of the women he married, the hole left behind from Mom’s death could never be filled. I’d never heard him talk about her the way he spoke about her now. When he’d cheated on her, it was from his own fear.
He said, “Losing her was perhaps the singular most devastating moment of my life. A moment from which I have yet to recover.”
It was that admittance that had me pausing.
Could he truly be sincere in wanting to change? Was it even possible?
“I think I have all I need,” Prim said as she pressed stop on the recorder. “I want to thank you again for inviting me into your life.”
She was putting her stuff away when Dad said, “You two aren’t leaving just yet, are you?”
“We should be getting back,” I said, helping Prim. The sooner I could leave, the better.
“But I was thinking you could stay for dinner. It has been a while.”
My smile tightened. “Look, Dad. Today was a step in the right direction, okay? Let’s not overdo it.”
His nod was slow acceptance. With an inhale, he stood from his seat, tucking his emotions away. “You’re right. I suppose I should work on getting Marissa to leave. Thank you again,” he aimed to Prim. “I look forward to reading your piece.”
It wasn’t until we were on the main road that Prim finally spoke. “Why didn’t you stay?”
I thought about how best I could explain it to her. “When I was young, my dad was away a lot. Always at some meeting, game, or some fundraiser. And my mom, she would make up all sorts of excuses for him. Always painting him to be something he wasn’t. Some great man I knew from afar. And when he was home, it was like he was never really there, you know? He lived in his office. Hell, sometimes he even slept in there.
“There’s this memory I have of him I can’t ever shake. Once, when I was sixth grade, I was going through a basketball phase. Thought I’d be the next Michael Jordan. It was finals, and Mom urged me to ask him to come. He’d yet to appear at any of my games, not that it mattered. I never expected him there. But she all but begged me to ask him. Assured me he’d come if only I showed I wanted him there.
“So I asked. And I’m sure you can guess how the story ends.”
“He didn’t show?”
“Nope. And the kicker was, I hadn’t been the one disappointed. It hadn’t even fazed me. Mom took it the hardest. That night, I found her crying in the kitchen. She tried to play it off, but I’d known. I’d been so young, yet I’d still known. That was when she’d first found out about the affair. Or at least, I believe she had. I hadn’t known then she had already been undergoing treatment.” I seethed from the inside out. “Moments like that aren’t just erased or forgiven because an old man finds himself in one too many pickles. If he means it, and I mean truly means it this time, then he’s going to have to be the one to put in the work.”
A quiet second ticked by, then she leaned over and kissed my cheek. The moment her lips touched my skin, it was as if all the heavy, tarry emotions weighing me down were lifted. Singed away by her light.
“I wish she could have met you, Prim,” I said, my chest expanding with more emotion than I could understand. “She would have… she would have loved you.”
“I have a feeling I would have loved her, too.”
Later, after Prim fell asleep at her laptop, I moved it onto the coffee table, then carried her to her bed. Tucked her under the covers, then kissed her forehead. Though I knew I could stay over, I needed to walk. Walking always helped me sort through things. So much had changed in my life in such a brief period of time.
And Prim…
The more time I spent with her, the more I knew I couldn’t be without her. There wasn’t any question I had fallen in love with her. It was as if someone had turned the light on. As if a blindfold had been removed. It was her laughter, and the blush that always filled her cheeks—the way her expressions changed as she wrote, as if she was living out each and every word she penned.
I was a goner for her, and for the first time in my life, I felt whole.
Daddy Issues
“Where’s Lover Boy?” Poppy asked as she sidled up next to me at the bar.
The soft notes of a piano trilled throughout the room, slightly shadowed by the din of ceremonious chatter. This was my first big event in New York. The night Quinn had stressed over and over not to, in her words, fuck up. All the big blogs were in attendance.
Including Stud.
“He’s mingling somewhere around here.” Just the mention of him roused a brilliant chiming song from my heart where he had found a place, quite possibly forever. Where his kisses and his words had branded a home.
Falling into the relationship with Grayson felt a lot like diving into a pool on a warm summer day. Refreshing. Exciting. Invigorating. Everything just clicked between us. An easiness I’d never felt with another human being before. I could talk to him about anything.
Ever since that day at his father’s house, things had been different between us. Not in a bad way. No. It was quite the opposite. If he wasn’t staying over at my place, then I was at his. We met for lunch. We shared pizza or tacos over movie nights.
And we grew closer physically, too.
Every waking minute we could spend together, we did. It was like I’d been starved my whole life only to just realize what food was.
When I’d do laundry with Poppy, I’d find some of his clothes mixed in with mine. The notes he’d scribble down while on calls in various places inside my apartment. It was like little pieces of our lives were slowly coming together, like a puzzle.
I found myself thinking about him constantly. Started doodling all over scraps of paper, seeing how our names fit together. Who we would be labeled as? Our names didn’t make for a fun mixing. Grayrose? No. Primson? A hard no.
And lately, I’d catch him looking at me occasionally with such intensity it nearly robbed the breath from me.
“Hmm. Trouble in paradise?” Poppy picked at the small umbrella doused in her drink before taking a sip of the fruity concoction.
“Exactly the opposite. This is his job, Poppy. He can’t very well be up my ass all night and keep up appearances.”
She scoffed. “Jesus, you don’t have to get so pissy about it.”
“I’m sorry.” I let out a pent-up breath. “I’m just… nervous.”
“About the article?”
My head dipped with concession. It went viral yesterday. And by viral, I meant it had already been viewed in the millions and shared in the high upper thousands. All my social media sites had blown up with followers. And to make matters even more crazy than they already were, I was linked to dating Grayson from the photos taken when we were out and about. A feat my sisters hounded me on when they found out through the media rather than through me.
It seemed nothing was secret when one went viral.
“You’re blowing up all over the place. What’s there to be nervous about?”
“Letting everyone down.”
Her arm slid over my shoulder. “Prim, you were cut out for this. But I get it. It’s an adjustment having everyone all up in your business. That’s what comes with dating tabloid royalty. Just don’t forget about me when those endorsements start trickling in.”
I laughed with her, though mine was weak.
“Come on.” She tugged on my arm. “You can’t hide here all night. You’re all the rage right now. Use that to your advantage. Mingle.”
She was right, and it was because of that reason I almost succumbed to a full-blown panic attack. It was one thing sitting behind a computer writing, but another entirely having to speak one on one with someone. And those someones weren’t just anyones. They were vultures, circling overhead, waiting for their next meal.
&nbs
p; I spent a good half hour faking smiles and answering questions about the article concerning Alan. I had to admit it was nice being complimented on my writing style. It was something I prided myself on, and to be among those who were the best of the best made me feel like maybe my dreams of coming to New York weren’t too farfetched.
Poppy left me in the midst of all the conversing to, and I quote, “Find her next dick vic.”
It wasn’t until I felt his touch on the small of my back that I let out the breath I had been unknowingly holding. I felt his lips caress my exposed shoulder and spun into his arms, hugging him to me.
“Ah, the happy couple,” I heard Harrison say from beside us.
Every fiber in my body tensed.
“It’s good to see Grayson in love. Something I thought I’d never witness,” he continued as I faced him. “I read your article.” He extended a hand, then shook when I gave him mine. “If I could, I’d steal you away from Quinn.”
“Over my dead body,” Quinn said from behind me. Her arm slid over my shoulder, then she pulled me close, raising her drink. “Prim here is my secret weapon.”
Alcohol dripped off her words and her breath, her body more lax than her usual stiff stance.
Harrison chuckled, the sound warm and earthy. “One of many you keep in that wicked arsenal of yours.”
She clinked her drink against his before focusing on Grayson. “I hear you’re keeping my girl up late into the night. Who’d have thought the notorious player had a heart after all? If it wasn’t for her, I think I’d make you my next headline. Turning a player into a stayer. That has a ring to it. Don’t you think, Prim?”
Every bone in my body stiffened to stone. Putrefied. Petrified.
“You run a piece like that, and you’re throwing off the gloves,” Harrison said, the warning in his tone accented by the firm press of his lips. “He’s been through enough, don’t you think, Quinny?”
“Oh, I’d only just be getting started.” She stepped up to him. “What was the saying?” She tapped on her chin. “Journalism over commitment? Whose words were those?” She hiccupped. “Oh, right. Yours.”
Virginal Headlines: Love Between The Headlines Page 20