Apparently she did miss the story because no rational person could misunderstand the gravity of what I told her. “We’re being sued and that jackass who cheated on his wife is calling me a liar.”
“It can’t be the first time someone has sued the newspaper over one of your stories,” Carly said. “I refuse to believe that. You’ve pissed off so many people you could give actual murderers a run for their money in the hate department.”
I scowled. “It’s not the first time someone has threatened to sue because of one of my stories,” I said. “It is the first time my boss is worried enough to essentially ground me, though.”
“You just spent several weeks busted down to sports,” Carly pointed out.
“Yes, but that was different,” I argued. “I was busted down to sports because Tad was being a douche. I always expect him to be a douche. This is the father of a missing girl who went out of his way to scream and yell at the publisher in the middle of a potential kidnapping.”
“So?”
“So why is the father of a missing girl going after a reporter when he should be looking for his daughter?” I asked.
Carly wrinkled her nose. “Wait, are you saying you’re angry because the father is going after you instead of looking for his daughter?”
“Yes.”
“And this has nothing to do with your reputation being on the line?” Carly pressed, dubious.
“My reputation is always on the line,” I answered. “People fear me. I encourage that.”
“They also laugh at you,” Lexie pointed out.
“Thank you.” I’m pretty sure I hate everyone today.
“I think your head is all over the place, Avery,” Carly said. “You say you’re upset about this father, but it’s obvious you’re upset anyone would dare question your ethics. You might dislike this father and wonder why he’s doing what he’s doing in the middle of a crisis, but you’re clearly angry about something else.
“Now, I know you like to win,” she continued. “I like it when you win, too. Duncan getting the best of you has to hurt. On a normal day you would be plotting his downfall, though. Why aren’t you doing that?”
I had no idea how to answer.
“Ooh, you hit a nerve,” Lexie said, flopping on her mat and crossing her legs. “Why are you different today, Avery? Are you worried you did something wrong when you got your story?”
“I am not worried I did something wrong,” I clarified. “I’m worried … .” I broke off and licked my lips.
“Oh, now I’m dying to know,” Carly said. “What did you do?”
“It’s not something I did,” I said finally. “It’s something Eliot said.”
“What did he say?” Lexie asked. “By the way, if he ever tells you he’ll die if he doesn’t have sex he’s making that up. That’s a guy thing and it’s not true. I looked it up on the Internet. There are some really interesting photos, in case you’re interested.”
“I got it,” I said, rolling my neck until it cracked.
“Oh, this must be serious,” Carly said. “What did Eliot say that has you so out of whack?”
“This shouldn’t bother me,” I said, frustration pouring out of my pores along with the nonstop sweat and irritation associated with hot yoga. “Before I interviewed Bridget Dalton yesterday, though, he said something that’s been bugging me ever since.
“He apologized,” I continued. “Heck, he practically begged. It still bugs me that he said it, and I’m incredibly angry that he thinks it.” Whew. That felt good to get off my chest.
“You still haven’t told us what he said,” Carly reminded me.
“He warned me not to put my needs ahead of Bridget Dalton’s needs,” I answered. “He wanted me to make sure I didn’t terrorize a grieving and terrified mother just so I could get a story that no one else had.”
“So what?” Carly asked.
“So he thinks I’m a bad person,” I said.
“He doesn’t think that,” Lexie scoffed. “He loves you.”
“He also knows you,” Carly said. “He wasn’t warning you to watch what you said because he doesn’t trust you or thinks you’re mean. You tend to lose your head when you find a story you can’t let go of. You get obsessed and … I don’t know … forget your manners.”
I stilled. “You think I’m horrible, too,” I said, my heart flopping at the realization.
“That is not true,” Carly said, wagging her finger. “I did not say you were horrible. You just get tunnel vision, Avery.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose to ward off the oncoming headache and then pushed myself to my feet. “I’m walking home,” I said. “When Eliot gets here to pick me up, tell him I walked home.” My house was only a few blocks away. The walk – and break from this heat – would do me good.
“No, don’t go,” Carly said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’m not upset,” I said, refusing to meet her gaze. “Tell Eliot not to worry and I’ll see him at home.”
“Avery, I didn’t mean it,” Carly said. “I … I’m sorry.”
“I really wish people would stop apologizing for telling me the truth,” I said. “Apparently I’m a horrible person. I need to accept that. I probably deserved to have my story taken away.”
“Avery … .” Carly’s face twisted as Lexie grabbed her wrist and shook her head.
“Avery, you’re not a horrible person,” Lexie said. “You are mean and stubborn when you want to be, though. You’re also spoiled rotten. On the flip side, you’re loyal and diligent. I know you didn’t make a mistake in your story.
“Your real problem is that you’re also dramatic,” she continued. “You feel the need to be the center of attention right now because you think things are slipping away. They’re not slipping away. You’re just making that up in your head.
“You need to get a grip and realize this isn’t about you,” Lexie said. “This is about Sierra Jackson. She’s missing and you’re angry because you want to be the one to figure out where she is. Deep down inside you’re disappointed in yourself because you know you should want to find her for a different reason.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” I snapped.
“And yet you know I’m right,” Lexie said. “I’m not begging you to stay. You need air and to be by yourself. I’ve known you my whole life. I can read your moods.”
“Just tell Eliot I went home,” I said.
“No problem,” Lexie said. I didn’t miss the exaggerated eye roll she tossed in Carly’s direction. “I pity Eliot when he gets home.”
“I heard that!”
“You were meant to,” Lexie shot back.
Sadly, I pitied Eliot when he got home, too. My aggravation was taking on a life of its own, and he was going to be the only target available once I walked out the front door of Lexie’s studio.
13
I was in a mood when Eliot walked into my house two hours later. Given the expression on his face, it’s fair to say he was in a mood, too. Neither mood looked to be good.
“Why did you take off?” Eliot asked, not bothering with a greeting. “I thought we were going to go out to dinner together.”
“I’m not hungry,” I said, pushing myself up from the wicker basket I used to organize Blu-rays and DVDs and fixing him with a dark look. “Hello to you, too, by the way.”
Eliot frowned. “Hello, Avery. You look lovely this evening. I particularly like what you’ve done with your hair.”
I self-consciously ran a hand over my ponytail, cringing when I remembered how sweaty it was before I opted not to shower on my return home. I didn’t have to see my reflection to know I looked terrible. “Thank you so much for the compliment,” I shot back. “My hair looks like this because you made me go to hot yoga when I didn’t want to go.”
Eliot sighed, the sound long, low and frustrated. “Avery, what’s wrong? You weren’t exactly happy when I dropped you off, but now you’re bordering on crazy.
What happened?”
“Nothing happened.”
“I don’t believe you,” Eliot said. “I know you’re upset about losing the story to Duncan. I stopped at the newspaper office and told the publisher I was with you when you interviewed Bridget Dalton, by the way. I told him everything you wrote in that article was true.”
The admission both warmed me and ticked me off at the same time. “I didn’t ask you to stick your nose in my business.”
“Didn’t you? Wasn’t it you who showed up at my store crying this afternoon?”
“I didn’t cry,” I shot back. “I … had something in my eye.”
“Tears.”
“I don’t cry,” I said, scratching the back of my neck and jerking on my ponytail for good measure. “I’m not weak. I don’t cry.”
“No one said you were weak,” Eliot said. “Crying doesn’t make you weak. I was happy when you came to me and started crying. I thought you came to me because you needed me.”
“I did need you,” I snapped. “You then proceeded to dump me on Lexie because you didn’t want to deal with me.”
“That is not what happened and you know it! I had work.”
“I’m sorry I got in the way of your work,” I sniffed. “It won’t happen again.”
“Don’t do that,” Eliot said, wagging a finger in my face. “I hate it when you do that.”
“What am I doing?” I had no idea what was wrong with me. Actually, that wasn’t true. I was angry and needed to argue. Because I couldn’t yell and scream at my boss without getting fired … and I couldn’t yell and scream at a man whose daughter was missing without proving Eliot right about being an inconsiderate jerk … I was left with no one to yell at him but him.
“You’re feeling sorry for yourself,” Eliot said. “I dealt with the exact same thing when you got moved to sports. I know you’re upset. I’m sorry you’re upset. I didn’t do this to you, though. I can’t deal with you when you get like this.”
“Then don’t deal with me,” I said, instantly wishing I could pull the words back into my mouth. “No one ever said it was your job to deal with me.”
Eliot clenched his jaw and sucked in a steadying breath. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I’m going to utter thirty more mean things tonight before it’s all said and done,” I said, hating the way my eyes stung with unshed tears. I was angry, not sad. Now was not the time to cry, and for some reason that’s all I wanted to do. “We both know I’m inconsiderate and do stupid things. You shouldn’t have to put up with this.”
“I knew it,” Eliot hissed. “I knew you were still upset about what I said. I didn’t mean it. I said I was sorry.”
“I’m not upset!”
“You could’ve fooled me,” Eliot shot back. “Avery, don’t do this. Don’t pick a fight and make things ten times worse than they already are.”
We both knew it was too late for that. “I need time alone.”
“Fine,” Eliot said, shaking his head and moving toward the door. “I’m not coming after you to make up this time. If you want to apologize, you know where to find me. I’m not going to wait forever, though, so pull your head out of your ass and try being a grownup for five minutes.”
I momentarily focused on the hurt look on his face before he moved out of the living room. I wanted to call after him, but I couldn’t. I was too tired … too angry … too self-involved. I needed space, and apparently I wasn’t above hurting him to get it.
That made me feel worse – if that was even possible.
I CALLED in sick to work the next day. I was still feeling sorry for myself and I had no intention of putting up with Duncan’s smug attitude when I could happily stay at home and hide from the world.
I didn’t do one productive thing. I stayed in my fuzzy Star Wars pajamas, ate Star Wars SpaghettiOs and played LEGO Star Wars. That’s it. I was in my own little world.
When someone knocked on the front door shortly after noon it jolted me. I ran a hand through my snarled hair, inherently knowing it was a lost cause, and pulled open the door without looking to see who it was. My heart hoped for Eliot. I got Jake instead.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, self-consciously glancing at my outfit.
Jake pursed his lips as he looked me up and down. “I’m here to save you from yourself,” he said. “It looks like I may be too late, though.”
I scowled and stalked away from the door, throwing myself on the couch and reaching for my game controller as Jake closed the front door and sat next to me. “I’m fine. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Honey, you’re dressed in little kid pajamas and playing a children’s video game,” Jake said. “If you don’t need a babysitter, I’m not sure who does.”
“Ha, ha.”
“I wasn’t joking, Avery.”
“What are you even doing here?” I asked, focusing my eyes on the game even though I was keenly aware of Jake’s movements as he settled next to me. “Haven’t you heard about Duncan stealing my story?”
“I’ve heard all about it,” Jake said. “I heard that Daniel Jackson caused a scene and threatened the publisher. I heard that instead of standing up for you as he should’ve done, MacDonald cowered like a … well … a coward and did the exact wrong thing. I also heard you didn’t take it well. Now that I see you I think that was an understatement.”
“I’ll bet you’re glad you dodged that dating bullet now, huh?” I said, frowning when my Lego character blew into a hundred pieces. “Dammit!”
Jake blew out a frustrated sigh. “Avery, I … can you put the game controller down, please?”
“I’m busy.”
“Yeah, well you look crazy right now,” Jake said.
We lapsed into uncomfortable silence, me focused on my video game and Jake trying to think of a way to talk me off my ledge. Finally he couldn’t take the quiet any longer.
“I saw Eliot last night.”
My heart rolled and I accidentally threw my Lego hero off a cliff. “How was he?” I tried to sound nonchalant.
“He was at the tavern on Main Street,” Jake replied. “I went there to watch a game with a couple of my deputies. He was sitting at the bar by himself.”
“Did he leave by himself?”
“Do you really think he was out cheating on you after you kicked him out of your house?” Jake asked.
“I did not kick him out!” I didn’t mean to screech, but that’s how it came out.
Jake arched a dubious eyebrow. “He says you freaked out, picked a fight and kicked him out,” he said. “Looking at you and seeing how worked up he was, I’m leaning toward his version of events.”
“Of course you are,” I muttered, turning my attention back to my game. “Men stick together no matter how buttheaded it is for them to do so.”
“I’m pretty sure buttheaded isn’t a word,” Jake said.
“I’m pretty sure you’re a butthead.”
Jake grabbed the game controller and tossed it across the room. “Knock it off!”
Instead of flying off the handle – which was what I really wanted to do – I pressed the heel of my hand against my forehead and exhaled heavily. “You broke my controller.”
“You can buy a new one when I’m done shaking you,” Jake said. “Eliot was really upset last night.”
“Since when do you care about Eliot’s feelings?”
“Since you do,” Jake replied. “Avery, I’m not going to sit here and pretend I like seeing you with him. You and I can’t be together, though, and I want you happy. You don’t look happy and he looks miserable. In fact … .” Jake tugged on my hair so he could smell it and then made a disgusted face. “Get in the shower.”
“I don’t feel like taking a shower,” I said. “I don’t feel like doing anything but moping around. I know I treated Eliot poorly. I also know he wouldn’t cheat on me no matter what I said. I’m just … angry.”
“I can see that, Avery,” Jake said. “Do y
ou want to know your biggest problem?”
“Apparently I stink.”
Jake snorted. “You do stink,” he conceded. “You can fix that with a shower, though. Your biggest problem is that you don’t want to be vulnerable and Eliot makes you vulnerable. It kills me to see that sometimes, but I’m pretty sure he knows you better than I do now – at least in some ways.
“The way I know you better than him is a big one, though,” he continued. “I see what you’re doing here for what it is. You don’t want him feeling sorry for you because you’re doing enough of that for ten people. You hate it when people feel sorry for you.”
“You don’t know anything,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest as I slouched on the couch.
“I know you love him,” Jake said. “I know he loves you. I also know you’re a pain in the ass, but you’re good at your job. I don’t for a second believe that you made up what the mother said and I’m suspicious about the father, too.”
“Do you have any leads on Sierra?”
“No, and it’s very frustrating,” Jake answered. “National news coverage is picking up but we have absolutely no leads. We also have white trash parents and soap opera relationships. All of the adults seem more upset about what the other adults are doing. No one seems especially worried about the missing girl.”
“What are you going to do?”
“We’re going to keep doing what we’re doing and hope we catch a break,” Jake said. “It would be helpful if we had a tenacious reporter going through everyone’s private business and stirring things up. The one I have in mind is busy playing video games and stinking up the joint, though.”
“I can’t do anything,” I said. “MacDonald won’t let me until they prove I wasn’t lying. I’m stuck until then … and I don’t smell that bad.”
“You smell like dirty feet,” Jake countered. “The Avery I know wouldn’t wait for someone else to prove she was right. She would prove it herself and then tell everyone to ‘suck it’ while doing an annoying dance. Where is she?”
“I … .” I hate it when he has a point.
“Finish out your day sulking,” Jake instructed. “Then tomorrow get up and get back in the game … a real game, not this Lego one you’ve got going on here. You might want to figure out a way to beg Eliot for forgiveness, too.”
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