Not that I blamed Connor. I would’ve done the same thing, but...fuck, I would’ve listened.
“I don’t know,” I said, internally cursing myself for the billionth time. “I should’ve deleted that stupid thing, but I’d honestly totally forgotten about it.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, hating that all those months ago Pepper and I had been drunk enough to create such a document. Okay, I wrote it, but it was venting. Connor had hurt me, and I was getting it off my chest in the only way I knew how—with words on paper and a wine-pouring sister at my side.
“Even without the article,” Eric chimed in. “Those pictures are damning, Ivy.”
I snapped my eyes to his, and he quickly raised his hands in defense. Pepper elbowed him in the side.
“No,” I said as he opened his mouth to most likely apologize. “You’re right,” I said, the gears in my brain spinning on overdrive. I bolted from my seat, instantly pacing the length of their couch. “Oh, I’m an idiot.”
Why had I assumed it couldn’t possibly be my photographer who snapped the photos of Connor?
Why had I so quickly thought it was some other vicious, money-hungry paparazzi that worked at the Seattle Chronicle.
Zach.
Of course, it was Zach.
He had access to my dropbox, too, where I automatically saved all my articles.
“Fuck, I’m an idiot!” I screamed, halting in my tracks.
Pepper rushed to my side. “Stop that,” she chided. “You are not.”
“Yes, I am,” I said, nodding. “I know who did it.”
“Your editor?” Eric asked.
“I had wondered, but no. Someone hand-delivered her the pictures and my article. Someone whose job was on the line just like mine.”
Pepper gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “No.”
Eric arched a brow, his eyes darting between us with absolute confusion on his face.
“My photographer,” I said.
Eric furrowed his brow. “That little dude that followed you around like a lost puppy and almost got into it with Connor at Club Thirty-Five?”
“That’s the one,” I said. “To be fair, he was assigned to me, and it was his job to blend into the shadows and capture anything newsworthy.” I shook my head. “But he crossed a line. I wasn’t with Connor that day after practice, so Zach shouldn’t have been there either.” A pain twisted sharp and searing in my chest.
Connor.
He’d been so angry with me. I really couldn’t blame him. All evidence—paired with my past—pointed to me being the awful, headline-chasing bitch I swore I’d never be.
He should’ve known better.
My heart screamed and raged from the depths of the shattered pieces that remained after Connor had turned his back on me and stormed away, taking Hannah with him.
Watching her tear-streaked face silently plea through the window as Connor drove away, was a pain I’d never experienced. Hurt worse than when Dad chose the Sharks over Pepper and me too many times to count during holidays and graduations. Hurt worse than losing our mother, because at least with her, we were prepared. There wasn’t enough time in the world to prepare me for losing Hannah, for letting her down, for letting them both down.
“What do you need?” Pepper asked, squeezing my hand.
I sucked in a sharp breath, letting it out slowly to cool my rage. “This,” I said, gripping her hand before dropping it. “Thanks for having me over for the vent sesh. I needed it.”
“And now?” Eric asked. “What happens?”
“Now,” I said, sighing as I scooped my purse off their entryway table. “I need to have a serious conversation with my editor.”
“What about Zach?” Pepper asked.
“Yeah,” Eric added, standing to hold the front door open for me. “You want me to come with you and make sure he never crosses a line again?”
I forced a soft smile, wishing I wasn’t so damn hollow at the moment to appreciate Eric’s support. He may be my brother-in-law, but he was genuinely a good man who fought for justice on any scale. “No thanks, Iron Man,” I said. “But I seriously appreciate the offer.”
“Anytime,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can talk to Connor too—”
“No,” I cut him off, clenching my eyes shut at the sound of Connor’s name. “He wouldn’t listen to me…he didn’t want to hear the truth.” I sighed. “He wouldn’t believe me.” I shook my head. “This is my mess. I’m going to clean it up.”
Eric nodded, and Pepper flashed me a proud smile from where she stood by his side. I was lucky to have them as my family, but my heart ached for the one that had chosen me—Hannah and…
Forcing the thoughts down, I said my thank yous and goodbyes again and headed toward my car.
Thirty minutes later, I rode the elevator at the Seattle Chronicle, each ding revving up the anger boiling my blood. By the time the doors opened, I was livid. Betrayal and hurt twisted together, turning my stomach as I stomped toward my desk.
It took Zach all of two seconds to register my presence and four more to realize my mood. He bolted so fast from his chair that it rolled all the way back against the wall. “Ivy,” he said, his hands raised. “You—”
“No,” I snapped, stopping within inches of his face. “You don’t get to talk until I ask you to.”
He narrowed his gaze but kept his mouth shut.
“What in the hell were you thinking? Following my...following Connor? Sneaking around in my dropbox? Were you that fucking desperate?”
“Yes!” He threw his arms in the air. “I did what I had to in order to keep our jobs! Which is way more than you’ve been doing. Our expiration date was in days!”
I gaped at him, my hands trembling with adrenaline. “Are you kidding me? I’ve been busting my ass! I’ve gone to every celebrity event there has been in the last few months, and each time I delivered a good story!”
“Good,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “Not great. Not what they wanted.”
“They didn’t want this—”
“They did,” he said. “Shelby ate it up.”
“It’s not true,” I said. “Not one word of it is true! Even your pictures are a lie.”
He flinched. “Says who?”
“Me.” I glared at him. “Connor wasn’t buying drugs. He’s clean. He doesn’t even like taking vitamins! He was saving his sister. Being a fucking hero. Not the dirtbag you painted him to be.”
Zach rolled his eyes. “You’re so blind. I thought you were above falling for celebrity athlete trash.”
“You’re pathetic,” I said, practically hissing. “Desperate and pathetic,” I added. “My stories were keeping us here if you hadn’t noticed. And now, after what you’ve done…” I sighed, the rage flowing out of me. I gave him one last glare before turning my back on him.
“Ivy!” He called, but I didn’t turn around, he wasn’t worth my time anymore. “What are you going to do?”
“Fix this.” I jabbed the elevator button, sliding through the doors with a terrifying determination.
He stopped the doors before they closed. “You’re not serious. Ivy, you can’t.”
“Watch me.” I eyed his hand, the threat in my eyes clearer than when a Shark laid out an opponent on the ice.
He drew it away, eyes wide and panicked as the doors slid home.
A few floors up and I was standing in front of Shelby’s office door, terrified to knock.
Do what’s right. Not easy.
That was my entire mission statement, right? The reason why I wanted to report on the good and surprising and delightful in an industry of darkness and grime.
“Come in!” Shelby hollered once I’d managed to knock.
I shut the door behind me.
“Harris,” she said, barely looking up from her desk. “What can I do for you?”
“Print a retraction.”
Her eyes snapped up to mine. “Excuse me?”
“You accepted a fals
e article from a source that wasn’t me.”
She sat back in her chair, folding her hands together on her desk. “Explain.”
“Zach,” I said, waving behind me like the traitor was outside the door. “He followed my friends without my permission or request, and he took those photos—”
“Just because he didn’t clear it with you doesn’t make it false.”
“No,” I said. “But the context is. Connor was there to help his sister, not because he’s ever touched drugs.”
She tilted her head.
“His sister is off-limits, too. Completely off the record,” I added for good measure.
“And the article?”
I sighed. “That was from my personal files and should’ve never seen light. Zach abused our shared space, stole it, and made major edits.”
Shelby stood and walked around her desk to lean on it, arms crossed. “This is…troublesome, especially given the calls we’ve been taking from the Sharks’ head of PR.”
“If you would’ve checked with me first, this wouldn’t have happened.”
She narrowed her eyes. “It’s not my responsibility to babysit infant reporters,” she snapped. “The photos and article matched up. It had your name on it. Came from your email—”
“Well, it wasn’t me. Retract it. Now.”
She arched a perfectly trim eyebrow at me, pursing her bright-pink lips.
“If you don’t,” I said, never losing her gaze. “I will find a paper who will print the truth.”
Shelby tilted her chin up, surveying me before she finally tsked. “It’s a shame this happened,” she said. “You’re finally sounding like the reporter I always knew you could be.”
“Shame.” My stomach sank, but I’d known coming in here I wouldn’t walk away with my job.
Not with the demands I’d served. I could’ve easily let this lie—Connor had already ended us without hearing the truth—but that wasn’t me. And he deserved to have the truth printed. The reality known that he was a good and incredible man, every bit the Sharks’ power player. And an amazing father to Hannah. Not some junkie pro-athlete looking for his next fix.
“You sure you want to do this?” She asked, giving me the opportunity to save my ass, to put my dream job over Connor’s reputation.
The choice was easy.
Not just because I loved him more than I’d ever loved anyone in my life—despite him crushing my heart—but because it was right.
“Retract it,” I said. “As soon as possible.”
She shook her head. “It’ll be live by five a.m.”
“Thank you.” I reached for her door.
“Harris?” She stopped me one step out of it.
“Yeah?”
“Tell Zach to collect his things, too.”
I smirked. “It’ll be my pleasure.”
A dark chuckle left her lips. “I’m not looking forward to competing with you at another paper.”
I nodded and shut the door behind me. The compliment was a professional courtesy, but I couldn’t think that far ahead. It hadn’t sunk in that this job was no longer mine—the paper of my dreams, gone.
“Pack your shit,” I said to Zach as I emptied my desk.
“I can’t believe you chose him over your fucking career,” he said, throwing things into his black satchel.
“I didn’t choose him,” I said, hefting a small box into my arms. “I chose the truth,” I said, eyeing him. “That’s why I’ll succeed in this business, and why you’ll fail.” I spun on my heels and stepped into the elevator, making sure the doors closed before he could try and ride down with me.
This wasn’t an employee spat that would be easily solved.
He’d betrayed my trust and crossed a severe personal line.
By trying to save our jobs, he’d cost them.
And while it stung to exit the building I’d worked years to earn a spot in, a peace settled over me.
The truth would be live soon enough, and Connor’s career and his adoption process with Hannah should be unmarred.
That was worth more than any dream job ever could be.
“How is she acting?” I asked, my cell phone pressed to my ear.
“Sad,” Faith whispered, the chaotic chatter of the arena rumbling in the background. “You should be here. He hasn’t explained everything to her yet. She’s confused and angry.”
A knife twisted in my chest.
Hannah deserved to know why Faith was the one watching the game with her, and not me. Why Faith had taken up the spot of babysitter when Connor simply couldn’t be there, and not me.
“I can’t risk running into him.”
“That’s weak,” Faith said, and she sounded so much like Eric in that moment I almost laughed.
It had been ten days since the retraction and while I had hoped that would be enough to at least merit a call from Connor, it apparently hadn’t been. And with everything that had happened between us, I wasn’t sure if I could look into his brown eyes without crumbling completely.
“She deserves to at least hear an explanation from you,” Faith said. “We’re here. The game will start in a half hour so your chances of seeing him off the ice are slim.”
Game six and the Sharks were down one. If Boston won tonight, they took the cup.
I sighed. She was right. I couldn’t be another woman who simply exited her life with no explanation. My own fear was hurting her, and that wasn’t acceptable.
“I’ll be there in two minutes,” I said.
“Two minutes? Where are you?”
“The player’s lot,” I said, holding back a dark laugh. I’d driven here a half hour ago, the need to see Hannah overwhelming until my fear had taken hold.
“Good,” Faith said. “Smart woman. Get in here. Where you’re needed.” She hung up, and I pocketed my cell. She was sassier than her brother, which made me love her even more. I knew Hannah was in great hands, but she was right. Hannah needed me.
Whether her Uncle did or not.
Still, it hadn’t stopped me from slipping on the jersey he’d given me as a gift. The first time I’d donned his name and number in a pathetic attempt to prove to him I was worthy...of at least being listened to. Not that I planned on seeing him.
Part of me hoped for it.
Another part of me was terrified of it.
Ten minutes, a key to Pepper’s office, and Faith’s help later, Hannah stepped through the door, the light in her green eyes dulled, angry even.
I’d never seen her so sad or mad, not even when she was left at her Uncle’s with a note and some clothes.
“Hannah,” I said, dropping to my knees before her. “I’m so—”
“You left,” she said, chewing on her lip the way I did when I was holding back words. “You disappeared…and didn’t say anything.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, my heart clogging my throat. I thought it was completely broken after what Connor had said, but that wasn’t true. Hannah held the power to ruin me, and she had every right to do so. “I should’ve come and spoken with you sooner. I didn’t want to leave you,” I said. “I promise. It’s the last thing I wanted.”
“Then why did you?”
I licked my lips, fighting back tears. “Your Uncle Connor and me…” Damn, I should’ve thought out what to say, how to explain. I was failing horribly. “We had a fight. A misunderstanding, really,” I said, trying not to grumble. “And it was my fault. Not his,” I added. “So please don’t be angry with him. It’s his job to protect you.”
“So?” she said, her little brows pinched. “You keep me safe.”
“I know,” I said. “I will always keep you safe. But, for him, the best decision right now is for…space.”
“From me?”
“No!” I reached for her and almost cried in relief when she let me hug her to my chest. “No, Hannah Banana. Not space from you. He needs space from me.”
“Can’t you both just say sorry?” She asked, her voice muffled as
she clung to me.
“I did,” I said. “Sometimes sorry isn’t enough.”
“But you love him.”
“I do.” I nodded. “I always will. Just like I’ll always love you.”
“But you can’t be with me?”
I bit my lip, tears coating my eyes despite my efforts to choke them back. “Not today. Not for a while.”
If ever.
The words I couldn’t say shredded my heart.
I wasn’t sure Connor would ever let me back into her life. Not when I’d come so close to losing her for him.
“But I won’t ever stop trying, okay?” I cupped her little cheeks, swiping her tears away with my thumb.
“Promise?”
“I promise,” I said, putting my hand over my heart. “Until that happens,” I said, clearing my throat and forcing a smile. I pulled out my cell and tilted my head at her. “Mark the moment?”
She nodded, wiping at her nose before tucking against me to look at the screen. “Mark the moment,” she repeated.
Our faces filled the frame, both red eyed and raw noses and broken smiles. But hope shined in her eyes more than mine as I clicked the button.
I hated the crack in my chest that told me that would be the last time I held her close.
“I have to take her to the family section,” Faith said, her hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “But you need to know,” she whispered so Hannah couldn’t hear. “Connor told Coach weeks ago that he loved you. Didn’t want him in the dark if things turned more serious between you two...”
“What? How do you know that?”
“Eric told me.” She pressed her lips together. “Knowing that, maybe you should try to talk to him again.”
I nodded, watching as she led Hannah out of the office, and away from me, each step hurting that much more.
I stood in the hallway debating watching the game, too. But I didn’t want to watch the game. I wanted Connor. I knew I should leave, but I wasn’t capable.
Not after what Faith had told me.
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