Page 17 of Blurred Lines

"I have my suspicions too," I admit quietly. "But it's wiser not to narrow down on names unless we're sure."

"Fair enough."

My phone feels ice-cold in my hand. I need someone who knows how to navigate the murky backwaters, someone who can root out the whispers those corporate bastards try to bury. One name burns in my mind: Emily.

I recall her face, those big eyes, and the vulnerability rife in them. She has something about her, a quality that refuses to be shut down. But I also noted the detachment in her features.

As I'm standing, phone in hand, Flora comes up to me. "So, what's the next course of action?"

"I was wondering if …" my words trail off. I'm not sure if I can tell her I want to reach out to her beautiful sister.

For one, my interests are not entirely related to the vineyard. Though, with her being in control of most of it—if she were to get involved, it'd be easier to nail the vandalizers. We need the help of a strong journalist and social media expert.

She's a celebrity, by those standards. The girl has over three million followers on just one social media platform. She could give this place the validation it's screaming for.

If … only if she's willing to look past the ghosts floating over it. The biggest one being her father, of course.

Flora's lips quirk upwards, not in a smile, but something like a smirk. "You should call her."

Before I can ask her who she's talking about, she twirls on her boots and strides away.

Smart girl. She's right.

I have to talk to Emily.

6

FINN

"Hello?"

Against my better, more practical survival instincts, my heart does a strange thing and flutters. Maybe it's the sweetness of her voice. Maybe it's the lack of sleep on my part. At any rate, I regain my footing.

"Emily? Hi. This is Finn … we met earlier, though not under the best circumstances."

There's a pause for a beat. Then her reply comes. It's flatter now, as if she's trying to contain herself. "Hey, Finn. What's going on?"

"So, you're still here, right?"

"I am," she intones. "I was under the impression that I was meeting Caeleb. That seems to have … not happened. I'm just staying until some legal formalities are complete."

I make a mental note to tell Caeleb that if he's playing for keeps, he's doing good. He obviously has Emily's interest. There's something between them, and I'll be damned if I don't find out what it is. But there's time for that later. I clear my throat. "I'm sorry. I was hoping I could meet you sometime today. There's been an issue at the vineyard."

Her voice is tight. "I'm well aware. I just don't want to be involved."

My brows knit in a frown. "Emily, this isn't something that you can wish away. Legally, the responsibility of the vineyard rests on you. There's a big corporation involved, and your platform could help bring them down. If you stand and watch people suffer, that's … I'm sorry, but that's incredibly juvenile."

"I—" I can almost hear her flinch at the harshness in my tone. I sigh inwardly. "I'm sorry," I say, this time gently. "There's over a hundred jobs at stake. Even if you don't want the vineyard or anything to do with it, at least consider helping the workers?"

"Fine," she mutters after a beat. "Let's meet."

Something's wrong with my damned heart. Maybe it's age finally catching up with me. I'll have to get the bloody thing checked. "Great," I say. "I know a little café that has the best pancakes. Can I pick you up?"

"Give me the address," she replies immediately. "I'll meet you there."

Oh, take a stake and plunge it through my heart, she's got game.

"Sure."

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