Page 13 of Love JD

“It’s your deal,” Hawk said, holding up his hands. “I’m just giving you the heads-up. Do me a favor, though?”

I slid a weary look his way.

Hawk slapped a twenty on the counter. “Give me a heads up if I need to jump ship.”

Fuck. I nodded, rolling the bottom of my water glass in circles on the wood surface. “Right.”

“Good luck,” he muttered, and with that, he was gone. Hawk never was one for pleasantries, which was what Azura and I liked about him. But in that moment, I found myself feeling bizarrely alone in the crowded pub that smelled like sickly sweet beer, fries, and a potpourri of different deodorants. I ran my finger over the closed file, thinking, but I couldn’t make my brain fit things together.

I didn’t know why things had been so jumbled lately. Making decisions felt like a chore. Stay in or go out? Order in or cook? Stay at home or travel somewhere new over the weekend? Text a friend or watch a show? It all felt… bland.

I’d already been to the gym that morning, but I thanked the waitress, left her a twenty of my own, and decided to lose myself in reps. At least then I could focus on something easily controllable.

“Zev?” a woman asked.

I turned, my mind swatting away my dour thoughts like a cloud of mosquitos. “Yeah?”

A young woman in her twenties pushed through the crowd to smile up at me. “Hi!” She had light brown hair cropped to her chin and enormous eyes behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. She looked tall, too, towering over several men in the room in her heels. “How are you?”

I looked around, wondering how she knew me. “Er, sorry, who are you?”

“I’m Talia from ScandalSphere. I can’t believe I ran into you here! Do you have a minute?” She had her phone held at her midline, and I suddenly realized what this was—an impromptu interview.

That marked a first for me. Ordinarily, I had to beat Azura’s reporter stalkers back with a spiked club, but I’d never had to deal with them on a personal level. That was, until I’d caught a fainting goat. Apparently, I’d been put on the tabloid map like a pushpin next to my sister.

I turned without a word and walked away.

“Mr. Brady!” Talia called out, following close behind and weaving through the crowd with frenzied determination. “Is it true you took Isla’s virginity? Was it consensual?”

For Christ’s sake. I’d effectively taken the rare, enticing Isla Valehart—heiress and product of a sordid affair—and fried her up with a side of seedy sex for the reporters to salivate over. I turned and gave her a glare that I knew turned plucky enthusiasm into wilted passivity.

It did the trick. She shrank down about two inches. “Mr… Brady…”

“No comment, and if you follow me, your boss is going to get a nasty summons in the mail.”

She closed her mouth. So, she really wasn’t on an official job, then. Perfect. “I’m leaving. Do not. Follow,” I reiterated.

Disgruntled, Talia the reporter tapped her phone to turn off the recording app and meandered back to her table. That was going to be a problem. It would likely all die down eventually, but not if I didn’t put some distance between Isla and me. The long-distance relationship that eventually puttered out was a solid plan, but only if I didn’t go anywhere near her.

As I exited the restaurant and walked out into the late afternoon with its garish sunlight and loud traffic, my phone rang.

I answered, hitting the unlock button on my rental car’s fob. “Hello?”

“Zev, hey, it’s Tristan.”

I pulled open the door and paused, twisting my features into surprise. “Uh, hey.”

“Listen, I just wanted to thank you for helping with Isla yesterday. I know that’s not usually your thing, but you stepped up, and I really appreciate it,” he said. I heard a busy street in the background of his call and had to wonder what had prompted the call.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” I replied honestly. I slid into the seat and punched the car to life.

“Well, no, but even still. Thank you.”

“Sure,” I said easily.

Tristan added, “If there’s anything I can do for you, just let me know. I mean it.”

I frowned. What in the Hallmark special? To deflect his sincerity, I joked, “You can get rid of Isla’s loser roommate. The asswipe wouldn’t even cancel his GeekCon tickets to help her stay off her feet.”

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