I scroll through, starting to read some of the headlines out loud. “Jackson Barnett checks himself into rehab. Jackson Barnett moves to Belize. Jackson Barnett expecting secret love child with porn star, Sophie Swinney.”
I look up at Liz who is staring at the screen. “And you see the dates of all of these? All of the ones I just read were written within the past six months. They will write about me no matter what. At least with you, they got part of the story right.”
“How do you deal with it?” She asks.
I shrug my shoulders. “You just have to get really tough skin. I remember when I read the first article about me, and I threatened to sue the magazine. I wasted so much time and energy trying to fight it, and it got me absolutely nowhere. Finally, I took all of that anger and put it toward my career. That’s how I became such a good fighter.”
“So, you’re not mad at me?” She asks.
I pull her into my lap. “Not even a little bit.”
She leans forward pressing her forehead against mine. “I just don’t get how you’re so calm all the time. Nothing seems to rattle you. Well, nothing besides me. I seemed to make you pretty mad in the beginning.”
I smile. “I guess I only let the important things rattle me.”
“So, I guess we are a tabloid couple now, huh?” She asks.
“I guess so. The good thing is that none of those photos were taken here at home. Maybe they haven’t quite tracked us here yet.”
She leans forward to kiss me. “So, that means we can still kiss and not worry about anyone taking our picture?”
“Princess, I don’t care who the fuck is taking our picture. I’m not about to stop kissing you.”
thirty-nine
An Uninvited Guest
Liz
Walking around the inn, I am still trying to clean and organize to get this place ready for investors to come look at. It’s kept me busy the past few days from the whole tabloid fallout.
Although I’ve tried to be as level-headed as Jack, I’m not even close. Every time I think of it, it just makes me mad all over again. So, I spend my days trying to keep as busy as possible, and Jack makes sure I spend my nights having orgasm after orgasm.
Although the situation isn’t ideal, the mind-numbing pleasure is certainly a perk.
And thankfully, no one around town seemed to find the article. I guess that people around here don’t care much about tabloids. They’d rather keep all their gossip traveling along the internal grapevine.
I hear the front door chime, and I call from the kitchen, “Be right there!”
No one responds, and I wonder if it’s just Mr. McArthur coming for another few days away from his wife. What is that man going to do when this place isn’t here anymore?
But when I round the corner, I don’t see the older gentleman with his top hat and thick-rimmed glasses. Instead, I see a thin man wearing a neatly pressed suit. His blonde hair is slicked back, and not a thing on him is out of place.
Nothing on him was ever out of place.
I should know. We were business partners for years.
And on again, off again lovers for almost as long.
“Mitch,” I say open-mouthed.
“Hey, Liz.”
It takes me a moment to gather myself to even understand what is happening right now. This man is a wanted fugitive. Why the hell is he standing in the lobby of the inn in my hometown?
“What the fuck?” is all I manage to get out.
He licks his lips. “I see that mouth of yours hasn’t changed. You always did love to drop the F-bomb.”