Page 77 of Burn With Me

Just when her bright pink heel hits the pavement, a camera flash goes off, followed by the sounds of someone running away as fast as they can.

Fuck.

My phone is out faster than I can blink to start calling in favors at every gossip column and paper that will try to buy that photo. After a few calls going to voicemail, though, I realize Stacey is the one who usually deals with all of this, and she’s the one who will have the correct numbers.

Dialing her quickly, I shut the door and tell Robert to drive me home.

“Jackson? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” Her voice is sleepy, but I’m grateful she answered.

“Stacey. I fucked up. I fucked up big. Someone got a photo of me with a random woman. I don’t know who it was. But I need it killed. It can’t go to print.”

She sighs while I hear her wife asking what’s going on. “Jackson, why would you–”

“Because I was stupid, okay? Between losing the deal, Tripp not answering me, Ginny not picking up her phone, I just…I fucked up.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll deal with it. Go home.Alone. And pray that I can find out whoever it was.”

“Thank you.”

After we hang up, I bite my knuckles the entire drive home. P-Kitty meows at me for attention when I make it inside my penthouse, but I go straight for the full glass of scotch I left earlier, gulping it down like its water.

I don’t doubt Stacey will take care of everything, but I try Ginny’s cell again, half tempted to just show up at her place.

Again, she doesn’t answer.

Fuck it.

Might as well just get completely shit-faced.

Alone.

Like always.

Ginny

The pounding in my head is persistent as it rouses me from sleep. Laying there, waiting for the pain to pierce my temples, I groan as I realize it's coming from someone pounding on the front door.Notmy head.

Rolling over, I see it’s just after eight in the morning. Reaching to tap the screen on my phone, I’m reminded that I have an old as-hell iPhone that decided to take a dip in a rain puddle yesterday afternoon, and it’s currently still sitting in a container of rice on my kitchen counter.

“Ginny, open up. It's me!” Lenni yells through the door.

What the fuck is happening?

It is way too early for her to be up.She normally closes down the club and isn’t home until well after four.

Scrambling out of bed when she starts shouting again, I go to answer the door before she gets me kicked out of the building. Yanking it open, I jump back as she storms in. “That fucking bastard. I’m so sorry, Gin. I came as soon as I saw the article.”

Article?

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I yawn and ask, “What article? Lenni, what are you talking about? Do you know what time it is? It’s my only day to sleep in.”

And I desperately need the sleep after staying up worrying about why my stranger stood me up last night.

Turning, I head back to my bedroom and crawl into bed as she follows me, kicking off her shoes and pulling her jacket off to reveal a maroon flannel pajama pant set. “You haven’t seen it?Fuck, Ginny. I’m sorry. Actually, no, I’m not. I'm happy that I got here before Jackson shows up and tries to bullshit his way out of it.”

Thatgets my attention.

Things have been tense between me and Jackson since I left his place Thursday morning. I’ll admit it’s entirely my fault because I haven’t known how to navigate our relationship from here. He’s been busy at work, and I haven’t wanted to bother him. I meant to message him yesterday about them losing the deal he was so sure they’d get, but then my phone went swimming, and I never got the chance.

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