Page 23 of Between the Lines

Vera had promised. Impress her entire team with this sensitive project, and they’d trust me with a story of my own. I’d be a published author, with a book under my own name.

My fingers tighten around the notepad I’m holding. It’s not my only instrument. In my pocket, I have my phone with an easily accessible voice recording app. But I don’t know if Aiden will allow me to use it. Not all subjects do, at least not in the beginning.

Establish rapport.

Build trust.

Sketch out the basics of the story and identify areas of interest for a deeper dive. Create a list of other people for me to talk to—friends, siblings, parents, coaches, coworkers.

I have my process, and I need to lean on it to make it through these next two months in one piece. Bury the rest.The Gamble. My hatred for Titan. That night in Utah.

How safe I felt with his body around mine.

I take a deep breath. Release it. Repeat it several more times until I feel like I’m back in reality, in the moment I’m in. It’s one of many tricks I’ve learned to handle my anxiety.

I look at the palm trees across the street intensely, I think about nothing else than how pretty they are.

The sizable gate behind me rumbles, and I startle at the sound. I step aside to let a large Jeep drive out.

Aiden’s behind the wheel, and he’s rolled down the window beside him.

The fragile calm I’ve built wavers, but it doesn’t snap.

I look over at him. “Mr. Hartman.”

Aiden is in a navy suit, which fits him so well it must be tailored. His black hair looks even darker… slightly damp? Like he’d just gotten out of the shower. Brows drawn low, his eyes meet mine. “Have you been standing here waiting for me?”

“I like to come early,” I say. “Your time is valuable.”

“Professionalism in action,” he replies. It echoes the words we’d spoken in his office… and the unspoken vow that we’d leave Utah in the past.

“Yes.”

“How’d you get here?”

“I took a rideshare,” I say. “I assumed it would be easiest.”

He frowns, but then gives a nod. “Right. Get in, then.”

“Thank you.”

Once I’m settled in the car, he pulls out onto the quiet, curved street that runs beside his house, and we wait for the gate to close fully before he drives away.

I turn toward him in the comfort of the leather seat, my notepad in hand. I don’t look at it. This is the first interview, and setting the tone is key.

Only, it’s never beenquitethis nerve-racking before.

There’s a small smile to Aiden’s lips. I hate that Istilllike that expression. It reminds me of the resort lobby and theconversation we had. Of the moment when it felt as if I met someone whounderstoodwhat I meant beyond the spoken words…

I squash the feeling. Remind myself that he runs Titan.

Remember that I have a job to do.

“Charlotte,” he says. “Where are you staying?”

“At a short-term rental in Westwood.”

He makes a thoughtful sound. “Right. It would be better if I picked you up. When we do one of these drives next time.”

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