Page 174 of Between the Lines

Esmé. My best friend since childhood.

I answer. “Hey.”

“I just saw it,” she says. There’s silence on the line, like there’s nothing more to say. And is there, really?

Is there anything else that needs to be said?

“I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into,” she says in her calm, collected voice, “but I’m here if you need me.”

The simple words make my throat squeeze shut. My eyes well up with tears, and I try my best to blink them away. But one escapes anyway, slides down my cheek.

“It’s all such a mess,” I whisper.

“Oh, Charlotte. I wish I could hug you,” she says, and that makes me cry harder. I don’t stop the car, don’t slow down. As I’ve done for years.Just keep moving.

“How did you find out?”

She hesitates for only a moment. “Tara saw it on social media and forwarded it to me. Some kind of video.”

Tara is her sister-in-law. It’s just like I expected. Friends sending links to friends—that invisible network that never fails to spread gossip around.

“I can’t believe this is happening again,” I say.

“Your parents,” she says softly. “Do they know?”

“I’m sure some helpful soul will inform them. They know I’m… I’m writing his memoir. But not about…”

“Ah. I’m sorry, Charlotte.”

There’s a brief pause, and I use it to wipe my cheek. There are too many emotions running through me, and I can’t parse them all out, can’t handle the speed or intensity.

“Are you okay?” she asks. “I mean, why did this happen? He runs Titan Media, Charlotte.”

And there it is. Even with the gentle tone in her voice, the judgment.You should have known better.

This is a dumb decision, Charlotte.

“I have to go,” I say.

“Charlotte—”

“Thanks for calling. I’ll talk to you later.” I hang up and pull to a stop at a vacant cul-de-sac, fronted by high hedges. Hiding the million-dollar houses from view.

I open up the tabloid site again. The one that Eric had sent me. Ground zero.

It’s been updated.

Star Buzz News reached out to Aiden Hartman’s team for a comment. Mr. Harmann himself has told Star: “Ms. Charlotte Gray and I have no relationship beyond the professional. She is a fantastic writer, and I have every confidence in her skills for my memoir.”

My eyes skip over the middle words.No relationship beyond the professional.

No relationship beyond the professional.

No relationship beyond.

None.

He’s denying it.

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