Page 178 of Between the Lines

“I’m reading the draft of the memoir.”

“I can see that.” She looks around. “Where’s the author?”

My head pounds, and I know it’s as much from the liquor as from the intense reading. I lean on the wall for a moment to steady myself. “She’s not here.”

“I saw the tabloids.”

It’s not surprising that she had. I look beyond the windows to the dark night sky. Mom must have seen the headlines, too. No doubt they’d spoken about it at dinner.

“Charlotte ran away,” I admit.

Mandy crosses her arms over her chest. “Ah.”

“You read the story, I’m assuming.” My voice comes out bitter. “She was onThe Gamble.”

“I saw that. Funny, I didn’t recognize her. But then, I never did enjoyThe Gamble. I watch other series, like that show of yours on a deserted island? It’s delicious.” She shakes her head a little. “Did you know?”

“Yes.”

Mandy’s face drops. “Oh. You kept that close to your chest. Same as the fact that you’redatingher. Thanks for letting yoursisterknow.”

“Charlotte didn’t want it widely known. Either thing.” I run a hand over my face. “She won’t answer my calls. I’ve tried searching for her throughout the city with no luck. She fuckinghatespublicity, and right now, she’s getting a ton of it.”

Because of me.

The guilt had been gnawing at my bones since my PR team called me. I wanted to break the news to Charlotte myself but never got the chance. Eric beat me to it.

Mandy sits down on the opposite couch. “Okay. I think you need to tell me everything, starting with how this whole thing evenhappened.Because you being this distraught… Aiden, you care about her.”

I sigh. “Yeah. I do.”

So I tell my sister as much as I can, leaving out more than a few details she doesn’t need to know. It doesn’t take long. And in the end, I feel even worse.

“I knew from the start she was worried about publicity. I even tried doing something about it. Something that could help her in the long run, but…” I reach for my bourbon again. It’s been a long time since I’ve drunk this much. “I fucked up. I did something to set her on edge, and then the news hit.”

Mandy carefully moves a few of the papers out of her way and curls up on the couch. “Right. Okay, let’s hear it, then. What did you do?”

I tell her in short terms about the article. She listens, nodding every now and then, her eyes sharp.

“A hit piece,” she says. “That’s what you wanted the article to be, right? You wanted to expose Blake and his douchebaggery.”

I sigh. “Yes. But I genuinely wanted her to tell her version of the story, too.”

“I get it. You did what you’ve always done.”

“And what’s that?”

“Protect the people you love.” She leans over the coffee table and waves her hand at the liquor bottle. “Hand me that, will ya.”

Huh.I hesitate for a moment before handing her the bottle. “You can’t drive if you drink that.”

She hides it behind a cushion. “I won’t. And neither will you. So.Charlotte.You wanted to protect her. Do you love her?”

I lean back against the couch and look at the image on the far wall. The one that Charlotte once commented on. The beach, the surfers. My happy place.

“Yes,” I say.

Mandy swears softly.

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