Page 118 of The Love Destroyers

“Oh, come on,” I say, looking out the windshield as I navigate the car.

“You’re no fun. Okay. Get this. Ellie is actually thirty-six.”

I give her a sidelong glance. “She’s twenty-four.”

“She says she’s twenty-four, but she’s actually thirty-six.”

She says it like it’s a smoking gun, but I’m not seeing anything but mist. “So, she lied about her age. Who gives a shit?”

“Millions of shallow people who enjoy nothing better than breaking strangers on the internet! They’ll give lots of shits. Now, some skincare companies might be tripping all over themselves to represent her, because, damn, that girl looks good. But this is a big deal. Not to mention, she forged documents to back up her story, which is illegal, although I doubt he’ll spout off about that since he’s the one who did it. So…yeah. He plans on leaking the truth after he gets her goods. Which is why we need to sweep in and get them first.”

I take the final turn toward Smith House. “So you want me to talk to her. When?”

“Tomorrow evening. You’re getting a drink in the private room at Buchanan Brewery. Theyloveus there.”

“Ellie doesn’t trust me. Why would she say anything?”

She barks a laugh. “I thought you were a lawyer. Isn’t your whole job schmoozing people and convincing them to act against their own interests?”

It’s never been about that for me, but she’s not altogether wrong. My job is to be convincing. To lay out a well-thought-out, evidence-based argument to make my case.

And if I can’t convince Ellie Reed that I’m right?

I can’t convince anyone.

CHAPTER THIRTY

EMMA

“How’s Seamus?” Sophie asks after the door closes behind her, leaving us alone in the private room at Buchanan Brewery. She’s dressed in a cozy branded hoodie and looks much less harried than she did the other night in the emergency room.

I’m a wreck, although I did put on one of my favorite silk, button-up dresses. A power dress.

“He’s okay,” I answer tightly.

I sent Chuck home after I got back to Smith House yesterday. When I texted him later to ask how Seamus was doing, he sent a thumbs up. But I shouldn’t have even temporarily doubted his worthiness as a correspondent, because he followed up with a three-paragraph text that boiled down to this: they’d eaten a pizza and watched an old movie on Netflix that had a strange ending. Seamus hadn’t done anything dangerous, but he seemed to feel really low. He hadn’t talked much, but hey, the rabbit had really taken a shine to him. There’d also been a string of emojis.

I woke up in the middle of the night, my whole body aching with sadness, and found myselfcrying. I haven’t cried in years. I didn’t even cry after the whole mess with Jeffrey. It made me feel bitter, my heart shriveled, but now it feels anything but. My heart is alive and weeping.

Poor Shadow didn’t know what to do. She padded around my body and then batted me in the face with her paw as if she thought a brisk slap might bring me around.

It didn’t.

But I brought the flask into bed and slept with my hand wrapped around it. In the morning, I was surprised to see it before I remembered.

The heart is such a fickle thing. It seizes onto things associated with a person when it can’t be with them. But in the light of day I knew the truth. The flask wasn’t him any more than the car was—they were his things and they were no substitution.

That hollow ache kept making itself known.

I didn’t call or text him, though. I wouldn’t reach out to him until I was sure. I didn’t want to play with his feelings, because now I knew he had plenty.

“His rib isn’t too bad?” Sophie presses, bringing my attention back to her.

“He seems to have kind of forgotten about it,” I say truthfully. I doubt it’s foremost on his mind right now.

“Oh, well that’s good, I guess,” Sophie says, looking doubtful. “I just wanted to say you and your friends were kind to get Otis a job. Between you and me, it might not be the best situation for him. He’s a bit too…impressionable. But he needs to keep busy. When he’s not working, the whole house is covered in dirty laundry, and to be honest, Jonah can’t stand him.” She trails off before continuing, “My boss also told me about the call you made to him.Thank you, Emma.”

“You’re welcome,” I say, feeling unequal to it. Otis’s job is very temporary and probably won’t be much fun once I put Ellie into a bad mood.

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