Page 68 of The Show

“Shepherd.”

“Hey, buddy.” I hit the gas, speeding through the light before it turned red.

“What’s up?”

“Just letting you know I found Marnie and I’m working on a plan to get her to New York. I’m not there yet because I need to figure some shit out, but I just thought you’d like to know I found her.”

The silence was so long I thought we’d been cut off.

“Jupe?”

“Yeah.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. You really found her? You found her that quickly?”

“I did.” Or Cody did, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Then yes, I’m good. Thanks, man, I really appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Thank you,” he replied quietly, then hung up without saying another word.

Fine by me.

I had one stop to make before I got to Lowe’s apartment - a place I’d never set foot in, but walked past more times than I cared to admit.

12

Lowe

“Hang on, the doorman is buzzing me!” I set the phone down on the kitchen counter and ran to the intercom.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Slater, I have a Mr. Michaelson here for you.”

A split second of confusion was followed by a warmth which tingled through my veins better than the first sip of a barrel aged scotch. I was glad that Lauren wasn’t on video phone so she couldn’t see the bright glow heating my cheeks, or the smile I was currently sporting. The one threatening to split my face in half.

“Okay, thanks, let him up.”

I bent down on the counter, nearer to where the phone’s speaker was. “Laurie, I gotta go, call you later. Postmates is here.”

It was surprisingly easy to lie to her, even if every word was laced with a little guilt. I’d never kept anything from Lauren before; I’d never needed to. We shared everything. We poured over every problem, we dissected every date; cried together, laughed together.

But until I figured out what exactly was happening with Penn, I couldn’t tell her anything. Maybe there would be nothing to tell, though the thought of that tugged heavily in my chest. I also wasn’t sure what could happen. Penn was the eternal playboy, and while I wasn’t looking to settle down any time soon - much to my mother’s chagrin - there was too much at risk for the sake of a quick hookup.

“Okay, love you.”

“Love you, call you later.”

When I’d gotten home earlier, I’d flopped onto the couch and opened up all the books I’d taken with me, and set about creating the framework of a three-year brand plan for The Lions. I’d stayed there reading until ten minutes before Lauren called, when I’d realized the time and hotfooted it to the shower. I’d just stepped out of it and wrapped a towel round my head, which is where it stayed while I got dressed and listened to how her day had gone. And that’s why I was now frantically trying to smooth out the frizzy, crinkled mess my hair had become having dried in a kink under the towel, after I’d caught sight of myself in the enormous mirror by my front door.

At the ding of the elevator I gave up, scraping my hair back and securing it with a band.

Thick floral undertones curled through the air, fusing with the familiar heady scent of him. Then around the corner he came, carrying the biggest bunch of pale green hydrangeas and eucalyptus I’d ever seen, and my breath caught.

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