Page 73 of Taste of Addiction

Graham grabs my elbow and pulls me to him so we do not separate.

“Angie, how does it feel to be the other woman?”

“When are you due? There’s a baby, right?”

“Did this start out as an emotional affair or just a physical one?”

They all talk over each other and the words blast in my ears. Cheating. Other woman. Affair.

A baby?

What is wrong with them?

I tremble at Graham’s side, as he tries to push us through the cluster of reporters, using his laptop as a shield.

“Miss McFee, how are you coping with your drug addiction?”

“Are you planning to go to rehab?”

“How did you get started?"

“Is your boyfriend your pusher?”

The questions radiate in my ears as Graham barks orders to “move” at the nameless faces.

“There are rumors that you’re an escort. Can you confirm or deny?”

“Are you on the job now?”

“What is the hourly rate for a lady of the night?”

I feel my stomach start to cramp, and I fear the worst. I fear that I am going to throw up for the entire world to see. And judge. All of my sins are laid out in front of me. One after another. My shoulders hunch, and I want to curl into a ball to protect what is left of my dignity.

Hands grab at us, and I think Graham is going to punch someone. It isn’t until I see Collins running toward the chaos that embodies us that I allow the relief to rush through my limbs. He gets to me and shields me from the chanting…the questioning…the insults—the truth.

My feet feel like they are stuck in cement as Collins plows through the crowd. He gets me inside the backseat and slams the door before I even realize I’m being transported.

Graham slides in beside me and sneers, “Fuck!” His phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his pocket. “Hoffman. Yeah. Shit. How did this happen? When did everyone start to care to this degree? I’ll handle it.” He glances my way. “No.”

I watch as he hangs up, tosses the phone into the door’s cupholder, and then pulls me toward him as Collins maneuvers the car, while the group of reporters try to stand in the way for another shot of us fleeing the scene.

Graham’s phone buzzes, and he wrenches it out and answers in a fury. “Tell me you have answers.” He tenses at my side. “Leaked? How certain? Insider? But who would have the motive? Yes, run internal investigations on every HH employee. And when you find out who did this, tell no one. I want sole knowledge of the culprit.”

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“I’m not sure,” he says, kissing my forehead. “But I’ll find out and they’ll pay for their crime.”

“You think it’s a disgruntled employee at HH?”

“That’s what my sources are telling me. Just not sure who yet.”

“Someone you fired?”

“Possibly.”

“I just don’t get it. How does everyone know about my issues? I have barely come to terms with them myself.”

“I half expected the press to have a field day with my supposed infidelity, although I’m shocked it’s to this extent. But the drug use comments? That’s way out of line and not many people would know. Regardless, whoever did this will be dealt with.”

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