Page 131 of Faithful

“You have no reason to be. I swear, nothing is happening. Will you help?”

“Alright. Let me think of some names.”

16 BLAST FROM THE PAST

With Kai no longer a part of my daily life, the rest of January drags by like an appointment with an incompetent dentist during which you’re not given any anesthesia. The only good thing in all this mess I’ve created is the fact that Leigh’s father doesn’t interrogate her about the reasons behind my sudden desire to attend a Sunday brunch held by the most exclusive golf club in Seattle. The smallest portion of the city’s elite is granted membership and even immediate family needs an official invitation to get in. And since this isn’t the club where Gavin golfs (not because he’s not welcome but because these folks are a bit too progressive for his liking), Leigh is my only hope.

Meanwhile, I continue stalking Charles Heller online (and damn if I’m not good at cyber investigating—I got a boyfriend out of it once), trying to understand what kind of person he is and how to approach him.

And let’s be honest, I will have to approach him. There’s no way around that fact.

Obviously, his public persona depicts a happily married man with four wonderful children, two already enrolled in Ivy League schools. His wife is involved with the nonprofit sector.

On paper, they are perfect. Just like the Watsons once were.

Iodine leaves for Canada where they play a series of intimate shows in Montreal, Ottawa, and Toronto, and then fly out to British Columbia, their final stop before returning to Seattle.

The day of their performance in one of the Vancouver clubs, Kai makes headlines again.

Apparently, he walks out during a live radio interview when the show host asks him a question about the parking lot incident.

All hell breaks loose at work that day and since my Google alerts are turned off, Winona is the one who sends me a text with a link to an article in a major music magazine.

“I can’t believe this,” she whispers to me a couple of minutes later as she approaches my cubicle under the pretense of borrowing a stapler. “I thought Canadians were super nice and would never try to go off script.”

I give Winona a shrug. “Maybe he’s not Canadian.”

“And you should call your boyfriend. He probably needs a hug.”

Unfortunately, I can’t give him that. I can’t even call him without putting him at risk. At least from my own phone. I do it from Leigh’s in the evening.

I text Kai first, letting him know it’s me and that I want to talk and that this is my roommate’s number.

He takes forever to respond and it’s almost midnight when Leigh finally knocks on my door and then hands me her phone.

“For you.”

I shoot up from the bed. “Thanks.”

“No dick pic exchanges on my device,” she says, poking her finger into my chest.

“Leave.” I gently nudge her out of my room and dial Kai.

“Hey,” he says somberly. His voice has that post-show rasp.

“How was the set?”

“It was good. Great crowd tonight.”

“I miss you.”

Silence.

“I’m handling it,” I continue.

“Don’t make it worse, baby.”

My insides begin to tingle. “I like when you call me that.”

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