Page 91 of Word to the Wise

Reed

Being on the roadwas one of my favorite parts of my childhood.

Still to this day, long car rides remind me of my father.

He’d bring Sage and me on short trips when he had club business that wasn’t dangerous. We’d take the truck, since we wouldn’t all fit on a bike, and I’d always be stuck in the middle seat.

I didn’t mind being sandwiched between the two of them. It was the safest place when my father’s world didn’t always feel that way. I’d relax in the center of the bench seat, watching the landscape change out the window as we drove from one town to the next.

Each place has its own heartbeat. Every city is a little different. On the road, you get to know what makes them unique, and you never know what’s going to happen next.

Glancing over at Mason, I’m reminded of those peaceful times.

He’s relaxed, sitting with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on my knee, avoiding the laptop in my lap. He’s leaned back in his seat, and even though it’s as far back as it will go, he still looks a little cramped.

But he doesn’t seem to mind it as the breeze moves through the cracked window.

He’s at peace.

Something changed in Vegas, and I sense he let go of a weight he was carrying around. After that meeting with his father, the burden on his shoulders seems lighter. It’s almost enough to make me want to stay with him at his house in the desert forever.

We could be lost and just disappear.

Mason squeezes my knee, glancing over at me. “Hit a sticking point in the research?”

“Not exactly.” I shake my head, turning back to my computer screen.

I’ve been scouring the internet since we left Vegas, and we’re already on the outskirts of LA. Digging into how Carter operates his businesses and what his plans are with the hotel in San Francisco. Trying to understand it now that I’ve taken off my rose-colored glasses.

When I was dating Carter, I didn’t know much about how he ran his business, and I didn’t care. I was blinded by what I thought was love. This article was meant to be a puff piece to make him look good because I would have done anything to help him out.

Which is why, when he asked me to set my journalistic ethics aside for one article, I did. I was willing to do anything to appease him. But now that I have a clearer understanding, I’m relearning this story from every angle so I can write it for what it is.

I’m going to tellthe truth.

Not just to get back at Carter, but because it’s the right thing to do.

Honesty used to be the backbone of who I was. It was Carter who chipped that away.

When we met in college, he pretended he was impressed with how I was chasing my dreams without apology. He said the world of journalism can be brutal, and more times than not, someone ends up pissed off over what’s been written. And he said he respected that I wanted to have a voice in that loud, overwhelming space.

I thought he appreciated that bravery, when really, I realized later, he just wanted to use it for his own benefit someday.

There are so many things about Carter I’m just now seeing. Six years, and I can’t differentiate what part of our relationship was love and what was me molding myself to be who he needed. Every day I regain a little more of my backbone, and I’m faced with the sides of myself he started to erase.

Now, I just need to find the strength to hold onto that when I’m inevitably faced with him again.

“Your dad gave me an idea.” I shut the laptop and slide it into my bag.

“That’s not usually a good thing.” Mason chuckles.

“Hear me out.” I turn in my seat as Mason slides his hand between my thighs, not letting go of me. “I’ve been so focused on Zane Enterprises dismantling a historic building with their expansion, that I’ve been overlooking the key element… It’s a historic building.”

“I thought that was the problem. Technically it isn’t. It’s just old.”

“No, technically, they just never applied for designation. But there’s no time limit on that. So, if they can get it underway before the building proposal makes it through the Board of Supervisors, there’s still a chance.”

“Aren’t you a little detective.” He smiles. “So, you’re going to convince them?”

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