Page 75 of Score to Settle
“Why do you even need my help getting a job?” I ask. “Don’t you usually rely on my dad for that?”
Scott’s face darkens. “Maybe you should ask him.”
Realization hits. I remember the offhand comment I made about Scott at the awards dinner. I didn’t think Dad was listening, but of course he was. He must’ve read between the lines, canceling our lunch and jumping on a plane the very next day to none other than New York. I can imagine him digging around and learning the truth…
And even though I’d prefer a dad who was in my life more—one capable of showing love like a normal father—I know hecares in his own way. It’s in the stories I wrote as a child that he took with him on his trips. It’s in getting Scott fired, too. Even without proof, I know he’s had a hand in that from the fury in Scott’s eyes. It’s not conventional love from a parent. Not nearly enough. But it’s something.
Suddenly Scott’s desperation makes sense. It seems it was just as easy for Dad to destroy Scott’s career as it was for him to build it in the first place. Now Scott wants to work at Arquette Media because it might be the only place he can get a job, if he can get a recommendation from me. The one person he thinks he can still bully…
I gather my strength, refusing to let Scott push me around. “I don’t care what you say or who you say it to. I know what really happened in New York and that’s all that matters. People can think what they like.” My voice is as cold as the air stinging my face. I’m surprised by how true the words feel as they leave my mouth. How much I’ve changed in the time I’ve spent with Jake. I reach for Jake’s arm. “Let’s go,” I say.
But as I’m stepping away, my foot slips on a patch of ice. The world tilts and for a split second I’m off balance, falling. Out of control. Then Jake’s strong arm wraps around my waist, steadying me before I can hit the freezing sidewalk.
“I got you,” he says. Of course he does.
I barely have time to flash a grateful smile before I register the clatter of noise and my bag slipping from my shoulder, the contents spilling into the slushy snow.
“Shit,” I mutter, dropping to the ground and grabbing my purse. Jake kneels to help, his large hands making quick work of retrieving the pens and two lipsticks rolling toward the street. When Jake stands once more, he casts an assessing gaze first to me and then to Scott.
Whatever Scott reads in the look, he holds his hands in the gesture of peace. “Hey,” he says. “Whatever Harper has told you,there are two sides to every story. Surely you know that better than anyone?”
“Fuck off, Scott,” I say before turning back to Jake. “Let’s go.”
Before we take a step away, a smirk twitches on Scott’s face. “Bet you didn’t realize your little girlfriend is quite the office slut.”
Jake moves fast, taking a menacing step forward, forcing Scott to lurch back, slipping on the icy sidewalk just like I did and falling on his ass. His face is a mask of fury and hate.
Jake cocks an eyebrow. “I know a slimy fuckwit when I see one.”
“I could have you charged with assault,” Scott splutters.
“Look around you.” Jake waves a hand to the Arquette Media building. “There are security cameras everywhere. You don’t think one of them caught you falling on your ass of your own accord? And for the record, the only reason I haven’t hit you right now is because you’re a weedy little asshole and I’d probably kill you. But speak about Harper like that again and I won’t hold back.”
Jake takes my hand and moves us back.
“Your career is over, Harper,” Scott hisses at me. “I thought we could help each other here, but I’m going to ruin you. You’ll never work in journalism again.”
From the scowl on Jake’s face, he’s about two seconds away from breaking Scott’s nose, which would land him in a whole world of trouble because of me.
“Give me a second,” I say quietly to Jake, adding strength to my voice.
Jake nods, stepping back just far enough to respect my wishes, but staying close enough should I need him. Always the perfect wingman.
When I turn to Scott, he’s on his feet and brushing off the wet snow from his coat. Even through the anger pulsing throughme, I see his words for what they are—empty and desperate. I think of the love and support I have from Mia. I think of Jake’s steadiness by my side. Whatever happens next, whatever Tim decides to do when we talk next week, I know I have the strength to face it.
“Actually,” I say with a dark smile, “I think you’ll find it’s you whose career is over, Scott. You’ll never get a job at Arquette Media or anywhere else I imagine, knowing how reputations have a way of spreading in this industry.”
Scott’s face darkens. “If I’m going down, I’m taking you with me.” Then he turns away, disappearing down the street.
I move toward Jake, wanting his arms around me, wanting to say I’m sorry for not being honest about Scott. But when my gaze lands on him, his head is dipped and his focus is on a purple notebook open in his hands.
Mypurple notebook. With all my notes about him. All the anger and hate I wrote in those early weeks of the assignment.
Panic lances through me. It must’ve fallen from my bag and Jake has picked it up. He lifts his face, and when his eyes find mine, they’re two dark pools of hurt. “Jake is a dick,” he reads out before turning the page. “Jake hasn’t changed at all. Jake deserves what’s coming to him. What exactly is coming to me, Harper? What game have you been playing with me?”
THIRTY-SEVEN
JAKE
