Once Upon a Friendship

There was a paragraph about the twelve-year-old’s egging of Walter’s gate, exemplifying that not only investors had been hurt by the Connelly scheme, but also their families and their children.

The American public was encouraged to stay tuned and find out what other secrets would be exposed in the course of the investigation.

Gabrielle wanted to throw up.

* * *

LIAM WANTED TIME to himself. He’d kissed his best friend. Lies about his life were all over the news. And his father was about to be indicted on charges that could put him in prison for the rest of his natural life.

Liam couldn’t let the night end this way, though. No telling what Gabi, with her worrying and X-ray vision when it came to danger, would do with that kiss undiscussed between them. By morning it

could have grown into a mountain that would keep them from ever seeing each other again.

And that was his worst nightmare.

She closed the internet browser. “The first thing we have to do is get your father to drop the trespassing charges,” she said, proceeding in a very calm, determined fashion to lay out her plan to get his father to capitulate.

“It’s a good plan,” he told her, settling his butt on the corner of his desk. A couple of feet of heavy wood between them wasn’t much, but it was better than standing close enough to feel the heat coming off her body.

Or smell the scent of her skin.

“You know my father well,” he told her, not displeased by that fact, either.

“Comes from more than ten years of watching you deal with him,” she said. She chuckled, but there was no mirth on her face. Nor was there when she looked at him.

“You’re good at sizing up your adversary and cutting to the quick,” he told her. Because he didn’t want her to size him up and cut him off, he had to deal with this.

Had to make things right between them.

“Then we have to figure out how we’re going to handle your publicity, Liam. Do you want me to make a formal statement? Do you want to stick with the ‘no comment at this time’ routine? How do you want me to play this?”

She wasn’t quitting him. He switched gears a bit. To give himself time to figure out what to do with her. For her. For them.

To figure out how to not only preserve their friendship—his and Marie’s and Gabi’s—but to prevent any more of the rash and inappropriate feelings and actions emanating from him without his will.

“What do you suggest?”

“In my opinion, the less said, the less anyone has to twist or use against you.”

Then she probably wasn’t going to like what he’d deemed his good news, either.

“I could break up with you—publicly speaking, of course,” he said. It had worked for Jenna. Got them apart in the eyes of her father without making her look bad. Making her the victim and him the bad guy.

That, at least, would take off the pressure of having the press make this nightmare any worse. Or shine a light on reality in their fantasy. A light that Gabi might actually begin to see.

“Why would you do that? It would only keep the gossip growing. Gain more attention. You’d have more reporters watching you. Everywhere you go. Everything you do. Just so they can be the one to see you with yet another woman. To...”

He got the picture.

“With my history, they’d easily believe that I’d moved on. I was trying to get them off your back.”

“Let me worry about my back, Liam. I’ve gotten pretty good at it over the years.”

“You’re probably not going to like what I have to tell you next,” he said. Might as well disappoint her all at once. And then find some way to do damage control.

The muscles in her cheeks dropped. “What?”

“I’ve sold this story.” He told her about June Fryburg asking for an exclusive.