“What photos?” I’m too confused to argue.
“The paparazzi. They were already congregating in the carport when I went through the lobby. I have Jenkins holding them at bay until you’re ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“To give your statement. You need to get in front of this before they get a chance to dig in enough to find out what really happened here tonight.”
He brushes past me, heading out of the bedroom suite.
“Now where are you going?” I shout after him.
He stops in the doorway, turning back. “To make a pot of coffee. Then to call Z and make sure he took care of the clean-up at the hospital.”
He’s making no sense at all.
“They didn’t even take him to the hospital!” I scream, losing my temper. “This isn’t some stupid crime scene you need your cleaner to fix.”
“Oh, really? So, you’ll be fine with Natalie Carrington blabbing about the trauma she suffered in room 1028 of The Whitney? She’s gonna try to hit every news outlet within the next twenty-four hours.”
She wouldn’t dare. She’s the home wrecker. The whore. Why would she want anyone to know the truth?
I feel Dex’s gaze on me. When I look into his eyes, I know he knows something I don’t.
He pulls out his phone, walking back to me before shoving it into my hands for me to read as he fills me in. “My tech team did a workup on her while I was in my car over here.
“She’s an aspiring actress. Mostly commercials and off-off-Broadway stuff. Has a reputation for sleeping her way up the ladder—directors, agents… financiers.” He didn’t say ‘like Tristan,’ but we both know Tristan was a sponsor of the arts in NYC. “I’m not exactly sure what she thought she was going to get from Miller, but I’m gonna make sure we shut her down before she tries to capitalize on tonight.”
He’s already out the door when I call out to him. “Dex!”
In a second he’s back, standing in the door, his arms across his chest, an unreadable scowl on his face.
I finally get my words out. “Why are you doing this? Helping me?” I hate how my voice quavers.
“Honestly? The hell if I know.”
And then he’s gone, leaving me with Gordon who looks as confused as I am.
It’s been three years since I kicked the devil out of The Whitney, and in a few short minutes, he’s barged back in like he never left.
Chapter Six
DEX
“Here, drink this,” I say as I hand Katja a mug of steaming brew.
Kicking Gordon out of the room so I can speak to Katja in private was nearly impossible, but he finally left. I want to leave, but I need to touch base one more time before I do.
She sips the coffee, her eyes locked on the window and the cityscape beyond them.
I can’t read her thoughts, which was something I used to be able to do so well. I’m not sure if it’s time that has caused this, or if we simply aren’t the same two people we once were anymore.
Hating the awkward silence in the room, I finally say, “I just got done meeting with the staff, and they’re aware not to speak to reporters under any circumstances. I think they’re smart enough to know that I’ll find out if they do.”
“They’re loyal,” she murmurs.
“Loyalty can disappear with the right price,” I inform, although I know Katja already knows this.
It actually pains me to see Katja so rattled, which isn’t something very many people get the opportunity to see.