Be My Babygirl

Tiffany.

Tiffany.

I get to my feet and pace the floor. “Could Tiffany have actually done something?”

“When they left that night of the party, I heard Tiffany rustling around upstairs. I figured she was just applying her makeup before they left, but looking back, why wouldn’t she have used the downstairs bathroom?” Gran purses her lips. “I wouldn’t put anything past that woman.”

I whip out my phone. “I have some phone calls to make.”

Gran gets up and clears our bowls. “You do that, and so help me, one of the first calls better be to Katie, or I will personally box your ears.”

I’m chuckling as the door swings closed behind me. I dial Katie.

She answers on the first ring.

“Darius.”

She sounds as distraught as I feel. I walk out into the field lit by moonlight.

“Katie.”

We don’t say anything at first then both start talking at once.

“It wasn’t me—”

“I misunderstood, and I acted rashly—”

“I didn’t think you were talking about actual details—”

“I had a lapse in judgment—”

Finally, we both stop. “Go on,” I tell her. “You first.”

She lets out a deep breath on the other side of the phone. “After dinner, that night in your penthouse. My editor was messaging me, telling me how great the book was. And so I was smiling about that, and when you accused me of using us as inspiration… well, I told you the truth. I did.” Her voice catches. “How could I not? I love you. And I’ve lived a fairytale-come-true with you.”

My heart softens. I wish I could hold her, gather her up in my arms and rock her on the porch swing while the lightning bugs light up the night sky.

“You didn’t write the personal parts, did you?”

“No. Oh, God, Darius, why would I betray your trust like that?”

Of course she wouldn’t. How could I have ever thought she did?

“Then who did?”

She releases a shuddering breath.

“When I was writing at your Gran’s, I left my computer out on the nightstand. Remember? I… don’t use a password or any protection.”

I groan. “I ought to spank your ass for that.”

She giggles, like she’s laughing through tears. “And I would gladly bend over. I ought to be spanked for that.”

I’m smiling now, the first real smile in days.

“And when I went to make sure I had everything, the computer was put away in a pocket I don’t use. It didn’t dawn on me I’d left it on the nightstand, not in the bag. So it’s likely someone there manipulated my manuscript.”

Her voice is hard and angry when she tells me this.

“I knew Gran was up to something,” I say, which makes her laugh out loud.

I sober. “It was Tiffany. I’d bet you anything.”

“I would, too. You know why?”

“Why?”

“The injury they described. You never told me what it was. However, whoever wrote this was very specific. I saw the lines myself. Only someone in the know would write that.”

I growl. “True.” I shake my head. “And you tried to tell me, there’s no way reporters would have been able to break a story less than twenty-four hours after you turned your book in. They wouldn’t have those details so quickly unless someone leaked them earlier. Right?”

“Absolutely.”

I sigh. “Katie, I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, Darius. I’m sorry, too.”

Hope rises in my chest. “I want you here with me.”

“Where are you?”

“Gran’s. But I’ll come home in the morning and straight to you.”

She sighs. “Thank you, Darius. I hated thinking you were hurt by anything I did. I did use you for inspiration, I’m not going to lie.”

“Yes,” I say. “And I was honored by that.”

“Then be honored still, Darius. My editor said it was the best book I’ve ever written. She said it’s going to fly off the shelves. And it’s because you gave me real love. You inspired me to write from the heart.”

I swallow hard. “I’m honored, baby.”

Her voice is soft and gentle. Like her. “Come home to me, daddy.”

“I will, Katie Kat. But first, you have a job to do…”

I give her detailed instructions about time stamps and emails sent to her editor, and she tells me she knows how to go back through her version history to see when changes were made to her document.

The next morning, I leave with a paper napkin filled with Gran’s homemade blueberry muffins and a kiss on my cheek. “You go make this right, Darius. And when you do, you bring that girl back here for a proper wedding before this old lady kicks the can, hmm?”

I chuckle but promise her. I absolutely will.

I have a text from Katie.

Did everything you said last night. Sarah got ahold of the emails that were sent to some of the media companies. After reading over them, she confirmed that the emails sent by me didn’t sound like me, and when they sent Sarah the time stamps she requested, it isn’t possible it was me. I was with you in the barn when she sent that, and her language doesn’t sound like me at all. She said ‘your’ instead of ‘you’re’ and ‘there’ instead of ‘their.’ And not a capital letter in sight. It’s an embarrassment!!!!!