He stares at me for an extended time. “See you tomorrow.”
Emily
My phone dances across the coffee table, and I pick it up in a rush.
“He’s okay.” Tristan sighs.
“Thank God.” I close my eyes in relief. “Can I see him?”
“He has a bad concussion and is going to be in the hospital for a few days.”
“What?”
“He said it’s best that you don’t come down; he doesn’t want the media circus.”
My eyes fill with tears. Damn it. It feels like all I do is cry at the moment.
“He’s sleeping now.”
“Did he say anything? About me?” I pause as I try to articulate my thoughts. “How do I get through to him, Tristan?”
He exhales heavily. “I don’t know. He’s got a lot of shit going on, Em. I don’t think he’s thinking straight at the moment. I’ll try and talk to him tomorrow.”
I screw up my face in tears. “Okay,” I whisper. “Can you call me . . . please?” God, I sound like the world’s biggest loser, but I don’t know what else to do. “I’m so worried about him, Tristan.”
“We all are, Em. I’ll call you tomorrow. Just try and get some sleep.”
“Okay, good night.” I hang up and get into the shower, and tears of relief begin to fall.
At least he’s okay, and tomorrow is another day. He will come back to me. I know he will.
I slide down in my chair as I peer across the street. I’m on Operation Spies Like Us.
Hayden is my stalking subject. I don’t know why, but I can’t let this go with him.
I called in sick to work. I figure this story may be the most important story of my entire career to crack.
I still haven’t spoken to Jameson, and with every day that passes, I lose a little more hope.
It’s seven o’clock in the evening. I’m wearing a blonde wig and dark glasses, and I have even rented a car. I’ve been sitting here for eight hours, with no sign of stupid Hayden.
He lives in a busy part of town in a nice apartment block; the street is bustling, and people are everywhere. I have to concentrate on not missing anything.
Damn it, come out already.
I’ve eaten all my snacks. I’m hungry and dying to go to the bathroom, but damn it, I want a lead or something . . . anything . . . throw me a bone here.
I look down the darkened street and back up the other way. God, Hayden’s probably on his way to Istanbul by now. That’s what I would do if I got fired from my job for stealing. Although apparently, he has no idea he’s still being investigated. He thinks being fired is as far as it’s going to go.
I lie back in the chair and let out a deflated breath. I glance over my shoulder and see Hayden stopped and talking to a woman on the sidewalk.
Shit.
I scoot down in the chair. They must be getting back from somewhere. They seem to be deep in a serious conversation, and she has a large bag over her shoulder. I take out my phone and snap a picture of the two of them. I zoom in and take a few shots. Who is she? Is that his girlfriend?
I text Aaron and Molly in a group chat and send them the picture.
Do you know this girl?