I’m not crying. I don’t have any tears left for Jameson Miles.
To be honest, I’m just angry, mostly with myself for meeting him last night and being his puppet once again.
Magic Mike XXL is on Netflix, and I’m watching it again. It’s ironic, really, that we started our love affair watching this movie, and now I’m watching it again on our demise.
I’ve been deep in thought. I’ve got some decisions to make—big decisions.
About where I’m going with my life . . . my career and my future at Miles Media.
I already know what I need to do. I glance up to the television, and it’s a campfire scene on the beach, and the men are talking about a woman one of them loved.
“When someone shows themselves to you . . . believe them.”
My chest constricts at the significance of that statement.
For weeks now, I’ve refused to believe that Jameson Miles was coldhearted.
He is, though; no matter how the man I thought I knew presented himself . . . his reality is a lie.
“Jim doesn’t exist,” he said.
My phone rings, and the name Tristan lights up the screen. I frown. “Hello.”
“Oh my God, Em. They think they’ve found it.”
I sit up. “What?”
“Lara Aspin’s computer—there’s evidence on there that it was used to log in to our bank accounts.”
“What?” I whisper, wide eyed.
“We don’t have details yet, but the computer analysts just called to let us know that the history is very promising.”
I smile. “That’s great.”
“I’ll see you in the office in the morning? Come up to the top floor as soon as you get in.”
“Yeah, sure.” I pause on the line. “Hey, thanks for letting me know.”
“See you in the morning,” he says chirpily down the line.
I hang up and, with a sad smile, stare into space for a moment. I get up and open my laptop at the kitchen table, and I begin to type.
I believe you, Jameson . . . I finally believe you.
“Oh my God, Em, did you hear?” Aaron smiles happily as he spins on his chair toward me.
I’ve just arrived at work for the morning and put my handbag down onto the desk. “What?”
“The headlines today say that they have made an arrest over the embezzlement.”
“Really?” I fake a smile. “That’s great.” I look around. “Is Moll here yet?”
“No, she’ll be here soon.” He turns on his computer.
“Okay, I’ll be back in a moment.” I take the envelope from my bag and swipe my card to get to the roof. Funnily enough, it works today.
The doors open, and Sammia smiles broadly as if she’s happy to see me. “Good morning, Emily.”