Dirty Headlines

The rumor mill was in full swing, with Mathias poking his head down from the top floor and hanging out in the newsroom like it was his second house. He tapped Kate on the shoulder and made suggestions, walked up to Elijah and shot him orders, and tried to coax Jessica into having lunch with him. It was clear he was trying to screw with us as much as he could before Célian came back, which made me believe he knew something we didn’t—maybe that his son had gotten back with his ex-fiancée.

It was a disaster in the making, and I had VIP tickets. On the flip side, he did ignore me the best he could, and I tried to disappear into my monitor and not lift my head from the keyboard until it was time to go home.

When I had a second to breathe, I ran to the fifth floor to Ava or Grayson’s desk. Phoenix, who was a freelancer, didn’t have to show up at work every day, but he did because I was in breakdown mode.

“You don’t know what’s happening yet,” he tried to reason with me.

“What’s to know? The Laurents do what they want to do.”

“Exactly. And he doesn’t want to do Lily. Hasn’t for a while now.”

“He wants his network, and that’s what he’ll get. I’ll be a blip in his history. Nothing but a stain.”

“Stain!” Grayson huffed, slapping his desk. “I hope you tarnished his whole life.”

According to Gray, Célian had been seen going in and out of Lily’s apartment building twice in the last forty-eight hours. At this point, I’d stopped trying to communicate with him and had gotten the general idea. The message had finally hit home.

I was disposable. Maybe not a one-night stand, but definitely a short-term one. I was past my expiration date, thrown aside for Lily to take over. He was patching things up with her family and spending time with her.

Phoenix, of all people, remained impartial.

“Célian Laurent is every bad thing under the sun, but he is not a pussy. If he wanted to get back with Lily, he would have given it to you straight.”

Grayson filed his nails, rolling his eyes. “Then I guess he gave it to her gay when he kept mum on his engagement the night they met.”

“He didn’t think he’d see her again,” Ava pointed out.

“But then he found out they were working together,” Gray stressed, unwilling to give Célian any slack. I couldn’t blame him. He’d been working here for four years, and Célian still didn’t know his name. “Plenty of time to clear things up.”

“It didn’t make any difference. They weren’t together, and he was trying to set boundaries with an employee, seeing as his father is a first-class douche with blurred lines when it comes to female coworkers,” Phoenix shot back, picking at his takeout with a set of seriously short chopsticks.

“Why are you defending him?” I blinked. “He’s been nothing but horrible to you.”

Phoenix shrugged. “Because he’s sorry.”

“About what?” Ava asked.

“About everything. About what happened to Camille. About keeping us apart. The guilt practically pours from his face when he passes me in the corridor. He knows he screwed up, and he wasn’t even the one doing the real damage. I don’t like him—not even close—but then again…” He dropped his takeout box in the trash can, even though it was still half full. He shook his head, knotting his fingers behind his neck on a sigh. “Camille loved him. He protected her fiercely. He gave her the love and guidance their parents didn’t. And I refuse to believe that’s the same man who pulls shit like this.”

“I haven’t heard from him in almost three days.” I cleared my throat, looking down at the takeout box in my lap. What the hell had I ordered, anyway? I’d thought it was orange chicken and noodles, but now that I looked, it was stir-fried seafood and rice. I’d eaten a quarter of it without even tasting it. Just how messed up was I?

My heart is not a lonely hunter.

My heart feels. It beats. It loves. It breaks.

It breaks. Oh, God. It is breaking right now, to pieces, and there is nothing I can do to patch it back together. I’m falling apart right along with it.

My phone pinged. I refused to look down and chance everyone seeing how my face twisted in agony and disappointment when I found out yet again that it wasn’t Célian. I took a sip of my water.

Another ping.

Then another.

Then another.

Phoenix’s phone started pinging, too, but he wasn’t a coward. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned. “Jude?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Kate. There’s an oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. NOAA is freaking out, and there’s an official statement coming in half a second. We need to go upstairs right now.”

We both shot from our seats at the same time. Adrenaline pumped in my veins. Phoenix took my hand and tugged me into the elevator. He didn’t let go, even once we were in inside. When our eyes met, he squeezed my palm.

“Want the truth?” he asked.

I grimaced. “Getting tired of the lies, that’s for sure.”

“That day, when I met you at the library, I wanted to hit on you. I thought, for the first time since Camille, that I’d found something good.”

My eyelashes fluttered, my breath hitching. “Oh?”

“Then the next day, I saw you at your desk. Célian walked over to you. He looked down. You looked up. Your eyes met. He fought a smile. I had a déjà vu moment. Because the last time his face lit up like that was when Camille busted his balls for one thing or another. No one else ever made him smile. So I couldn’t do it to him. Or to you. Or to me.”

He let go when we arrived at the newsroom. Kate was ushering people to the conference room for an emergency meeting.

Célian wasn’t there.

Mathias was.





Half my co-workers ended up spending the night in the newsroom to cover the oil spill. All evening people ran around asking where Célian was, but no one had an answer. I overheard stories from the same folks who’d so kindly made false assessments about my motives and personality when my boss had announced we were dating.

They said he had never missed an important item in his life, that he’d once shown up to work with a fever and lung infection to cover the Michael Flynn case with the Russians, that he was probably really eager to get back with his beautiful, albeit crazy, fiancée.

Kate sent me home when the clock hit eleven. She probably had mercy on me since I didn’t live around the block. She also knew about Dad, and I wished she didn’t, because I didn’t want to be the token charity case.

“Jude, grab your things. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“I can stay,” I said, and I meant it. I didn’t mind pulling an all-nighter. I hadn’t slept much during my first year of college, between working two jobs and keeping my grades up.

Kate momentarily tore her gaze from the monitor she stared at. “No. You’ve already gathered all information I need. I want you to go home.”

Arguing with her was just going to eat away her precious time, and besides, she wasn’t wrong. I needed to check on Dad. I grabbed my bag and walked toward the elevator, a pang of guilt slicing my conscience as I watched everyone else still hard at work.

I’d called the elevator when a hand clasped my shoulder, swiveling me around. It was Kate. Her normally snowy cheeks were red, and she looked flustered and out of sorts.

“If I knew where he was, I’d tell you,” she said, her breathing heavy from running.

“I know.” I smiled softly. “But I wouldn’t expect you to. Whatever Célian does with his life is none of my business, and it will not affect my performance here.”

Kate pressed her forehead to the cool wall beside us, squeezing her eyes shut. She looked tired. I got it. She was sans Célian and short on staff. “He’ll have some serious explaining to do once he finally gets back here.”

The elevator slid open and I stepped inside, giving her a thumbs-up. For the very first time I thought, and explain he might, but I will not be listening anymore.