Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
But as I stand here now… I’m not feeling that at all. If anything, I feel the need to defend him. “A single GM cannot make or break a team. You’ve taught me enough about the job both back in college and since we’ve reconnected that I know that for a fact.”
“No,” Callum drawls with a grateful smile. “Every cog in the wheel is important but I made mistakes when I was with Ottawa. I actually think that’s the reason Brienne gave me the chance here. Because when I interviewed for the position, I think she could see that I’d learned from those mistakes.”
“You always were the smartest person I knew.”
Callum looks like he’s about to respond, but his eyes cut past my shoulder at something behind me. He frowns and then pushes off the fence. “Excuse me.”
I turn to watch him walk toward a man who’s taking pictures of the city skyline with his smartphone. I watch curiously, assuming maybe Callum knows him.
I become quickly alarmed when I hear Callum say, “Who the hell are you and why are you taking pictures of her?”
My jaw drops when Callum grabs the man by his T-shirt—two fistfuls—and backs him into a bench. His legs catch the back and it causes him to sit down hard. “Man… what the hell is your problem? Get the fuck off me.”
“Why are you taking pictures of her?” Callum asks again as I approach.
“I’m not,” the guy insists. He looks to be about late twenties, casually dressed, and I would take him for nothing but a tourist.
“Callum,” I say softly, reaching a hand out to touch his shoulder. This seems wrong.
But then Callum grabs the man’s smartphone and taps on the screen. It lights up, so it hadn’t locked yet, and as the man protests, Callum moves to the Photos app.
“Hey,” the guy yells, trying to stand up. Callum gives him a hard shove to the chest, pushing him back onto the bench.
Then to my shock, the photos appear and the last several are close-ups of me and Callum together. I move in and watch as he swipes through the photos, which start back to us pulling out of the driveway this morning.
“What’s your name?” Callum asks, his gaze finally moving from the phone to the man. His tone is gentle, his bearing relaxed.
It catches the guy off guard and he answers without hesitation. “David.”
“Who paid you to do this, David?”
“That’s none of your business,” he replies, lifting his chin defiantly.
“Listen… you don’t know me all that well but trust me when I say, I’m going to beat the truth out of you and it’s going to hurt like hell. So either tell me what I need to know now, or tell me after you’ve lost a few teeth. It’s your choice.”
Poor David pales. “I don’t know, man. I work for a private investigation company and all I do is follow people and take pictures. I assume you and this woman are having an affair and some husband hired our company.”
Callum nods and hands the phone back to the guy. He shrinks back from it a bit, looking up dubiously. “Aren’t you going to make me delete the photos?”
“Nope,” Callum replies, pushing the phone at the guy until he takes it. “Contrary to all the other people you stalk for photos, we’re not doing anything wrong.”
“Hey, man… that’s cool by me.”
“Actually,” Callum says on second thought, “let me see your phone.”
The man doesn’t even question his authority and hands it over. Callum taps on the camera screen, loops his arm around my shoulders and pulls me in close.
Holding the phone out at arm’s length, Callum whispers, “Smile like it’s the happiest day of your life.”
I can’t help but laugh because this is so ludicrous. Callum joins me and snaps a few pictures. He releases his hold and returns the phone to David. “Tell your client that I’m sure he’s just checking to make sure Juniper is safe and sound. Please assure him that she is and there’s no need to stalk her anymore.”
“Stalk?” David asks, alarmed.
“You heard me. You might want to tell your boss the guy who hired you is up to no good.”
“Um… okay. Yeah, sure. I’ll tell him.”
Callum nods at the photographer and then takes my hand. “Come on. I want to show you Phipps Conservatory.”
♦
Later that night when I’m tucked into my bed upstairs in Callum’s house, I reflect on the day.
All of it felt very much like an extended first date. It wasn’t necessarily the forethought Callum put into taking me around the city—my new, albeit temporary, home—but the fact that Callum was focused on me and my enjoyment. Even though I know how busy he is, and I know with the free agency period opening tomorrow, his phone has to be blowing up, he never once checked his messages and he didn’t answer any calls. He was present with me and I don’t know whether to be ashamed at how quickly I lapsed back into the natural friendship we shared years ago when we were so much more than friends.