When I first met them, I would have hated to ask for a favor, but things are different now. My relationship with Daniel and Sebastian has deepened. We are no longer at the point where I’m worried that they are trying to impress me with their money and their power. I trust them.

I plug my phone into the charger and wait somewhat impatiently till the battery has enough juice for me to be able to power it up. As I start dialing Daniel’s phone number, I see missed call after missed call. Fifteen in all, all from Daniel.

There are more than a dozen text messages as well, and I open one of them. ‘Bailey. Please trust me. Whatever happens, I will fix this.’

What’s going on?

38

There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.

Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

Bailey:

Of course, I call Daniel right away, not bothering to listen to his voicemails. The text message he sent me was very mysterious, and I don’t do well with mystery.

He picks up on the first ring. “Bailey,” he says. His voice is cautious.

“What’s going on?” I ask him. “You can’t have heard about this already.” Daniel is freakishly well-informed, but even he can’t already know about my troubles.

“Heard what?” he asks. “Have you listened to any of my messages?”

“No, I thought I’d call you and you could fill me in.” I grimace. “I don’t really remember my voicemail password.”

He chuckles. “Ah, Bailey, I love you.” There’s a smile in his voice as he says those words, and it feels like someone has draped a warm blanket, fresh from the dryer, all around my heart. It feels pretty damn good.

His next words wipe that feeling away. “Have you looked at the Post?”

“No, I’ve had rather an eventful morning,” I reply. “Should I?”

His voice is taut with tension when he replies. “Yes, you really should.”

* * *

“Damn.” That’s all I can bring myself to say after seeing that picture. Just damn.

“I’m so sorry I let this happen, Bailey.” There’s misery in his tone. “This is my fault. I’ve failed you.”

“Whoa there, Mr. Overreaction,” I snap. “Slow it down. Did you leak this photo to the tabloids?”

“Of course not.”

I glare at my cell phone, my own troubles forgotten for the moment. Maybe if I have more time to think about it, I might become angry with Daniel. Right now, I’m more concerned about the impact this will have on his Kansas City deal. He’s been working so hard.

“Then the person that leaked the photo is the one I’m angry at, not you.” My voice softens. “Daniel, I trust you. We’ll deal with this, Sebastian, you and me. Together.” I laugh, though there’s not much humor in my tone. The stress of the morning has brought on a mammoth headache. All I want to do is swallow some aspirin and crawl into bed. “Your news is kind of stealing the thunder from mine.”

“What’s going on?” His tone becomes alert. “You said I couldn’t have heard already. Heard what?”

“Dr. Landrieu plagiarized huge sections of his research from some professor at the University of Buenos Aires, and I’m being cast as the scapegoat.” I try and fail to keep the bitterness from my voice. “The university is reviewing my case now. I’m expecting to be fired tomorrow.”

“Fuck,” he swears. I can picture him so clearly on the other end of the line. His eyes closed, his expression tired. All I want to do is snuggle next to him, comfort him and be comforted. “I’ll make a call,” he says finally. “I’ll put a stop to that.”

“It’s not too much to ask?” I don’t want him to think that I’m with him for his contacts or his money. Most of the time, I can fight my own battles. Sometimes though, I need a little help.

“No, Bailey,” he says with exasperation. “God, you are the most maddening woman. I call you, fully prepared for you to never want to see me or hear from me again because of the tabloids, and you are asking me if it would be too much trouble to call NYU on your behalf?”




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