Last Summer(23)

“How much time?” Ella asks unsteadily.

“Ten days, I think.”

“Ten?” Rebecca said five.

“You left right after you and Damien got back from the Maldives.”

She remembers that trip. The mornings sunbathing on their private deck, afternoons snorkeling in turquoise waters, and evenings dining on succulent yellowtail kingfish. The hours spent nestled in Damien’s arms or pressed underneath him. The long conversations about love and life and careers and their future, spoken in soft whispers and loud laughter under a blanket of stars or the glow of the sun. They’d been celebrating their third anniversary.

“Last June then, right?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Do you know why the article didn’t run?”

“Uh-uh. You didn’t tell me. But you never tell me anything. Code of ethics, dear. I can’t get anything out of you beyond what you print in your articles.”

Biting into her lower lip, Ella logs into her cellular account. What if, for some reason, she deleted the calls and his contact info from her phone? Seems logical since everything else about the interview is missing. Sure enough, several lines down on her June billing statement, she finds it. One outgoing call to Nathan Donovan’s number.

“How long do you think you’ll be gone?” Davie asks.

“Not sure, but I’ve got to go.” She closes the statement and logs out. “I have a full day of research ahead.”

“Anything I can do to help?” she asks.

“No, but I’ll let you know if something comes up.”

“Okay. Oh, hey,” Davie says before Ella disconnects. “My client has an art show next week. I think you’d like his work. Interested in coming?”

“Sure,” Ella agrees, a little distracted as she opens various browser windows.

“Great. I’ll put your name on the list.”

Ella thanks Davie and ends the call. She dives into research, immersing herself in Nathan’s life. She reads every article she can dredge up and binge-watches Off the Grid! He’s masterfully skilled, athletic, agile, and borderline psychotic when it comes to the feats he designed to challenge his celebrity guests. And he’s hot, with a smile to die for and an infectious laugh that Ella is far from immune to. No wonder Rebecca thinks the Nathan Donovan exclusive is a coup for Luxe Avenue. With Off the Grid!’s 65 percent female viewership, Nathan’s face on the cover could be their bestselling issue in years.

But who is he for real?

What little material there is on him since the series was canceled is speculation. According to his publicist, Nathan was devastated at the loss of his son, Carson. He then, unexpectedly, canceled his series. Since then, he’s been somewhat of a recluse.

How did Carson die and why did Nathan cancel Off the Grid! without notice?

Curious. Ella can’t find a single bit of info on either topic.



It’s after 9:00 p.m. when Damien gets home. Ella meets him at the door. She hangs up his suit coat and helps loosen his tie, eager to ask him what he knows about Nathan Donovan.

“I made a plate for you. I’ll warm it up,” she says after they kiss.

“Thanks. I’m starving.” Damien removes his tie and follows Ella into the kitchen. “How was Sacramento?”

Ella puts Damien’s dinner into the microwave and sets the cook time. “I didn’t go. Rebecca called with a new assignment. I spent the day researching.”

“That’s a shame. I was looking forward to hearing about your lunch with the governor.” Tossing his flash drive–laden key chain onto the counter, he sets down his briefcase, pressing his thumbs on the biometric reader. The case pops open.

“Me too. But Rebecca assigned an exclusive. It’s with Nathan Donovan.”

“Really?” he says, his tone mild.

If Ella hadn’t been looking at Damien’s hands when she said Nathan’s name, she would have missed the slight hesitation as he removed his laptop.

Ella frowns. What’s with the pause? Is it because of Nathan?

“I thought you killed the article,” Damien says.

“It’s back on. Nathan called Rebecca this morning.”

“He did?” Damien removes files from his case and stacks them on the laptop. Ella catches a glimpse of one file label. ReAlign Software Inc. One of PDN’s UK clients.

“Damien.” She pauses until he looks at her. “I don’t remember him.”

His eyes darken. “Like you don’t remember Simon?”

Ella nods. “Exactly like that.”

The microwave dings. She removes the plate, grabs up the utensils, and sets them on the table. Steam rises from the reheated fettuccine with pesto sauce. A toasted pine nut aroma fills the kitchen. Damien doesn’t join her at the table.

“Do you want wine?” she asks.

“When do you meet Donovan?”

“He wants to start the interview tomorrow.” She pours herself a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon and holds up an empty glass for Damien.

He shakes his head, then his brow wrinkles.

“What is it?”

“There’s been a development. I leave for London tomorrow to meet with our UK legal team. Why don’t you ditch the interview and come with me? We’ll catch a show.”