The Stopover (The Miles High Club, #1)(104)

“Why?”

“Because he doesn’t need more attention; it says here he’s been accused of theft.”

My eyes widen as I imagine the media storm that’s going to come from this.

“But what if he believes this?” I stammer. “I’ve never been with Jake. This is complete bullshit. I love him.”

“He said he will be in touch . . . he will be.”

I listen as my mind runs at a million miles an hour.

“You’re just going to have to wait.”

I screw up my face in tears. “You don’t think I should come in?”

“God, no. He doesn’t have time to worry about you too.”

“But I didn’t do this,” I whisper.

“I know. I’ll go up and see him in his office and tell him everything.”

“You will?” I whisper hopefully.

“If you come in, Em, the whole building is going to attack you.”

I put my hands over my face in horror as I imagine everyone waking up to this story this morning. I’m going to be Miles Media’s public enemy number one.

“I’m going to get into work and find out what the hell is going on, and I’ll call you back, okay?” she says.

I nod, my eyes filled with tears. I can’t believe this is happening. “Okay.”

“Go back to your apartment and wait. I’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you,” I whisper as I wait on the line. “Wait, what are you going to say to Jameson?”

“I’m just going to tell him the truth. I’ll call you back in half an hour.”

My shoulders slump. “Okay, thanks.” I hang up.

I walk from my kitchen and back to the living area. I turn and walk back the same route. It’s been forty minutes.

Jameson still isn’t answering his phone, and Molly hasn’t called me back.

What the fucking hell is going on over there?

I text Jameson a message.

Jay

I don’t know what the hell is going on.

That photo is a setup.

You know I love you and would

never do that.

Call me back, please.

I’m freaking out!!!

I throw my phone onto the lounge and continue my pacing. Why isn’t anyone calling me back?

I wait twenty minutes and then text Jameson again. My phone rings, and I scramble to answer it. It’s Molly.

“Hello.”

“Hi.”

“What happened?”

“I couldn’t get in to see him; he was in a meeting with the solicitors,” she whispers. “He’s got bigger things to worry about at the moment, Em. He could go to prison.”

I frown. What? “Oh my God.”

“Management is going nuts down here. I have to get off the phone before I get fired.”

“What?” My eyes fill with tears . . . I didn’t do this. “I could give a rat’s ass about the company right now. I need him to know that I didn’t do anything with Jake. That whole story is bogus.”

“I know. I’ll go back up in my lunch break. But for now, hang tight.”

I put my hand over my mouth as a roll of nausea fills my stomach.

“I’ll call you back as soon as I speak to him.”

I wait on the line, hoping for a miracle answer to come to us.

“Okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, okay,” I whisper before hanging up the call.

I begin to pace once more with a new sense of urgency. What if he believes this?

What if the board believes that he stole the money?

What if he’s charged . . . and goes to prison?

Oh my God. I text him again.

I’m serious.

Call me back NOW!!

I’m losing my mind over here.

Another thirty minutes pass as I continue to pace. I can’t deal with this waiting. I call Molly, and it goes straight to voice mail. I hang up in a fluster and call Aaron. His phone rings out.

“What the actual hell!” I cry through tears. “What’s going on over there?”

I text Jameson again.

Call me now, or I’m coming into the office!!!!!!!!

I’m getting angry, you must know I’m frantic.

My phone rings, and the letter J lights up the screen. I pick up a rush. “Oh my God, Jay.”

“Hi,” he answers, monotone.

“What’s going on?” I whisper. “Jay. I can’t believe the lies. He kissed me once, and I slapped him across the face. I promise you that I’m not seeing that slimeball.”

He stays silent.

A sense of dread fills me. Why is he so quiet? “Jay.”

“You didn’t think to tell me about this?”

“It only happened last night.”

“You said you were with fucking Molly!” he screams.

My eyes fill with tears at the sound of his anger. “I know I did, but he said he had some information about the case, and I knew you wouldn’t want me to meet him alone.”

“I wonder fucking why?” he bellows.

I screw up my face. “Don’t be angry with me,” I whisper. “That picture is . . .” I shake my head as I try to articulate what it is that I want to say. “It’s taken out of context, I promise you.”