I haven't had time to catch up with her about what's been going on, but she knows the gist of how I got D. B. Carter's address from the article.

“I didn’t put this in the story because I didn’t want to mention my party, but Liam was Alex's friend from back in the day. That's why when I came to the house, he invited me in. What he also said was that everything that we were going to talk about was going to be off the record.”

“Holy shit,” Shelby says, putting her hand over her mouth.

It's not until I see her reaction that I realize exactly the depth of the trouble that I'm in.

“You can't do that, Emma. Journalists aren't allowed to do that.”

“I know,” I say, looking down at the floor.

I twirl my thumbs, one over the other, but it just makes my nervousness worse.

“I know that it seems like journalists don't have many rules anymore given that basically people just write articles about what they read on Twitter, but you're going to have a hard time finding a good job if someone finds out about this. There are certain things that are sacred. If he said that what he was going to say to you was off the record, then…”

Her voice trails off. She doesn't need to finish her thought. I know exactly what she's going to say.

“Why did you write this?”

“I went into Corrin’s office and I was just going to tell her that I couldn’t find out who he was. I know that she wanted me to write the story, but I was going to say that I wasn't able to locate him. Then Mr. Matthews was there and they mentioned that the magazine was in real trouble and they really needed a breakthrough story. She kept talking me up and I just… I got in over my head.”

“This is really intense,” Shelby says, sitting down in my chair behind my desk.

I grab a chair from a nearby empty desk and pull it up in front of her.

“It was only supposed to be 2,000 words initially. So, I started writing it from my perspective thinking that I could just end it right before I met him. Mr. Matthews told me they wanted a draft that day. I didn't want to not turn anything in and yet I thought that I would just tell them that everything after this was off the record.”

“I guess it didn't work out that way,” Shelby says and props her head up with one hand taking a long gulp of her wine.

“No, as soon as they read that part, they expanded the word count,” I continue. “And the thing is that Liam did talk to me about writing and all these other things and I had all the content for the perfect article. With depth. It was so much more than I ever did before and it wasn’t just a story about what some celebrity posted on Instagram. This was a real scoop. No one else had the story. I guess a part of me wanted to be the one to break it to the world.”

“I totally get it,” she agrees. “I'm getting tired of rewriting what other people have said on social media. This is definitely quite a story.”

“Maybe it's going to be fine. Maybe it will all work out,” I suggest.

“So, what happened with Liam? How did things end that night?”

I hesitate.

I wonder if I should go into this.

The problem is that I hesitate for too long. Her eyes focus on mine and she reads my expression for the truth.

“He kissed you, didn't he?”

I avert my eyes and shrug, but those are all telltale signs of what I don’t want to admit.

“Oh My God, you slept with him?”

“No, I didn't,” I say quickly. “We kissed. Made out, I guess you could call it that. On the roof of the car.”

I end it there.

A few minutes later, when we go back and join the rest of the party in the conference room, I see a familiar silhouette. When I look closer, I realize that it is Alex.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, walking over to him and grabbing his hand.

He is heavy on his feet and his eyes are glassy. His hair is out of control and uncombed.

“How did you get up here?” I ask.

“Phil, the guard downstairs, is really nice,” he says, slurring his words.

I can smell the liquor on his breath and I try to pull him away from the party before he makes a scene.

“Why did you leave me?” Alex asks. “I'm sorry about Jen, but that's all over.”

I look around, keenly aware of the fact that though most people at the office know that my engagement is off, few of them have actually seen Alex.

He shuffles his feet and again asks me to take him back. All I can think about is how embarrassed I am that he is here.

I have been friendly with a few people here, but none of them know many details about my personal life.

And now they are meeting him like this for the first time?

It doesn’t exactly make me seem professional.

“Alex, you need to go home. Please,” I say in a hushed, but serious, tone.

“I will, I will. I just want to talk to you about this. I haven't been able to sleep in days. I miss you.”

Again, his words come out all jumbled and mispronounced.

Slurred.

He has a very high tolerance for alcohol and I wonder exactly how many glasses of whiskey he has had leading up to this.

I also wonder what spurred him to finally find me.

“Why are you here?” I ask, crossing my arms. “You haven't called me in a week. I told you that I don't want us to work. Just accept that.”

“No, I won't. Relationships aren’t supposed to be perfect anyway, right? Isn't that what they always say?”

“I have no idea who they are. Relationships are always different and, in this case, no, I don't want you to fight for me. There's nothing to fight for. We are over.”

“No, we're not over,” he says, raising his voice. “Jen said that she doesn't want to see me anymore. She said that her family is more important. Well, you are more important than her.”

His girlfriend of five years breaks up with him, dumps him, so he comes crawling back to me.

Of course, he's not here just for me.

“I don't want you back,” I say sternly.

7

Emma

I'm so embarrassed by the fact that Alex is here and yet I can't make him leave. I tried nudging him out into the adjoining hallway away from the conference room, but he doesn't budge.

Instead he keeps telling me about how much he loves me and all the things that he wants to do to make up for what happened.

He apologizes over and over again.

I can't make him stop talking.

I know that he is intoxicated and this is not the time to have this conversation. If he were in his right frame of mind, then he would take no for an answer.

He isn't.

I don't know what to do.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Shelby who is looking at me with a concerned expression. I wave her over while Alex continues to rant.

“Hey, Alex,” Shelby says in a friendly voice. “I know that you two have a lot to talk about, but we're celebrating the release of our latest issue so maybe this isn’t the right time.”

I let out a sigh of relief. This could be the way to get him out of here.

At first, it seems to do the trick. The lines around Alex’s face relax and a serene expression floats to the surface.