The Man I Thought I Trusted - E. L. Todd Page 0,83

she could have died…and I would have died. It made me realize how much I loved her, how deep that love really went.

“I don’t either. But I think we need to work on damage control, regaining the public’s trust—”

Carson stepped inside my office but stilled when she realized Renee was there. “I’ll just wait outside—”

“Sweetheart, come here.” She could walk into my office whenever the hell she wanted.

She hesitated before she came inside and approached us. She looked uncertain, like she’d just heard the news. “I’m sorry about—”

Renee hugged her tightly. “I’m so glad you’re alright. What a fucking nightmare.” She rubbed Carson’s back before she pulled away.

Carson looked visibly surprised, like she didn’t expect affection. “Thank you.” She turned to me next. “Vince told me the news when I submitted my article. I’m sorry that this has happened to you.”

My arm moved around her waist, and I pulled her in for a kiss. “I couldn’t care less, Carson.”

She melted right before my eyes, like my sister wasn’t standing there. “I stepped down. I’ll be back to my other position.”

We hadn’t even had a conversation about it. I knew she would do it on her own.

“And my last article will be my legacy—and it’ll be a good one.”

I kissed her forehead and pulled away.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Is everything okay here? That’s a lot of money.”

Renee shrugged. “Not really. That’s not what we’re most concerned about.”

Carson turned to me. “What are you most concerned about?”

“Sales,” I answered. “Trust from our customers. Our brand going forward.”

“But you did it to save my life,” she whispered. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

I shrugged. “That’s not what people hear. They just see the headline that I broke the law.”

She dropped her chin and considered what I said, her eye still slightly discolored but almost back to normal. “I have an idea.” She lifted her chin again. “I’ll write another editorial about you, about how you did everything you could to save my life…because we’re in love.”

“Would your editor let you run an article like that?” Renee asked in surprise.

“Oh, my editor will let me print whatever the hell I want,” Carson said. “It’s not something we usually do, but I think it’ll bring the spotlight on to your heroic actions rather than your criminal activity, and you’ll be more popular than you were before.”

“I think that sounds like a great idea.” Renee turned to me. “What do you think?”

My eyes were on Carson, a soft smile on my lips. “I love it.”

Carson’s belongings had been returned to the penthouse. Her makeup was on my bathroom counter, her panties on my bedroom floor because she never put them in the hamper, not that I minded in the least, and there was always a cord across the bedroom floor because she constantly needed to charge her laptop since she used it every second of the day.

Life was good.

Simon Prescott wasn’t granted bail, so he wasn’t going anywhere.

Carson’s article was revolutionary, exposing the conspiracy between the biggest pharmaceutical company and a government agency that was supposed to keep us all safe from horrible shit like that.

It was a great way for her to move on.

Like when Peyton Manning won his last Super Bowl then retired.

I was proud of her beyond belief—but also grateful that it was over.

I would never have to worry about her again.

Our lives could be simple now, just two people in love who went to work every day and came home to each other, with game nights on the weekends, basketball on Wednesdays, absorbing her friends as my own.

I was happy.

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped inside the penthouse.

Carson immediately jumped off the couch and moved into my arms. “Hey.” Her arms wrapped around my neck, and she kissed me, kissed me like we’d been apart for eight weeks instead of eight hours. “Guess what?”

“What?” I smiled as I looked down at her, the woman who was my whole world.

“My article came out today.” She moved away and grabbed the paper sitting on the couch.

“About the prime minister?”

“No. No one cares about that.” She held up the paper, and on the front page was the headline. How Clydesdale Software Saved My Life.

I took the paper from her hand and started to read.

“As a reporter for the New York Press, my life has been on the line more times than I can count. But as a cat with nine lives, I’ve always managed to slip away.

But not this time.

Simon Prescott continued