On the Run (Whispering Key #2) - May Archer Page 0,76

with you, okay?

I trust you, Beale.

I trust you, Beale.

I trust you, Beale.

Except he didn’t. He hadn’t.

Not with this.

And what’s more, he’d lied.

He knew—knew—that Jayd had been part of my family. He knew Jayd was someone I cared about, and he’d kept the whole thing from me.

He’d let me fall for him… and he’d played me.

You’re smart, Beale. No one has the right to make you feel less than.

The irony was bitter. No offhanded comment from anyone in this town had ever made me

feel as foolish as Toby had.

“Beale?” Gage frowned up at me, phone still pressed to his ear, which was when I noticed that I’d stood up. “You okay?”

“Yeah, good. Never better. I’m gonna let you two deal with this. I need to go—”

I nodded toward the door, and then I headed in that direction without waiting for a reply.

“Wait.” Rafe hurried after me and caught my wrist. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, and you’re not leaving until you talk to me. If you’re pissed at Jayd, nobody gets that better than I do, okay? Tell me—”

“No!” I yelled way louder than I’d intended to, shaking off Rafe’s restraining hand. “Just let me go, okay?”

All eyes in the place turned toward me, and I knew what they were thinking. Beale Goodman didn’t lose his temper. Beale Goodman never physically intimidated anyone. Beale Goodman was careful to use his words.

But Beale Goodman had never felt the way I currently felt either. Like I’d been fooled and betrayed. Like anger and helplessness were bubbling inside me, and I was coming out of my skin—

“I’ll see you guys later.” I turned and slammed my way out the door.

—like all the words in the Universe wouldn’t be enough to explain things, let alone fix them.

13

Toby

Help Me Hagatha

(Unsent)

Dear Aunt Hagatha:

I lied to my boyfriend and I feel like shit. Do I come clean, or—?

Still Me in Whispering Key

Dear Me,

You don’t actually have a boyfriend, Toby. Probably because you lie to people. This is why we can’t have nice things.

Consider a new career, maybe, and stock up on ice cream,

Other-Toby

“Trey, I laid out all the chafing dishes under the tent and labeled them, just like you suggested.” Maddie McKetcham, who’d declared herself my party-planning protégé, bounced on the balls of her feet and made her ponytail sway.

“Excellent.” I jotted this down on my clipboard. “Who’s hanging the bunting?”

“Me,” Juju Irvine yelled from a ladder. “I threaded it with the twinkle lights, just like you said.”

“Perfect.” I checked off a box. “Alright, coolers—”

“Got ’em, boss,” Littlejohn said, coming out of the guesthouse with two giant bags of ice. “Cleaned and filled.”

“Wow. You guys are doing gr—”

My phone rang, and I winced when I saw Jeanette’s name on the display.

Some idiot had possibly—misguidedly—called in to work this morning after Beale left, hoping for a casual chat with my editor so I could see whether HiWire had gotten any closer to connecting Tattooed Tommy from the tabloids to real-life me, and had possibly—also misguidedly—left my new phone number on her voicemail. She’d called back almost immediately, but in the intervening period I’d had a quick panic attack and realized I didn’t really want to know what anyone knew, so I’d declined the call.

It was too much to hope that she’d give up easily, though.

“Hey, Trey,” Littlejohn said, jogging over. “I don’t want to freak you out, but I think we have a problem.”

“Okay?”

“We’ve got the food tables.”

“Yes.”

“And the gift table.”

“Under the tent in case of rain. Right.”

“And we have a table for the drinks.”

“Yep. With you so far. What’s the problem?”

“Two words, man.” He looked at me expectantly.

“Am I supposed to guess them? Is this… charades?”

“Trey, man.” He motioned with his two hands like he was showing me the future. “Body. Shots.”

I blinked, tilted my head, then blinked some more. “No, sorry. Still not getting it.”

“You know, where people lie down, and…”

“I’m familiar with the concept, LJ.” From college bars, mostly.

“Well, where are we setting them up? Or is this like… a body shot free-for-all?” He snorted like he couldn’t imagine such a thing.

Before I could answer, Jeanette called again, and my heart rate spiked as I declined the call. Two calls in two minutes? Not good.

“I… really don’t know what the body shot protocol here is, LJ, but in general, I think housewarmings are a non-body-shot occasion in most parts of the world, but—shit,” I muttered as Jeanette called a third time.

“Everything cool, Trey?” LJ frowned.

I silenced my phone and gave Littlejohn a smile. “Yeah,