Because of You

~ Chapter Two ~

"Forget it."

"What? Alex is an accomplished investigative journalist. He would be a great partner for you."

"I don't need a partner, George. And I certainly don't need your arrogant nephew lording over me at every turn."

"Alex isn't arrogant."

She eyed him flatly.

"Okay, so he's a bit arrogant," he conceded with a smile. "But he's got good reason to be. He's a walking catalog of accomplishments. He's got a Hillman, an RFK, and a bloody Polk for god's sake."

"Like I said, arrogant."

"Try talented."

"Hmph."

"C'mon! He's done every type of investigative reporting there is. He's even been in situations like yours."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means he's had the shit kicked out of him for a story and lived to tell the tale and write about it. You know the work he's been doing for the past two years exposing the carnage drug cartels are leaving in their wake in South America? From what I gather he's been roughed up and shot at a couple times, and even taken hostage once. And that's just the stuff he's told me about."

"So, you're saying he's reckless and arrogant. Got it."

George sighed with exasperation. "What I'm saying is that if anyone can help you figure this out – without going to the police as you so ridiculously insist – it's him."

He popped himself off the aged sofa and went back over to his tornado-like, paper strewn desk and retrieved his cell phone after searching for it under multiple sticky notes and old news editions. Without asking for her permission, he started making swiping and tapping motions on the device with his sausage-like thumbs, intent on some silent undertaking that sent her irritation soaring.

He was so absorbed in his task he didn't see her reach across the desk and snatch the phone from his grasp. When he gave her a castigating look and held out his hand to reclaim his property, she held it close to her chest.

"No! Stop it, George! I don't need Alex's help because I'm not investigating this mugging, and I'm not writing any story about it either. And even if I were interested, I'd never be interested in writing it with him."

He cocked his brow curiously and thrust his hand forward a second time. "Give me my phone, Tulip."

She clutched the object even more tightly. "Not until you promise me whatever you're telling Alex you'll take back."

George smirked. "Not until you tell me why you have such hate for the man. You always seemed to get along. Hell, I thought maybe there was even something going on with you two."

The golden flecks at the centre of Tulip's dappled blue eyes lit up as if fireworks had exploded behind them. She felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment, and she suddenly hoped there was enough bruising on her face to hide the fact.

"There's nothing between us."

"Bullshit. Why are you blushing then?" he challenged.

Shit.

"Spill it, Tuli."

Tulip took a deep breath to collect herself and instantly regretted it. Lightning radiated through her chest from her left side and she cringed, triggering a different round of painful sensations in her face.