❛ You tell me your problems-have I become one of your problems? ❜
Georgia Hardtford is an up and coming journalist, but when task with what seems like the impossible-destroy Rupert Campbell-Blacks reputation-she struggles to draw the line between he...
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The day after the Vereker party was a blur of exhaustion, confusion, and a lingering sense of unease. Gege sat at her desk, staring at the untouched pile of papers that had accumulated in the hours she'd been away from the office. Her head was still swirling with the events of the night before. Rupert's piercing gaze, the cryptic words he'd left hanging in the air, and the unsettling feeling that she was being led down a path she wasn't entirely prepared to walk.
As she shuffled through the papers, her fingers brushed against a note—a simple, folded piece of paper with her name written in Henry's slanted scrawl. She opened it and read:
Gege, I'll be away for the week, but I expect news from you when I return. Don't disappoint me. - Henry
The weight of the note settled like a stone in her stomach. It was typical of Henry to be vague, but the implication was clear: he wanted progress, and he wanted it fast. She had nothing to show him yet, nothing concrete, and that was a problem.
She tossed the note aside and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples. The case with Rupert had felt like a dead end, like she was circling around something that eluded her at every turn. What had she even learned from the party? That Rupert was smooth, charming, and deeply skilled at keeping secrets. Not much to go on.
As she sat there, lost in her thoughts, she heard footsteps approaching. She didn't need to look up to know who it was. Colin's soft shuffle and the almost hesitant knock on her cubicle's partition gave him away every time.
"Hey, Georgia," Colin said, his voice as awkward as usual, but there was a note of curiosity in his tone. "How was the party? You look... well, you look like you've been through a storm."
Gege chuckled dryly, her fingers tapping on the edge of her desk. "It wasn't exactly a whirlwind of fun, if that's what you mean."
Colin leaned against the partition, not quite sitting but close enough to show he wanted to talk. "What happened? I thought you were going to get some dirt on Rupert. Any luck?"
Her deflation was palpable. Gege sighed, her head falling into her hands for a moment as she considered how to explain the mess of a night. "Honestly, Colin, I don't know. It felt like I was chasing ghosts. Rupert was charming, aloof... He practically invited me to play his game. But there was nothing solid. No one at that party seemed to know anything, and I got the sense I'm missing something big. Something he's keeping well hidden."
Colin nodded thoughtfully, but he didn't seem surprised. "He's good at that," he said quietly. "Rupert's always been able to keep things under wraps. That's part of his appeal, you know? People like him because they think they know him, but really, he's got so many layers, you can't get close enough to scratch the surface."
Gege looked up at him, frustration mingling with her tiredness. "So, what's the point of all of this, Colin? Henry's not going to like that I've come up with nothing. He expects results."
