The Delivery Girl

46. Handwriting

Julie

"Are you coming?" I ask as I grab my phone and notebook.

Callen looks up from his laptop, his mind clearly elsewhere. He blinks a few times. "Uh... for what?"

I frown. "The interns' Q&A panel. Did Hayley not put it in your calendar?" Maybe Hayley and I should talk about me managing Callen's calendar instead.

He groans and presses the button on his desk phone. "Hayley, why isn't the panel on my calendar?"

"Since when do you go to those?" she scoffs.

He doesn't bother answering and gives me a sheepish shrug. "You head down first, I need to finish up this email."

I nod, brushing past Jacob outside the door as I leave the office. He gets up from his seat and begins following me. I stop. "Oh, Callen isn't coming yet."

He nods in understanding but continues following me anyway.

Weird.

Jacob usually only shadows Callen, trailing ten or fifteen feet behind. Quiet and discreet. But he's closer now, practically tailgating me. It's not normal, like he's guarding me or something.

I choose not to acknowledge it. He's Callen's bodyguard, it's not my place to argue or give him orders.

–

The small presentation room is already buzzing by the time I enter. Four panelists sit at the long table up front. Hayley invited them, not me. Her connections run deep in the industry. I only recognize three of them, all famous photographers Callen has worked with in one way or another. I try to make out the name on the table card of the fourth.

Nadine Neil

There's something familiar about her name. I scour my memory until something clicks.

She's Callen's ex.

The girl Ivan had told me about. The one who supposedly had her reputation destroyed after breaking up with Callen, now working at a convenience store.

Except, she doesn't look like someone whose lost anything. She's stunning in a polished, effortless looking way. Elegant clothing, perfect makeup, soft confidence. I can see why Callen dated her. I quickly shake away any more encroaching thoughts, shifting my attention to the interns.

"Hey everyone," I say, addressing the group. "We're going to start in a bit. I'm handing out some blank flash cards. Write any questions you have for our panelists and leave them at the front once you're done."

I slip into a seat by the side. Jacob takes a seat right next to me, but I pretend not to notice. On my other side is Isabella. We haven't spoken since lunch on the very first day of the program. She fidgets with the card, not having written anything yet.

"Hey Isabella," I say quietly. "How's it going?"

She startles before smiling nervously. "Good, just trying to figure out what to write," she says while fidgeting with her pen. "I normally find it tough to vocalize my thoughts."

I wait. It seems like she's not done.

She lets out a nervous laugh before continuing. "But it's a lot easier to be honest when it's anonymous, you know?"

There's something about her words, her tone, that make goosebumps prickle my skin, but I keep my expression neutral. "Yeah... I get that."

She looks at me curiously, but her eyes don't meet mine. "I guess sometimes it just feels like it's the most effective way to say what needs to be said."