Page 89 of Bloom

When we finally emerge from his room, I see that I’ve missed two calls from Corinne in NYC. We’ve texted occasionally this summer, but nothing more, so two calls can only mean one thing. Something has happened, or is about to happen.

She doesn’t bother with greetings. “You need to watch your back.”

“What do you mean?” I breathe. This can’t be good.

“There was some PR thing going on before, you know, to fix Edward's image? But then all morning today, there’ve been people in his office, freaking out. His publicist was there before I came in. And I heard someone say he’s giving interviews today. Which is weird since he hasn’t said a word up ‘til now.”

“Well, can’t that only help me?” I ask. “I mean, he’s probably going to say there was nothing going on, right?”

She hesitates. “Some stuff was leaked.”

“What stuff?” I huff in exasperation. “Nothing happened.”

“Don’t shoot the messenger.”

“Fine. What stuff?”

“Someone on his staff leaked that he had a guest coming to the Hamptons that weekend after you left — and they were only supposed to get the master bedroom ready.”

“But that could have been anybody.”

“Yes, but everyone is saying it was you. And that’s not all. There have been some leaks from inside the office. Someone claimed that you played up to Edward and he let you do things no one else got to do. Did he really promise you air time?”

I groan. “Possibly.”

“Well, someone overheard it. And they told the press that everyone knew you were a couple.”

I hang up and my shoulders sag. Edward Ferris is beginning to feel like a problem that’s never going away. James comes up behind me, rubbing my shoulders and planting a kiss on my head. “What’s up?”

“More drama,” I sigh, and tell him what Corinne said.

“God, Elle,” he says, “If this is happening because I made you go to the police … ”

“It’s not,” I say. “And you didn’t. I’m a big girl. I could have said no if I disagreed. I didn’t want to go, but I knew you were right.”

It’s out of my control, and putting it out of mind is easy to do, because to finally be with James, publicly, is thrilling. Second only to the thrill of ending up with him at all. To hold his hand when we walk or to feel his fingers grazing my back when we’re on the beach. Or to spend huge blocks of time just lying in bed with him in the middle of the day. Even Ginny — who avoids me and acts like I’m a stranger if we’re in the same room – can’t ruin it.

“Have I told you how happy I am that you’re staying down here?” he asks, climbing into his bed, where I already wait.

“Once or twice,” I smile. “It makes me wish we could start the whole summer over.”

He brushes my hair off my face. “We have lots of summers ahead of this one.”

**

We’re just walking in the door when I get a call from my father. We haven’t spoken once since the credit card incident.

“I need to discuss something very important with you,” he says.

“That you’re getting married?” I sigh. If that’s why he’s calling, it feels a little late to make amends. I move toward the deck and James motions that he’ll give me my privacy, but I grab his hand and bring him with me.

“Well, yes, that’s important too, but that’s not it.”

“Were you planning to tell me?”

“Of course I was,” he says, as if I’m being tiresome. “But this is about my job.”

Of course it is. Someone ought to warn Holly that his upcoming wedding falls such a distant second to his job status.