Page 66 of How to Play the Player
“And me,” I add. “It could be anyone.”
A contemplative silence falls between us as we consider the possible connections. But nothing seems to stick.
“We should compile a list,” I suggest. Everyone who had access to both sets of information. At some point, we should come across a wrinkle.”
“I agree.” Nathan hesitates, then adds, “I’ve asked our head of security to continue investigating. He’s looking into connections we might have missed.”
“Good. But I want to be involved in every step of the investigation,” I insist.
“I want you to be.” He meets my gaze steadily.
The sincerity in his voice is something I haven’t heard in such a long time, it catches me off guard. I can’t help but look away, uncomfortable with the emotions it stirs. Part of me wants to trust him again, to believe he’s truly sorry, but past hurts make me hesitate. I could eventually forgive him if we get past this. But I don’t think I could ever forget, much less believe he won’t falsely accuse me of something whenever he doesn’t get his way.
“It’s getting late,” I say, glancing at my watch. “I should head home. It’s been…a day.”
Nathan nods, beginning to gather his materials. “Of course. I’ve taken up enough of your time.”
As he packs up his laptop, a question forms in my mind that I can’t quite suppress. “If you’d found evidence confirming I was guilty instead of all this, would you have shown me? Or would you have just used it against me?”
He stops, looking up at me with an expression that seems genuinely pained. “Honestly? I don’t know. Before today, before really looking into all of this…” He gestures to the evidencespread between us. “I probably would have used it to push you away from my family. To protect them.” He pauses. “But now? I’d like to think I would’ve been fair and aware enough to at least confront you directly.”
Even though it hurts, I appreciate his transparency. “Thank you for that, at least.”
Standing, the room suddenly feels too small, every molecule of air between us weighted with all the things left unsaid.
“I’ll text you tomorrow,” Nathan says, carrying his bag over his shoulder. “We can start putting together that list of suspects then.”
I nod, keeping a careful distance as I walk him to the door. “I’ll be in early. And theDallas Lifestylepiece should be ready for final approval by nine tonight.”
He pauses at the threshold, turning back to face me. For a moment, I think he might reach for me, but his hands remain at his sides. “Quinn,” he says softly. “I know words are not, and probably never will be, enough. But I am truly sorry for everything I put you through. For not giving you the benefit of the doubt when I should have.”
The sincerity in his voice makes my throat tighten. My head and my heart are at odds. My head says to get this done and never see his face again, taking this closure with me while I still can. But my heart? My heart wants to run back to him, even if that means the possibility of getting burned again. I don’t know what to do. “Good night, Nathan.”
After he leaves, I lock the door behind him and lean against it, finally allowing the emotions I’ve been suppressing all day to surface. Tears stream down my face, as I can no longer hold them back.
I move to my desk and sink into my chair, staring at the space where Nathan’s evidence had been spread out. Someone wants to ruin my life—and just about succeeded last year. Someonewanted to destroy my relationship with Nathan, and now they’ve come back for round two, this time at the expense of Nathan’s family and Knight Industries.
Who would do something like this? Why?
The questions swirl in my mind as I gather my things to leave. Who the hell did I piss off then and now? What is their endgame? Whatever the answers, I plan to figure this out. Not just for my own innocence, but also to protect Jonathan and Kiera from further harm.
And maybe, foolishly, to finally put the ghosts of my relationship with Nathan to rest once and for all. Whether that means finding a way forward together or going our separate ways, I don’t know. But for once, I can finally look forward to tomorrow.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Thursday morning
Quinn
Iarrive at work early, determined to get a head start on our investigation. My office building is quiet; most businesses in the building won’t open for another hour. This solitude is exactly what I need. It gives me time to think, to process everything that happened yesterday.
My desk looks exactly as I left it, despite the memory of yesterday morning. I’d spent half the night in bed making notes, creating a timeline for both leaks, trying to identify connections. My notepad is now filled with names; question marks fill more of the space than arrows—a chaotic reflection of my thoughts.
As I was doing that, I got a text from Jonathan saying theDallas Lifestylepiece came back to them for final approval. After looking at it and suggesting edits of their own, they’d sent it back. And from what I’d read this morning when the story broke, it was exactly what we all wanted—warm, authentic, focusingon their love story while tactfully avoiding any mention of the scandal. I anticipate it’ll shift the narrative significantly once it gains more traction.
I boot up my laptop, which groans in protest with its now familiar buffering before reluctantly coming to life. The screen flickers twice before eventually stabilizing. I swear, this thing is on its last legs.
“C’mon, work with me,” I mutter to the machine, opening a spreadsheet where I’ve started cataloging everyone who had access to both sets of information.
