Page 16 of The Playboy's Playbook

Half of her body is out of the frame, almost as if she wants to blend into the background and not be seen, but that’s impossible. Laila Wright demands to be seen because she’s just that fucking beautiful.

“Senator Mitchell, do you have anything to say to Senator Morrison’s resignation?” the reporter asks.

“It’s not about how I feel or what I have to say about the former Senator. I feel for the young woman who felt that if she came forward with her story about his horrific abuse in the workplace, she wouldn’t have been heard or believed. Her gaining the courage to step forward and say enough is enough should be an indicator to those who at this moment, in whatever they are dealing with, will get the strength to finally free themselves.

“Abuse has no place in this Capitol, especially at the hands of a grown man who waselectedto be a leader and serve the people of this nation. I hope that young lady finds peace, remembers that she is not alone, and there are people in this building that care about her and her well-being. Thank you.”

My eyes follow Laila until the screen changes back to the news reporters and the regular broadcast continues.

“Well, that answers your question on what Laila’s been up to. The girl’s been in D.C. working with the big dogs,” Luke says, pulling me back to reality.

“Yeah, she has,” I say breathlessly.

Laila has always had a bright future – she was SGA vice president, class salutatorian, and not to mention an all-around good girl. Laila was and still is perfection in human form.

Fuck it. I’m not giving up on her. Whatever she hates me for, I’m going to find out and I’m going to make it right.

Whatever it takes.

Chapter Eight

LAILA

Matthew Foster sent you a friend request.

“What in the blue hell?” I shout. Nola prances up to me and jumps into my lap, as if she can sense my confusion. I scratch behind her ears and continue to look at my phone.

A week in Oakridge and I’m already regretting coming home. In the span of the week, I’ve run into Matthew three times at the most random places. Well, besides Brody’s because that’s the local hotspot.

But the rodeo on my first night? The gym where I signed up for a membership for the summer? Now this friend request? If this is a sign from the universe, I need to know what I’m supposed to understand and learn from this.

Being the nosey girl I am, I click on Matthew’s profile and see that he hasn’t updated it in a couple of years. It looks like we have that sentiment in common of keeping most of our personal life off of social media, but even I post a few pictures to show I still exist.

He’s been tagged in several pictures and status updates. Everything seems pretty normal for a twenty-five-year-old posting on social media, but Matthew Foster isn’t a normal twenty-five-year-old.

I know I reached the end of his feed when I see his sister’s posts from her wedding five years ago. Matthew looks completely different in the pictures than he does now.

He was lankier and his beard was in desperate need of a trim. His eyes don’t sparkle, leaving him looking emotionless, like a robot. This isn’t even how he looked in high school, so it’s throwing me off how different he looks.

Against my better judgment, I accept the friend request because Erica asked me to consider being nice to him. So this is me being nice and accepting a friend request. Almost as soon as I press the blue accept button, Matthew sends me a message.

MATTHEW: Hey, Laila

MATTHEW: Thanks for accepting my friend request.

I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me because who the hell thanks someone for accepting a friend request? Nola looks up at me curiously before she returns her attention back to the toy she grabbed.

LAILA: Sure

Three dots appear and disappear for a moment before he sends another message.

MATTHEW: Are you free at any point this week?

LAILA: No

LAILA: Why?

MATTHEW: If you have time in your schedule, would you care to join me for a drink at Brody’s?

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