Page 18 of Investigate Away
She jumped, sloshing her coffee all down the front of her white pajama shirt. “Mother trucker.”
“Yeah. That’s not coming out.”
“Probably not, so let’s be glad I stole this shirt from you.”
He raced inside and quickly returned with a small towel, pressing it against her chest.
She held the half-empty cup to the side and glared at him. “Really? Are you done feeling me up?”
“They’re a little bigger than they used to be.”
Snagging the towel, she twirled it and whipped it at his shoulder. “Asshole.”
“Ouch, that hurt.”
“Good,” she muttered, wishing that she didn’t enjoy the banter. Their relationship had always been one of yin and yang. Tit for tat. Their world views were identical, but how they approached everything couldn’t be more opposite. It made for some pretty intense conversations that turned into passionate lovemaking sessions.
“Guess who managed to get my cell,” she said.
He laughed. “Oh, let me take a wild stab at that one.” He tapped his foot and raised his hand, flicking his index finger against his temple. “The pope?”
“Haha, funny guy.”
He laughed. “I take it you mean Bailey. Did you answer? Respond?”
She shook her head. “She left a message last night at nine thirty, asking me to call her first thing. She wants to meet me for an informal late lunch or early cocktail to discuss the possibility of doing a sit-down interview in the studio about the book.”
“Are you going to meet her?”
Callie took the last sip of coffee and set the mug on the railing. She folded her arms across her chest. The wet shirt clung to her skin, sending a slight shiver across her body. The temperature was in the seventies, which was unseasonably warm for May in Seattle, but she’d enjoy every second of it. In a few hours, things might be gray, misty, and cold, like usual. “I’m planning on it, but I have no intention of doing an on-camera interview. Not now anyway, and not with her.”
“If you did do one, who would it be with?”
“Jackie from Channel 8,” she said without hesitation. In all of Callie’s career, her biggest competition for ratings had been Jackie Cash.
“Wow. She used to drive you crazy.”
“Only when she got the story before I did,” Callie admitted. “Those days are over, but Bailey is a backstabbing bitch and with how she handled the coverage of my sister’s murder and our breakup by putting them up on her social media to use as her first big break into reporting, well, I don’t want to give her shit. Jackie and I were always professional with each other.”
“Yeah, Jackie’s not so bad.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I took her out a few months ago.”
“I never needed to know that,” Callie said.
“Then maybe you don’t want to know I also took out Bailey.”
“Gross.” She held her stomach. “Why would you do that? Jackie I can maybe understand. But Bailey?”
“Yeah. She was a mistake. Rebound to get over you. But Jackie was different.”
“I don’t want to hear this.”
“Are you jealous?” He winked.
“Maybe a little, but only because they are both in the same profession, and before you and I hooked up, you used to say, and I quote, ‘Reporters and journalists are the devil. Wait. Nope. They are worse. They are the armpit of the earth.’”
He burst out laughing. “I did say that. And if it makes you feel any better, the date with Jackie didn’t even get off the ground. We ordered drinks and an appetizer, and before we ordered a meal, she was like, you’re a jerk.”
“What did you do? Make some sexist joke?” She shook her head. “I’ve never understood why you do that when you’re really the furthest thing from a misogynistic pig.”
