Page 14 of Deal with the Devil
I don’t let myself look over my shoulder even once as I prematurely make my way home from the Dominion Gala, fully aware I’m skipping out on work and could incur the wrath of Joe Germanotta. But he never calls and neither does anyone else from the American News Channel.
…neither does Rafael. He lets me go, clearly deciding to take me at my word as I make my escape.
Every word I’ve said is true—it’s time he sticks to his world and I stick to mine.
We gave our relationship a try and it turned out to be a mess. He broke my heart not once but twice, and I can’t ever let it happen a third time.
I lock the door to my apartment, feeling as if I’m doing more than securing my home. I’m securing my heart too. I’m protecting myself from Rafael and whatever other forces from the past might be coming for me.
Stepping out of my heels, I move from the hall into my bedroom with a hot shower on my mind. My phone buzzes on my bed as I’m turning on the water and grabbing a towel from the linen closet.
It’s the same damn unknown number.
I sigh and consider blocking the person, but then I read what the message says.
are you meeting me tomorrow?
I shake my head, finger hovering over the block button. At the last second I change my mind and type a response instead.
You won’t even tell me who you are. How can I know I can trust you?
its a risk we’re both taking
i’ll be there tomorrow
10 am
smithsonian
i’ll bring the proof with me
I don’t know what else to say except to ‘thumb up’ the message. But as I stare down at it, I realize I’ve had a sudden change of mind. I’m not going to block the number. I’m going to go ahead and take a chance.
I’m going to show Joe Germanotta, Chuck Whitmore, and the others that they’re wrong.
The Belluccis are in DC, and I’m going to prove it.
4
PORTIA
The second Joeanswers the phone, I’m coughing on the other end.
“I’m sorry to call you like this,” I sputter between coughs. “But I’m going to have to take a sick day. I’ve caught a bug.”
“You don’t sound too hot,” he says, sighing. “My wife did mention something going around at my son’s school. It must be worse than I thought.”
I cough a few more times. “I’ve got a temperatureandthe chills. It’s definitely nothing to sneeze at.”
“Well… guess that means you and Barry’ll be out today. Do you need anything, sweetheart?”
Before I can even respond, he’s cutting me off, mentioning his other line. The call drops, and I’m left listening to the dial tone, reminded once again why I’ve come to hate life working for Primetime DC.
I reallyshouldexpect it at this point.
A network like ANC and people like Joe Germanotta only care about optics. If you can’t do anything for their reputation or to curry them favor, then they don’t give a fuck about you.
But in this case, Joe’s lack of attentiveness works in my favor.
