named Niles who drives a black car,” said Crystal.
The secretary confirmed Niles’s identity as well as his license plate and appearance. “Alright, thanks,” said Crystal. “How much is it to Seattle?”
“Five hundred dollars one way,” said the secretary. “We take credit, don’t worry.”
Crystal’s stomach fell more. “Alright, thanks.” She hung up the phone.
“So what’ll it be?” asked Niles.
“I’m going to Seattle,” said Crystal. “I can pay now or when we get there.”
“Payment’s on delivery,” joked Niles. “Hop in.”
Crystal got in the car. It was a nicer car than she’d expect to find in Port Jameson. She gave Niles her exact address and Niles put the radio on, to a soft alt-rock station, and while Niles hummed along, she texted with Tangie, who agreed to meet her at her apartment for drinks, before she took a nap.
Crystal woke up about four hours later, shaken softly by the cabbie. “Miss, we’re at your destination,” said Niles.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I fell asleep,” said Crystal.
“Hey, it’s your ride,” said Niles. “Do you need help with your bags?”
“No, I’m fine,” said Crystal, rummaging through her bag for her credit card.
“There’s no need for that,” said Niles.
“What do you mean? The lady on the phone said the ride would be five hundred dollars,” said Crystal.
“Mandy? Oh, she was supposed to say that,” said Niles. “Truth is, your ride was arranged and paid for by uh...an anonymous benefactor.”
“Damien?” asked Crystal.
“I can neither confirm nor deny that Mr. Dixon paid my company, or, uh, whether or not he owns it...” said Niles. “But I can say that whoever paid for your ride must’ve cared an awful lot about you getting to Seattle safely, given that they picked the most expensive bulletproof car in the fleet, as well as a driver with extensive military training.”
“Of course,” said Crystal. “Well, you can let my anonymous benefactor know that I got here in one piece. Do I get to tip you or?”
“Trust me, it’s been more than taken care of,” said Niles with a laugh. “But you might want to be the one that calls your uh, anonymous benefactor, to give him the good news yourself.”
“Is everyone from Port Jameson a frikkin’ matchmaker? Thanks Niles, I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you again,” said Crystal
“You crazy kids’ll figure it out,” said Niles, pulling Crystal in to give her a big hug, before grabbing her bag and carrying it upstairs for her. “I know how your uh, ‘friend’, can be, but trust me, he means well.”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Crystal. “I’ll think about calling him.”
“That’s all I need, for you to think on it,” said Niles. “Bye, kid, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”
Crystal headed in to her apartment and dropped her stuff off. She texted Tangie to let her know she’d gotten to Seattle in one piece, and then, finally, was able to take a long shower and think about the bomb that had been dropped on her. Damien Michaels was really Damien Dixon, billionaire, but even though she was a Seattle journalist, Crystal had been more focused on hard-hitting exposes than documenting every last move of Seattle’s most eligible bachelor bears, so she knew next to nothing, other than that, given his name, Damien was probably a member of the Asher-Dixon Clan, the biggest lumber bear clan in the country, if not the world.
She got out of the shower and toweled off, before heading to her room to change into pajamas. As she changed, she noticed her laptop, on the desk where she left it, and once she got changed, she walked over, opened the lid, and went to a search engine to type in the name that had been blasted in her head nonstop since she first read it on the image: Damien Dixon. She typed in the whole name, but before she clicked the search button, she held back. This wasn’t something she could undo: if she clicked that button, she’d learn everything
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