the freight elevator. When the doors closed, I clutched my purse to my chest, desperate to get out of there. I couldn’t help but wonder how he got into my apartment? Had he gone in my purse to get my keys? Or was he skilled enough to get in there without needing any? I had a feeling it was the latter.
" I'm sorry, Emily. Next time, I'll make sure to have your permission," Robbins said, his voice clearly regretful.
" There won't be a next time," I said through gritted teeth.
" Yes, ma'am."
The elevator doors opened and I followed Robbins to the rear exit door that opened up to an alley at the back of the building. There were no reporters or paparazzi in either direction.
" Would you like me to follow you to the closest train station or to your office?"
" No, I'll be fine."
" Go this way." He pointed to the right. "Take a left at the end of the alley, and it will take you to Saint Street. There's a train station a couple blocks up."
I put on my sunglasses, pulled the hood of my trench coat over my head, and started down the alley. The vulnerability and fear of what had happened in the past twelve hours hit me harder than I expected it to. The anger I had felt this morning was starting to subside. Now, I was becoming overwhelmed with fear. Fear of what would be printed in the newspapers and magazines this morning. Fear of how this would all change the life I had tried to build here.
By the time I got to my office, I was twenty minutes late. To make matters worse, when I rounded the corner, I saw a mob of reporters standing outside the building.
" You've got to be kidding me," I muttered, leaning against the brick building beside me. I couldn't imagine what was going on in the office right now or how angry Sharon was that there was a mob of people standing outside… probably all asking questions about me. I dug through my purse, pulled out my phone, and dialed. Isabel picked up on the first ring.
" Hey, it's Emily."
" Emily?" she whispered. “What the heck is going on? The front door is swarming with reporters. They're asking all sorts of questions about you."
" I know. I can see it." I peeked around the corner again. "Is there a back door to the building?"
" Um, yeah, we sometimes get deliveries back there."
" Okay, can you go open it? I'll be there in a minute."
Hanging up the phone, I backed up and leaned against the brick building I was hiding behind. What the hell have I gotten myself into? This wasn’t good for anyone, but for me, this could be really, really bad. Not only was I trying to keep a low profile, I was also trying to start a new life. I needed this job. It was just a couple days ago that I started to feel like I was going to have one for a while, but now, I wasn't so sure.
Isabel was at the back door, waiting for me, and luckily, there were no reporters or paparazzi in sight. Once I was safely inside, I removed my glasses and took off the hood.
" Holy shit, Emily. It's madness out there."
" I know." I shook my head.
" Sharon is freaking out."
" Come on," I said. "I need to go talk to her."
I hurried down the hall, finding Sharon standing in the lobby next to Isabel's desk.
When Sharon spotted me, her eyes grew wide. "What the hell is this, Emily?"
Christine was standing behind her. I was surprised she didn't have a huge grin on her face. The next words I expected out of Sharon's mouth were, "You're fired."
Swallowing hard, I just came out and said it. "I'm friends with Lexi Adams. You guys probably know her as Lexi Alexander. And all of this"—I gestured toward the front of the building—“is because of the Black and White event. They're digging up the old news and…" I sighed, feeling defeated. "I went out with Reed and Lexi the other night and then with Reed again last night. The press saw me, but I have no idea how they got my name or where I worked."
Sharon's gaze moved from me to Christine, turning into a full-on glare. I wondered why I wasn't getting that look.
" You're
" I'm sorry, Emily. Next time, I'll make sure to have your permission," Robbins said, his voice clearly regretful.
" There won't be a next time," I said through gritted teeth.
" Yes, ma'am."
The elevator doors opened and I followed Robbins to the rear exit door that opened up to an alley at the back of the building. There were no reporters or paparazzi in either direction.
" Would you like me to follow you to the closest train station or to your office?"
" No, I'll be fine."
" Go this way." He pointed to the right. "Take a left at the end of the alley, and it will take you to Saint Street. There's a train station a couple blocks up."
I put on my sunglasses, pulled the hood of my trench coat over my head, and started down the alley. The vulnerability and fear of what had happened in the past twelve hours hit me harder than I expected it to. The anger I had felt this morning was starting to subside. Now, I was becoming overwhelmed with fear. Fear of what would be printed in the newspapers and magazines this morning. Fear of how this would all change the life I had tried to build here.
By the time I got to my office, I was twenty minutes late. To make matters worse, when I rounded the corner, I saw a mob of reporters standing outside the building.
" You've got to be kidding me," I muttered, leaning against the brick building beside me. I couldn't imagine what was going on in the office right now or how angry Sharon was that there was a mob of people standing outside… probably all asking questions about me. I dug through my purse, pulled out my phone, and dialed. Isabel picked up on the first ring.
" Hey, it's Emily."
" Emily?" she whispered. “What the heck is going on? The front door is swarming with reporters. They're asking all sorts of questions about you."
" I know. I can see it." I peeked around the corner again. "Is there a back door to the building?"
" Um, yeah, we sometimes get deliveries back there."
" Okay, can you go open it? I'll be there in a minute."
Hanging up the phone, I backed up and leaned against the brick building I was hiding behind. What the hell have I gotten myself into? This wasn’t good for anyone, but for me, this could be really, really bad. Not only was I trying to keep a low profile, I was also trying to start a new life. I needed this job. It was just a couple days ago that I started to feel like I was going to have one for a while, but now, I wasn't so sure.
Isabel was at the back door, waiting for me, and luckily, there were no reporters or paparazzi in sight. Once I was safely inside, I removed my glasses and took off the hood.
" Holy shit, Emily. It's madness out there."
" I know." I shook my head.
" Sharon is freaking out."
" Come on," I said. "I need to go talk to her."
I hurried down the hall, finding Sharon standing in the lobby next to Isabel's desk.
When Sharon spotted me, her eyes grew wide. "What the hell is this, Emily?"
Christine was standing behind her. I was surprised she didn't have a huge grin on her face. The next words I expected out of Sharon's mouth were, "You're fired."
Swallowing hard, I just came out and said it. "I'm friends with Lexi Adams. You guys probably know her as Lexi Alexander. And all of this"—I gestured toward the front of the building—“is because of the Black and White event. They're digging up the old news and…" I sighed, feeling defeated. "I went out with Reed and Lexi the other night and then with Reed again last night. The press saw me, but I have no idea how they got my name or where I worked."
Sharon's gaze moved from me to Christine, turning into a full-on glare. I wondered why I wasn't getting that look.
" You're
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