The Love Of Money - Episode 212
01-08-25 (08:03)
"Who are you people?" I asked. "Mom, you would've
shot me if I'd brought a girl home!"
"I know," she said. "You just snuck out instead. If I'm
being honest, Jacob wore us down. With Richie, we
decided if he's going to do it anyway, might as well do
it in the safety of our home where' we can make sure
they're safe"
"How progressive of you guys," I said begrudgingly.
"That's what Emily said," Henry chimed in. "Speaking of,
tell her we're sad we missed her."
"Did she never show up?" I asked.
"We haven't seen her," Mom said.
"Strange, but you guys can tell her that tomorrow. Still
want to do dinner?"
"We'll be there," Dad said.
We said our goodbyes, and they left. I picked up
something to sip on from the bar and headed for the
ledge, needing a moment to decompress after making
the rounds of the partygoers. My parents mentioning
Emily reminded me of Natashya's situation, and I
concluded that Emily had decided to stay behind to
keep her company.
Forget me and what I'd suffered at the hands of those
mercenaries. Natashya had been hurt worse than me,
and that was a direct result of Ashlee and whoever she
was trying to reach.
As the night wore on, I became more convinced that it
wasn't her father. I couldn't imagine Roger being so
eager to take his daughter home if he'd been ghosting
her. It had to be Cartwright, but that wasn't enough.
Cartwright had been a goon for my grandpa an
enforcer. I didn't think he was the type to put a plan
together and use other people. Unless I was reading
him completely wrong. Ashlee had been working with
someone else to kidnap me.
"You look deep in thought."
I looked to my right and saw a woman leaning with
her back against the railing next to me, watching me
with brown eyes a shade between honey and wheat.
A thick mane of dark blonde hair hung to the tops of
her shoulders, held back from her face with a few pins
in a simple, hair-down style. She wore a simple,
sleeveless, black cocktail dress that went to her knees.
The neckline plunged but was narrow enough that I
could only see a hint of the slopes of her average-sized
breasts. Her lightly tanned skin showed off a few
freckles on her chest that begged to be traced with a
finger, like playing a game of connect-the-dots. The
dress was far from scandalous, but it was definitely
tantalizing.
Julia Lyons was one of the most famous reporters for
Channel Seven, a New York news station that had
grown so famous that it had become nationally
acclaimed. The innocuous name 'Channel Seven' had
become synonymous with the station throughout most
of the nation... kind of like the singer adopting the
name 'Pink' The last time we met, she interviewed me
about inheriting my grandfather's wealth and gave me
her card in case I ever wanted to talk in more detail. I
hadn't.
"Just enjoying the view," I said.
"It's a good view." She took a sip of whatever she was
drinking and looked back at me, giving me a smile. It
was generous, with ample lips and perfect teeth, and
brought her high cheekbones into more prominence.
She was a talented newscaster and interviewer, but I
suspected her looks had just as much to do with her
rise to fame on the national stage.
"Do you mind if I ask what happened to you last
weekend?" she asked.
I snorted and looked back over the breathtaking New
York night skyline. "It's the weekend. Aren't you off the
clock?"
"A good journalist never stops working." I noticed her
fidget with the ring on her left hand as she said it.
She'd come alone. I wondered if there was a story
there.
"On the record or off?" I asked.
"I'd prefer on, but if you insist, we can go off."
I thought about it for a few moments and shook my
head. "There's a lot of speculation, so might as well set
the record straight. It can be on the record."
Julia simply nodded and took another sip of her cocktail.
"What have you heard so far?" I asked. Don't forget to leave a Comment 
