Page 195 of Right Man, Right Time
Napkins from the bar.
Another picture of us from one of the events we went to together. I found it online and printed it out.
Agitators paraphernalia.
A business card from . . .
I stare down at the business card, remembering when I got this. We were at the sponsor event for Silas, and I was trying to break him by fondling him all night. But there was a break in my pursuit to drive him crazy. That was when we spoke to JP Cane and Ryot Bisley . . . the owner of The Jock Report.
JP handed me his card in case I could help him with his charities.
I rub my lips together and once again swipe at my eyes as an idea forms in my head.
I grab my phone from the nightstand and text Ross.
Ollie:I think I have an idea.
He must be on Ollie watch because he texts back right away.
Ross:Uh, an idea for what?
Ollie:It’s kind of crazy, but I think it might be the solution I need.
Ross:Are we talking about stalking Silas? Creating a PowerPoint on how you didn’t fuck up but sort of did in a small way? I really think we need to just let him be for now.
Ollie:Not about Silas, he has asked me to leave his life, and I’m going to respect that.
Ross:Okay, then a solution for what?
Ollie:Leaving school.
* * *
“I’m actually sweatingfor you right now, and you know how much I despise perspiring,” Ross says into the phone.
“I know, I’m sorry.”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Ross asks.
“No, but what else am I going to do? Go back to Oregon? That is the last-case scenario.”
“I know, but The Jock Report? They just ran an article about your article and how the media manipulates stories for views.”
Yeah, that didn’t bode well for me. After I told Ross my plan, we pooled together our money and bought the cheapest airplane ticket we could find to Los Angeles and then put the hotel on my credit card. I’m here for twenty-four hours with a mission to talk to JP Cane without an appointment. And with a big black mark on my name.
“It won’t be easy,” I say. “But I need to at least try. I’m all out of options.”
“Okay, but call me as soon as you’re done.”
“I will.”
“Good luck. Love you.”
“Love you too,” I say before hanging up the phone and sticking it in my purse. Dressed in a deep purple pantsuit and a white blouse, I clutch the strap of my purse and walk through the doors of Cane Enterprises. I know Ryot Bisley is one of the owners of The Jock Report, and JP is an investor, but since he’s the one I made a connection with, he’s the one I’ll try talking to first.
When I reach the front desk, I casually say, “Hello, I have a meeting with JP Cane.”
I don’t.
