Page 132 of His Good Girl

Avery:I’m also annoyed about it.

I laughed quietly.

Benjamin, watching me, said, “I assume from your expression that Ms. Hale has said something inconveniently charming.”

“Go to hell.”

“Already scheduled. Monday at ten.”

I typed back.

Me:Both reactions are acceptable.

Avery:Very generous.

Me:Sleep, young lady.

This time, her reply took almost a full minute.

Avery:Yes, sir.

I set the phone face down before I did something stupid like cancel my trip.

Benjamin stood. “Car is downstairs.”

Dana picked up her mug. “Try not to destroy Lang before breakfast. I’d like to sleep in.”

“I make no promises.”

“Make two,” Benjamin said. “No public murder. No unscheduled phone calls to Avery that last three hours and end with you making worse decisions from another city.”

I looked at him blankly.

“I know you. Distance makes you broody. Broody makes you poetic. Poetic makes you reckless.”

Dana nodded. “He’s not wrong.”

“You’re both disconcertingly comfortable talking to me like this.”

“You keep earning it,” Dana replied.

I took my coat from the back of Benjamin’s chair and shrugged into it. “Keep the photos contained. Find the source. If it leaks, I want to know before the first reporter finishes typing the subject line.”

“Already done,” Benjamin said. “I have alerts on the newsletter, the major papers, three minor papers, six political blogs, two development forums, and one anonymous account that uses too many building emojis to be innocent.”

“Building emojis?”

“Do not ask. It will only darken your evening.”

I nodded, because sometimes that’s all one can do when confronted with Benjamin, then turned toward the elevators.

“Callum,” Dana said quietly.

I stopped and looked back at her. Her face was inscrutable, telling me without words that she was about to say something she did not enjoy feeling. “She’s not just a liability.”

“I know that.”

“Good. Don’t let the crisis make you treat her like one.”