He doesn’t turn around which tells me he’s thinking about my statement. Leo shakes his head and says, “I need to make a call. Forget it, Harper.” Then he takes a step to his door.

I panic. “Don’t walk away. We are talking—”

He ignores me and places his hand on his doorknob.

“Do not open that door.”

He turns the knob without even slowing.

The fact that he’s not listening to me burns me like a hot skillet. I should matter to him. My legs propel me forward and I jump him from behind. I jump like I’m shooting hoops—which I’ve never done but imagined—and straddle his back, hooking my arms around his neck and feet around his waist.

Leo wobbles from the unexpected impact and then we are both going down. In slow motion, my brain registers the wood floor coming up to meet us. I don’t have the reflexes nor time to react and let go.

Leo takes the brunt of the fall, going down with both hands slapping against the floor as he crouches with me on his back like a spider monkey. He loses his balance and goes to both knees with his hands on the floor.

“Get off! Trying to fucking break my legs.”

I fall off his back and lower myself to the floor. He sits and then rolls back to look at the ceiling.

We lie side by side.

“What did you think you were doing?” he mutters in a dazed voice.

“Stopping you from walking away. Why couldn’t you listen to me for a second? Who were you going to call?”

“I told you. The police. Is that why you stopped me? If you have the damned laptop, tell me. I won’t file a report. Just give it back.”

I smack him flat on the chest. “Oh. My. Gosh. I did not steal your laptop. I knew you were accusing me.”

“No. I’m not. You said you don’t have it. Do you think I’d really turn you in to the police?

I shrug. “Maybe. How would I know? You aren’t speaking to me.”

“I thought you were still mad that I hit that guy.”

“I am mad. But not crazy enough to steal your laptop to get back at you.”

He snickers loud enough for me to hear. “Whatever you say.”

“Did someone break-in?”

He turns his head to look at me. “Nope. And it’s the only thing gone. I can buy another computer, but there’s private stuff on there.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you have sex tapes.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and my heart clunks to a stop. I don’t want to imagine he’s filmed himself with me, but even that vision is better than him filming another girl.

“Of course not,” he says.

I sigh, relief rolling over my entire body.

I sit up on one elbow. Leo’s silky hair falls over his eyes and I’d pay a hundred bucks I don’t possess to run my fingers through it. I bite the inside of my mouth to distract me from the instinct to reach forward.

“I do the Mr. Expose blog with the understanding that some details will never be revealed. Plus, I don’t want to be associated with it forever. Do you think I’ll be taken seriously as a writer if people only think of me as Mr. Expose? It was only supposed to be something to make money until I’m able to sell my manuscripts.”

“Oh. I’ve always taken you seriously.” I glance over at him.

“You haven’t even read my writing.” He turns his head and grins at me.

“Because you won’t let me.” I roll my eyes. “Speaking of the blog…I need the scan of my postcard.”

“Why? Tell me what your obsession is with it.”

“I object to you calling it an obsession.”

He sighs, a low rumble that makes me smile, despite what’s happened in the past minutes. “Please tell me about the postcard.”

My belly whirls, making my skin tingle from the adrenaline. I brace myself for the leap of faith that he’ll protect my secrets.

“If you printed the postcard, Wesley’s daughter would find out the truth—that her father was a polygamist. I’ve suffered because of his lies, but I don’t want to cause her more unhappiness. It’s not right. If you printed the postcard, it would be news.”

“I wouldn’t have printed it. You only had to ask.” He gets to his feet and gives me a hand up. The contact of his warm hand holding mine—if only for one instant—sends tingles along my body.

“I did ask. Remember? And then I decided to take it if you wouldn’t hand it over to me. That was wrong, and I’m sorry.” I take two steps to my door and put my key in the lock. “You don’t know how someone got in to your apartment?” I turn to look at his face.

“Maybe I left it unlocked. I don’t know.”

I bite my lip and the bullet of shame. “It could’ve been locked. You still have the key under your mat?”

He throws me a sharp look. “I don’t know. I used to hide one there a long time ago.”

“Check it. That’s how I got in when I looked for my postcard one day. Let me know if I can help look for your laptop.”

With this confession, I let myself in and don’t look back. New, honest beginnings.

21

Cover All the Bases

Leo

When I was ten, Grandma Lulu spanked me for telling the guys that Josie didn’t need a training bra ‘because she didn’t have any titties.’ I’d made the vile comment to embarrass her because she stuck to me everywhere I went. It was a miracle she didn’t insist on using the men’s restroom.

Back then, I was angry over that spanking for a week and for many reasons. Reason one—it was no more than I would say to Josie’s face. When I was a kid, I prayed for a brother. Repeatedly. One who didn’t secretly blackmail me into playing dolls. Reason two—I was too old to be spanked. It was humiliating, which I guess was the point. Reason three—Grandma Lulu let Josie tell the boys I’d been disciplined for it and that each one would get the same if they ever disrespected any female again.

From the experience, I learned that I would be punished for taunting my sister and that Grandma Lulu and Josie stick together. Always.

So. Here I sit at the senior citizen facility facing a most uncomfortable situation. The semi-circle facing me feels like a firing squad. I’m positive Grandma Lulu or Josie intended it this way. They probably planned it together, giggling as they pictured my discomfort.

Grandma Lulu failed to mention anyone else would be attending breakfast. To my left is Josie, then Grandma Lulu, who sits in rapt attention to the person I’d hoped to never see again—Antonio. Harper sits quietly at his left and avoids my gaze.

“Well,” I say. “Aren’t I lucky to have lunch with all of you?” My stiff lips attempt a smile. “Antonio. That’s an ugly black eye you have.”

Antonio winks at me. “Perhaps it makes me look debonair.” He turns and smiles at Grandma Lulu next to him.

“Nah. It doesn’t.” My hands ball into tight fists under the table. Is it wrong to deck a guy who is flirting with a woman four times his age?

Josie makes an Oscar the Grouch face at me. “I think it’s hot.”

Harper isn’t saying a word. If she agrees, I may choke on the biscuit I’ve stuffed into my mouth so I’ll stop speaking.

“Harper,” Grandma Lulu says. “What are you and Antonio doing today?”

I flinch so hard I’ll have whiplash. I’d thought maybe they were together only for the breakfast.

They are actually dating. Harper is going to fall in love with this suave douchebag and I’ve let it happen. I practically forced her to get a life that doesn’t involve me. My chest constricts and it’s difficult to get a reasonable amount of air into my lungs.

Harper looks from Grandma Lulu to Antonio. She won’t even make eye contact with me.

Perspiration pops up underneath the starched collar of my dress shirt. I loosen the knot of my tie. “Excuse me.” I rise and my napkin falls from my lap onto the floor.