Chapter 32

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"Can we come in?"

Sam looked back at Ali, who was curled up on the couch. "It's not really a good time Leif."

The police had left barely an hour ago, Charlie following right behind. If it was up to Sam, they'd have gone straight to bed, but Ali didn't seem to want to move. Or let go of him. They sat holding each other, talking in low voices. She'd begun to tell him about her day when they heard the knock at the door.

Leif's pinched face and hunched shoulders shocked Sam, a look he'd never seen on his friend before. Behind the tall red-head stood a woman who looked familiar. Did he know her?

"I'm sorry, Sam. I wouldn't interrupt you guys so late if it wasn't important."

"Sam," Ali was putting on her shoes. Spikey stilettos with metal heels she'd pulled out of her closet this morning. She'd purchased them at his insistence a few days before they got the call about her father's stroke and hadn't had a chance to wear them. Before the knock on the door, Sam had been trying to lighten the mood, joking with her, insisting she keep them on when they go to bed. "It's okay. Let him in."

He didn't want to. The events of the day had exhausted him. Seeing Vicky, having her here in his apartment, his safe space shared with Ali cut open wounds that had only begun to heal. Then seeing the love of his life's face when she came home to an apartment full of cops frayed his nerves. She was putting on a brave front, but Sam knew her better than anyone, knew it upset her. He wanted nothing more than to shut out the rest of the world and hold his fiancée until she smiled again. Instead, he swung the door open and gestured for Leif and his companion to come in.

"What's she doing here?" The venom in Ali's voice confused Sam. A long time since he'd heard that tone. It reminded him of when he first met Ali and she accused him of stealing her car. She'd given him quite the tongue lashing that day.

"Ali, you have every right to kick me out," the woman pleaded with her palms held up before her. "But I've come to help. Please, here me out."

Sam moved to stand beside his fiancée, a need to protect her washing over him. Arms crossed, Ali didn't relent, but she also didn't throw the other woman out. Sam put his hand on the small of her back, a light touch to let her know he was on her side.

"Someone want to fill me in?" Sam asked.

Stepping in between the two women, Leif took up the gauntlet. "Sam, this is my friend Penny." As he shook her hand, Sam still couldn't place the woman. But he knew her face. The hazel eyes bright and inquisitive. He knew her from somewhere.

"She's a reporter," Ali snarled. "The one who accosted me outside the coffee shop. With... Noah... when Jack... well, you know."

At the mention of Noah, Sam bristled. Noah, the friend Ali, spent time with when she'd moved out last winter. The friend who played hero for the camera when Jack toyed with her. Oh, how he hated him.

"Penelope Mathison. And yes, I work for TMV."

Now he recognized her, recalling videos he'd seen of her confronting people on the streets of New York, shoving her microphone in their faces, demanding answers to her intimidating questions. Normally her shoulder length mane was straight and sleek, professional, parted on the side. Today her honey brown hair fell in gentle waves, giving her a softer look.

Calling herself a reporter was a nice way of describing her job. More like a gossip raker. Sam always wondered how people like her could live with themselves, thriving off of the misery of others.

He looked to his friend. Leif wouldn't bring a reporter into his home without a good reason. With soft strokes on Ali's back, Sam silently asked her if it was okay for them to stay. She dropped her hands to her side, a sign she wasn't going to bite.

"Why don't you take a seat," offered Sam. "Can I get you a drink. Scotch Leif? I've got a bottle of the family brew?"

His friend shook his head, eyes down. "We might need one later, but I'm fine for now. Penny?"

The woman in question threw a trepidatious look at Leif, then at Sam, avoiding Ali's glare. "Can I have a glass of water?"

"I'll get it," piped up Ali.

While Ali headed for the kitchen, Sam ushered his guests into the living room. Leif waited for Penelope to pick a spot, then settled in beside her. Sam watched as the other man lifted his hand as if to place it on his friend's arm, hesitate, and then drop it on his lap. These two were more than friends. At least on Leif's part. Penelope missed the action, her hands pulling on the hem of her pencil skirt.

Sam took a seat on the couch opposite the couple and asked what brought them here. Leif again took the lead in starting the conversation.

"Penny and I have been friends since high school. She's a wonderful writer and had dreams of becoming a journalist." His gaze softened as he looked at the woman beside him. Yup, definitely something going on between them, thought Sam. "But as you know, journalism is a dying industry. So she's had to make some... alternate plans."

Penelope laughed. It was harsh and short. "Ever the politician, Leif. Stop trying to polish the turd. I'm a shock jockey. I create click-bate to satisfy advertisers trying to sell male enhancement pills and long-lasting lipstick." She glanced at Leif and offered a pale smile. "But thank you for trying."

"What's this have to do with Sam?" interjected Ali, holding a glass in front of Penelope.

The seated woman accepted the water and faced Ali. "Nothing. I'm here for you."

Sam sat up straight. Ali? What would a rumour outfit like TMV want with his fiancé? As she sat down beside him, Ali placed a hand on his knee, her turn to reassure him. Entwining his fingers in hers, Sam braced for the hammer to fall.

"Ok, what about me?"

Penelope took a greedy drink of the water as the room watched. Her hand shook slightly as she settled the glass on the table between them. Then, after another tug on her skirt, she started her story.

"First, before you throw me out... and I won't blame you when you do... I want to say how sorry I am."

Sam didn't like where this was heading.

"I have no excuse. I knew what I was doing. I... tried to justify it. You're in the public eye, fair game and all that." Penelope's wide eyes flickered up at Ali and then back down at her skirt. "I needed the money. And if I didn't do it, someone else would."

Ali interrupted. "Yes, your remorseful, blah, blah. Get on with it."

"Ali, please." Leif came to his friend's defence again. This time his hand made contact with Penelope, rubbing her upper arm with the gentleness of a man trying to calm a scared kitten. "Give Penny a chance. She's trying to explain."

Ali turned her gaze on Leif. "For you, Leif."

Leif nodded and gave Penelope's arm a squeeze. She patted his hand, took a deep breath and continued.

"I'm here because Jack Blackhorne paid me to sabotage you."

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