The Detective and Her Bachelor

Chapter 39

"So I've been told," I replied, ignoring her laughter, my stare causing it to fizzle out and die. I leaned back in the chair, my face falling into shadow. "Have a seat," I said. "We have a lot to talk about."

She moved towards the door. "We have a blackout Delle, now is really not the best time—"

I kicked a chair towards her. It slid across the floor with an angry screech, hitting the door and blocking her exit. "I. INSIST."

She turned back to me, hands on hips. "Delle, I understand that—"

"They'll find the electrical problem I caused in a few minutes. Trust me, you won't miss much. SIT."

She dropped into the chair without another word, compelled by my tone.

I took a moment to let the silence grow, the flashlight on my phone carving light across the room, making everything look sharp, harsh and unforgiving. It portrayed my inner chaos quite well.

"You really know how to put on a good show, Nat."

She swallowed. I had watched her corral the chaos of the show for weeks, ordering others around like it was second nature. And this was the first time that she looked truly out of her element, almost afraid as she sat before me, under my stare.

I leaned back in the plush chair, studying Nat's face, now fully in lie detecting mode. "Let's start with the EpiPen. Why take it? And why pin it on Ace?"

Nat pushed several long strands of her black hair out of her face, looking thoughtful. "I thought it would make for a fun episode twist."

I raised a brow. "You could have gotten me sent to the hospital."

She smiled, amused. Like we were playing a game. "I know for a fact that your allergy is minor. It was on your medical paperwork. But it would have been quite a beautiful moment on screen." She waved her hand through the air, picturing the scene she had tried to create. "Ace racing you to the hospital, sitting protectively at your bedside. And all the while you wonder if he has a dark side, because the very man who saved you, kept your medicine from you."

"That's delusional..." I replied. "That's—"

"Reality TV," she said, as if that explained everything.

I forced myself to breathe. Forced the angry red that was encroaching on my vision back to the shadows. Her level of dedication was terrifying.

"There is a reason I am the best at what I do," she replied, reading the disgust on my face. "Just because you aren't the key demographic doesn't mean others won't line up to consume it."

I leaned forward, fingers digging into my knees, trying to keep myself from jumping out of the chair and breaking everything in the room. 

Breathe, Delle. Breathe.

I let out a slow, unsteady breathe. "You knew about my father. How?"

"You handled him well," she replied, dodging my question.

"I hardly calling what I did, we'll handled," I replied between clenched teeth. "HOW. DID. YOU. KNOW?"

She leaned back in her chair, looking impressed. "I've never seen anything like it. A family reunion for the ages. The ratings will be fantastic."

The dragon inside roared, making my words sharp, dripping with poison. "Don't you dare air it. My sisters don't need that." My fingers moved, gripped the arms of my chair tightly, and I could feel the wood creek in protest at my angry grip.

The amusement faded from Nat's face, now all business. "You signed the agreement. I can showcase anything I want..." She brushed an invisible piece of lint off of her black shirt, absently. "A bastard child from an empire family... a stolen kiss on a rooftop between two undercover detectives... a story about a son being blamed for killing their own father... a family reunion where the daughter brutally beats her estranged father."