Dirty Games

Chapter Four

"So you're a pizza delivery girl now? Working for your family's restaurant?" He takes a bite of the slice and ignores my questions. He munches and stares at me, the tense silence between us unbearable. I sense an edge in his voice.

"I lost my job at that news website in New York." I try to say the words casually. "I'm helping Scott out now at the restaurant, and Mom needs me now, you know."

I don't want to talk about my parents. Not with Diego.

"NewsNow, was that the name of it? I heard something about that, you working up there for that site. So you did make it to the big time. What happened?"

I shoot him a brief, incredulous look. If he heard something about where I was, or even why I was fired, why didn't he try to get in touch with me? Oh right, because he doesn't care. And he probably doesn't follow the inside baseball of New York media, so maybe he doesn't know the whole, pathetic story.

Catalina Richardson, the rising star of NewsNow Media, who was aggressive in her scoops about the mayor's office, the city council, and a subway scandal. Catalina Richardson, who got the coveted job at NewsNow a month before graduating from Columbia.

Catalina Richardson, fired over a politician's dick pic.

"Staff changes." I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant. "Happens all the time in media."

I wasn't going to tell him about how the sex-addicted state representative texted me photos of his junk, and when our site published those pics, the pervy politician pulled strings with our website's parent company and got me fired. If Diego doesn't know about that, I'm not bringing it up. Not after what happened between us.

When it comes to technology, there's only one way to sum up my feelings: it's complicated.

Diego wipes his mouth with a napkin. "Sucks. I'm sorry. So you came home."

I stand even taller, aware of my spine, trying not to look as defeated as I feel. "Had to. No other choice. Plus, I wanted to be here for Mom, after..." my voice trails off but I quickly recover. "I'm not planning on being here long, though. I'm applying for jobs at websites everywhere."

He nods. I say nothing and the awkward silence is back.

"I wanted to go to your father's funeral," he says softly. "I couldn't believe Christopher, of all people, had a heart attack. He ran every day."

I avoid his eyes and his concern. I don't want to talk about my father or his funeral. I'd hoped to see Diego there. And had been disappointed and pissed when I hadn't. I stare at the thick butcher block topping the kitchen counter island and chew on my bottom lip.

"I wanted to go, but I was in Hong Kong when everything happened and couldn't get back in time. I tried, Cata. I really did. I'm sorry."

I don't respond but I force myself to look into his eyes. They're big and transparent. What? Diego was in Hong Kong? I shake my head, trying to clear the confusion from my mind. "What were you doing in—"