There was no way Emmie could continue her shift. She took Trisha up on her promise to relieve her of her duties for the remainder of the day, and, ignoring Ryker's requests to drive her home, fled the diner as soon as she could. Ryker had been upset about the article too, mainly because it assumed he was the baby's father, but he had also seemed to genuinely care about the fact that this was a disaster for her. Still, her being seen with him out and about in Moon Beach was the exact last thing she needed. There could be paparazzi lurking everywhere, as far as she was concerned. If people were interested enough in this article, maybe they'd want more, and maybe a sleazy tabloid rag like this one would pay photographers for the next big scoop in the Ryker-Emmie saga. Well, she wasn't about to give them one.
She hurried away towards home, digging in her purse for her phone as she walked. She needed to talk to Sam, find out if there was some way to mitigate the damage from this. How that would happen, she didn't know.
Sam picked up on the first ring. "Emmie? Is everything all right?"
"Where are you? Back in Portland?"
"Still in Chicago until Friday, why? You sound agitated."
Phone clasped in one hand, the other wrapped around her trusty pepper spray, just in case, Emmie eyed every alleyway and dark corner with suspicion as she walked as briskly as possible towards her apartment. "I am agitated. Sam, I... I totally messed up."
She confessed everything: going to the TED talk in Seattle, speaking backstage with Ryker, the reporters, the cameras...
"Okay, first off, you should have told me about your travel plans."
"It wasn't like I flew to Mexico on vacation. I drove to Seattle for the day. It's just four hours away. I didn't even stay overnight."
"And yet, obviously, that one day trip had repercussions."
"You were busy. I didn't want to bother you about it."
"It's my job to have you bother me about things you think will bother me." He sighed for what Emmie swore was a good thirty seconds. "Look, I'm trying my best to approach this calmly, but Emmie, I am not happy about this. How many reporters took pictures?"
"Maybe four or five. Ryker tracked them all down, though. Told them not to print any pictures with me in them and he said they'd agreed to it. But then today this local tabloid called Coastal Stars had a picture of us on the front cover. Oh my God, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I was so stupid."
"You're not stupid. Don't say that. You made a mistake and now I have to figure out what I'm going to do about it."
"This is bad, isn't it? Coastal Stars is just an Oregon thing, though, I think. It's not like a major publication with huge circulation...but still..."
"But still... I'm looking at their webpage right now. Oh boy." He mumbled something Emmie couldn't catch, but it ended with a very distinct, "shit!"
"You see me, don't you?"
There was a pause. "Whatever you do, don't read the comments section under this Daddy Train article. Apparently, a large number of women are seriously pissed that Ryker James is no longer eligible. They are not your fans."
"I don't care about fans. And they're not even correct. He's still extremely eligible." She resisted the urge to throw her phone in rage. "Just tell me how bad this is. Dammit. He promised that they promised not to publish this stupid picture!"
"They may not have. Whoever took this image could have sold it to Coastal Stars. And it's not going to end there, Emmie. Chances are, a national publication will want to pick this up, especially with the traction it seems to be getting on the web."
"No!" She was at her apartment' front stoop by now. Again, glancing around, she unlocked her door and slid inside, closing and securing the deadbolt behind her.
"Anyways, to answer your earlier question, yes, this is bad."
"Can you stop this from going farther? Like stop them from selling the story?"
"No I can't and even if I could, it's too late. It's already out there, Emmie. The good thing is, Coastal Stars has no idea who you are. You're mentioned as a mystery woman. They'll definitely try to figure out your identity, but at least they don't know it right at this moment."
"Thank God."
"Yes, and the picture was taken in Seattle, not Moon Beach. If the Chamberlain Brothers send someone to look for you, they may start in that area and work their way to Moon Beach. That will give us some time to get you out. However, that's making some assumptions on their thinking, and I like working with facts, not assumptions. We have to be prepared with an exit strategy."
Exit strategy.
Emmie, midway up the stairs by now, plopped down hard on the landing, feeling as though the building was about to collapse onto her shoulders. "Get me out? Do you mean, you want me to leave Moon Beach?"
"It's the wisest course of action. I'm going to cut my business in Chicago short so I should be there tomorrow. Can you sit tight until then? If not, I can call a local LEO in for you."
The cops. She didn't want that. As soon as they were involved, it seemed to her it would set into motion the inevitability of her having to leave town. "I'll be all right. Don't call them."
She didn't know what else to say. The emotional energy it had taken for her to leave her life in Chicago and start over here in Moon Beach had been nearly more than she could take. The thought of having to do that all over again, and at six months pregnant, made her head swim. Clutching the phone in one hand, she put her other over her mouth and breathed into it. If she could avoid hyperventilating, this moment would pass without her fainting or projectile vomiting all over the staircase.
"Emmie? Are you still there?"
She lowered her hand so she could speak again. "I'm here. Um... isn't Ian's deposition this Thursday? That means I just have to hold on for two more days and maybe then..."
"Maybe nothing Emmie. As important as it is, this doesn't all end with the deposition. You already knew that you couldn't just wait for the trial to end and then go back to your mom in Chicago. This is a vicious bunch we're dealing with. You will always be in their crosshairs, and frankly, they don't mind if their vengeance is served cold."
She swallowed, then slowly raised herself back to standing. "Fine. I acknowledge that. But... you said before that my decisions are my own. It's up to me to decide how big of a risk those decisions present."
"I did say that, yes, but--"
"Well, I don't want to leave. It may be risky but I'm staying. They may never see the pictures and even if they did, they don't know I'm pregnant. Plus, I've kept my hair dyed since I moved here. I look different."
"Not different enough."
"Maybe. Maybe not. I'm still safer here in Moon Beach than I would be back in Chicago. And If I move again, I won't have my friends and..." She had almost said she wouldn't have Ryker... Her heartbeat ticked up a notch again.
"I understand that this is a lot to take in. Let's talk about it in person, okay? Should I meet you at your place tomorrow? I can let you know what time once I figure out what flight I'll be on."
Emmie paused once more. She didn't want to have to listen to Sam's rationale for her leaving Moon Beach. She didn't want to be convinced by his logical and well thought out explanations. At the same time, for her baby's sake she at least had to know the reality of the situation she was now facing. "Of course. Text me tomorrow."
"Hang in there, Emmie. We'll get this figured out."
"Bye, Sam." She closed out the phone conversation and stood in the middle of her living room, a room that had been so lifeless when she'd first moved to Moon Beach four months ago. Sterile. Now, there was art in every corner. A throw blanket Ava had crocheted for her in glimmering shades of ocean greens and blues lay draped over her couch, and a vase filled with daffodils rested on the coffee table, their sunny brilliance a reminder of the hope that came with each spring. This drab little apartment was beautiful and lively now and it was hers. She wasn't ready to give it up.
She gasped as the baby kicked, a reminder that she wasn't riding this emotional roller coaster alone. Tired and weary of the decisions ahead, Ava's blanket called to her. She sat with her feet up on the couch and wrapped it around her stomach. "We can fix this. We can fix this." She leaned back and breathed. She could fix this, perhaps, but for the life of her, she had no idea how.
A/N: And there's your bonus update. I hope you enjoyed it! Three chapters plus an epilogue remain, so that probably shakes out to about seven more updates, give or take. I will hopefully be able to manage one or two more bonus Monday updates over the coming weeks. Fingers crossed!
Any guesses as to how this is all going to end?
Your votes for this update will be used to fund research in personal robot bodyguards to be used for people in Emmie's situation. Because how can releasing large, powerful, armed robots into the populace possibly go wrong?
Today's dedication is for one of the truly awesome women in my life, JillMoore. Thank you for reading, my friend!