“It doesn’t say, Marek. But if I had to guess, I’d say it’s about your marriage, your life together, and your divorce.”
Fuck me.
I thought we settled all of this amicably when we finalized our divorce. She got everything. She walked away with nearly every cent I’d made up to that point. Because of her, I lived in a goddamn trailer for nearly two years until I bought my new house on Lake Washington.
She took me to the cleaners in our divorce because of a mistake I made that I can never undo and can never apologize enough for making.
When my priorities were elsewhere, and I wasn’t there when she needed me most.
Some things can never be undone.
And I’ll never forgive myself for it. Maybe this book is her way of telling me she can’t either.
I look down at the card in my hand, tilting my head to the side curiously.
Is that why Harper is so desperate for an exclusive with me? Did she already know about Jasmine’s deal and wants to get the first scoop from me?
Oh, hell no. I’m not walking into that trap again. I’m done being Mr. Nice Guy.
“Just give them the standard ‘no comment’ when asked. And this Harper Conrad? I’m going to call her directly. She was sniffing around for an exclusive and I think I now know why. Thanks for the heads up, Glen. Talk later.”
* * *
It’s nowafter 5:00 p.m. and I get up to pour myself a drink, taking a sip as I plan out my next steps.
First, contact Harper. I’ll invite her to our press conference on Friday. See what kind of questions she throws out there. If I even get a whiff of a personal angle, I’ll shut her down and will know exactly the type of journalist she is.
Second on the list is Jasmine. I may need to get my attorney to intervene if the conversation doesn’t go well.
There is no way in hell I’m going to allow her to share my life’s story with the world. It’s my life and no one else’s business but my own.