Snapshot (Lessons in Love Book 2)

On Saturday morning, I’m still in bed, eyes groggy, with a sex hangover.

Dex and I have been doing a lot of exploring. He’s had me in every position. Over the past week, it was the same pattern. He’d come home from the office hours after me, and the moment he was through the door, it was shirt unbuttoned, pants down, his low grumbly growl telling me what a good girl his wife is. We’d fill up on junky snacks for dinner, getting just enough sleep to survive our days at the office. Rinse and repeat. All week. In my opinion, it was our second honeymoon.

I take him wherever he wants it. He’s claimed every part of my body time and time again, and I can’t help but wonder if this is exactly what our bodies were made for. We’re never hiding under the covers, ashamed of our passion. One round is never enough. I’m never left unsatisfied, just stripped and spent, needing recovery. This is exactly what I fantasized about for years. With Dex, sex is an unmarked map. There’s still so much to explore and discover.

It’s where Alan and I fell short. I wanted the peaceful, safe happily ever after. But I also wanted the adventure of getting there, too.

My phone rings from the nightstand, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Hello,” answers the frog in my throat. I quickly cough away from the phone, clearing my voice. “Good morning,” I say, this time sounding a little more presentable.

“Mrs. Hessler, we’re sorry to bother you so early, but there’s a woman in the lobby insisting on seeing you. She says she’s been calling, texting, and emailing, but you haven’t answered your phone.”

Pulling the phone from my face, I check my recent notifications. Dex messaged me letting me know he was in the air safely. Avery sent me a message late last night telling me she misses me and she’s so proud of me, and even though Finn claims he’s relieved I’m no longer mooching, he has kept my pink throw pillows in the guest bedroom. My dad texted me a picture of a for sale sign on my childhood home. His message was: Just saying, baby girl. Would love to have you and Dex a little closer.

But there’s nothing from a strange woman. Is this a Dex Hessler fan girl, wanting to murder me, wear my skin as a costume and my hair as a wig, hoping for her shot at Miami’s formerly most eligible bachelor?

“What’s her name?”

“Katherine…Tearney. Does that ring a bell?” the security guard asks.

I narrow my eyes to the point my vision goes blurry, as if there’s anyone here to see my dirty look. “I’m familiar. Try not to let the door hit her on her way out.” Of course, I haven’t received any messages from Kat. Once a snake bites you, you block them from everything.

“So, you wouldn’t like to see her? She’s saying it’s urgent.”

“No, I would not.”

“Okay, ma’am, no problem. Sorry for disturbing you.”

But I can hear Kat’s frantic shouting in the background. “Lennox, please! It’s about Dex! It’s serious, and I’m just trying to warn you guys.”

“Have a good morning, Mrs. Hessler. We’ll escort her out,” the security guard says before hanging up.

Exhaling in annoyance, I place my phone face down on the nightstand. I try to tuck back under the covers, but my mind starts to race.

Dammit… Kat said it was about Dex. That’s enough to get my attention. Ruin my life, have at it…but my husband’s? Fuck.

I grab my phone and find my blocked contacts. Reluctantly, I remove Kat from the list. Instantly, her blocked messages come flooding in.

Kat

I got an assignment, and we need to talk.

I know you’re upset. Rightly so, but this one is over my head.

Believe it or not, I’m trying to protect you. I think BuzzLit is crossing a line.

Please call me back, Lennox. I promise I’m trying to help.

Her frantic messages are enough to pique my curiosity. She has some gall, contacting me after the awful things she wrote about me. But it’s the part where she mentioned that she’s trying to protect me that has me concerned. What line has been crossed that even has a sniveling weasel like Kat all worked up?

Me

What is going on?

Kat

Can we please just talk…face to face? I’m still right outside your building.

Me

You’re most definitely not welcome in my home…but there’s a coffee shop called Brewley’s about two blocks south. I’ll meet you there in an hour.

Kat

Okay, I know Brewley’s. See you in an hour.

Me

Kat, I’m warning you, if you mess with my family again, I won’t save you. I’ll let my husband buy your company this time and burn your career to the ground. Clear?

Kat

Yes, I understand. I promise, no funny business.

She must think I’m an idiot to believe that. This time, I’m taking precautions with a witness to the conversation so I can call Kat out on any bullshit with the truth. I phone in reinforcements. The phone barely rings twice before Spencer answers with a sleepy, “Hello?”

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Of course, I did. It’s seven o’clock on a Saturday morning.

“No, no,” she assures me. “Not at all. I’ve been up.”

“Why are you lying?” I ask with a chuckle.Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

“It’s a knee-jerk response,” Spencer admits, succumbing to a big, vocal yawn. “Have you ever seen The Devil Wears Prada? Executive assistants aren’t allowed to sleep.”

“Are you suggesting I’m as scary as Meryl Streep in that movie?”

“No, I’m suggesting I’m newly loving my job and my boss who wildly overpays me. So, if you need something at the butt crack of dawn on a Saturday, here I am, reporting for duty.”

“Fair enough. I’m going to send a car to pick you up shortly. I need you to meet me at Brewley’s in about forty-five minutes for a meeting.”

“Roger that. Dress pants or yoga pants?” Judging by the ruckus I hear in the background, she’s already shuffling through her apartment, turning her shower on.

“Whatever you prefer. It should be brief.”

“Who are we meeting?” Spencer asks.

Kat’s face pops into the forefront of my mind, and I roll my eyes. “A snake.”

When we walk in, it’s easy to spot Kat and her red hair in the corner of Brewley’s at a small table. She’s already ordered two coffees. Her eyes pop in surprise when she sees me approach with Spencer, dressed in a neat business romper. I opted for a sleek, navy dress that went past my knees. My most professional, least revealing dress, just in case Kat would like to corner me and accuse me of being a Las Vegas hussy again.

“I didn’t realize you were bringing company,” Kat says, rising when she sees us approach.

I point to the lattes on the table. “Well, we’ll wait. I’m sure the kitchen has time to poison one more.”

She grumbles. “Okay, I suppose I deserve that. Look, Lennox. I’m sorry. It was all in good fun. Just entertainment. No one takes that column seriously. The world has a very short attention span⁠—”

“I read the article. There was nothing entertaining about it,” Spencer seethes.

Kat lifts an eyebrow at Spencer. “You brought a guard dog?”

Spencer pulls out her phone from her clutch. “Nope. A videographer. Mess with my boss again, and I will blast your ass all over snaketok, cheatertok, cringeytok, and lemontok.”

“You’re making these up,” Kat replies. “Those can’t be real TikTok hashtags.”

“Try me,” Spencer snaps back.

I glance at Spencer with a small, bemused smile. “What is lemontok?”

“It’s kind of confusing. You can find shitty people, crappy cars, lemon bread recipes, and all-natural lemon cleaning supplies. Actually, that whole hashtag is kind of a mess,” she mumbles.

“Gotta love twenty-one-year-olds and TikTok, right?” I ask Kat. “Talk and talk fast.”

“Okay, okay,” Kat says, pulling another seat around the small coffee table. “First of all, the article about you wasn’t my idea.”

“Not your idea, but you certainly executed it with finesse.” I sit down and cross my legs, arms folded tightly over my chest. Maybe I look cold and standoffish. In actuality, I think I’m trying to protect my heart.

“I was blackmailed. I often am. When Denise called⁠—”

“She had no idea you were doing the article on BuzzLit,” I say, fervently defending Denny.

Kat scoffs. “Are you kidding? Lennox, are you that naïve? She set you up. The article was far from my best writing. I put in what I was told to.”

I ignore the pounding in my chest. The hairs on my neck are rising at the idea of Denny’s betrayal. But I force myself to ignore the baseless accusation. I make a move to get up. “I’m not interested in the blame game.”

“Wait, please,” she insists. “I have proof.” Kat glances nervously at Spencer, seated right beside me, wearing the same unimpressed expression. “Can she please stop recording? Just for a bit?”

I exhale. “Spencer, let’s give her a moment.”

Obediently, Spencer puts her phone down and mutters, “Phone’s off. My fist is still working, though.”

I stifle my chuckle. “What proof?”

Kat sighs and pulls out her own phone. She clicks through a few apps, enters two different passwords, and then proceeds to show me an image of her. She cups her hand around her forehead, her head hung in shame. “That was from three years ago.”

After scanning the somewhat pornographic image, I blink at her. “Well, Kat. That was more of your bare ass than I ever wanted to see. Why are you showing me a naked picture of you from behind?”

She shushes me and lowers her tone. “The man I’m on top of…recognize him?”

“No.”

“You must not follow politics.”

“Accurate. Hey, put that in your next article. A jab at me that’d be justified. I have absolutely no clue what’s going on in the political world.”

“His name is Scott Ramsie. He’s running for the senate…” She licks her lips as a flicker of shame crosses her face. “He’s married.”

I widen my eyes. “And was three years ago when you slept with him?”

She nods solemnly. “In my defense, he said he was leaving her. I…ate up every line. I loved him. Still do.”

“Which is why you’re protecting him?” I ask.

She nods again. “I don’t know how the hell Denise got ahold of those pictures. Her ex-husband is friends with Scott. But basically, she owns my ass. I write what she wants when she wants. Once upon a time, I was writing serious articles. You know I spent two months in Qatar, doing field research for serious journalism. Now, I’m a gossip columnist joke, thanks to Denise.”

“And a homewrecker,” Spencer adds, then dramatically coughs into her fist. “Sorry. Subtlety is not my strong suit.”

“His wife cheated first,” Kat mumbles. “He’s been unhappy for a long time.”

“Kat, I’m really not interested in your sob story. Or any more nudes of you, for that matter. What did you want to talk about? And what are you trying to insinuate about Denny?” I ask in a hurry.

“She’s not a good person, Lennox.”

“And you are? There are only two people in Miami I trust. My husband and the young woman next to me who looks like she wants to clock you. I’m tired of all the manipulative games. I don’t understand why everyone I encounter seems to have a vendetta against me.”

She breathes out heavily. “Which is why I wanted to warn you about the article that’s being published next week. I did my best to convince my boss it wasn’t a good story idea, but she’s already hooked.”

“What article?” Spencer asks.

Kat is tapping on her phone again, pulling up an email. She swivels her phone around, and I see the headline:

A LEGACY IN SHAMBLES.

Dottie Hessler, the devil in disguise. How she stole a family just for her grandson to run the Hessler name straight into the ground.

My stomach sinks as bile bubbles up in my throat. I’m breathless for a while as the sickening realization washes over me. “Kat…you can’t publish this. It’ll crush him. Dex loved his grandma more than anyone in the world. If he finds out his entire life has been a lie…”

“I have no choice,” Kat replies. “If I don’t release the article, Denise is going to put my pictures all over the internet. I have to protect myself, Lennox. I’m sorry. I don’t even know where Denise got the tip-off to concoct a story like this.”

Me. Me and my stupid, big mouth. I clasp my hand over my heart, feeling the heavy thudding. “Please don’t do this,” I plead to Kat, clasping my hands together.

“It’s already done,” she says. “I’m just trying to warn you.”

“You know something?” Spencer asks, her eyes narrowed at Kat. “You are exactly what’s wrong with the world. You run your mouth, never thinking of the ripple effect of your bullshit. Families are breaking apart, kids are hurting themselves, people have become angry and reclusive all because of this garbage. You use humiliation as entertainment and never stop to think how badly you’re hurting people. You’re a poisonous sludge. I hope your nudes flood the internet one day. A little taste of your own medicine. Then let’s see if you can let it slide right off your back like it’s no big deal.”

Spencer’s eyes are watering. Her rant is clearly personally motivated. There’s a story there, but right now, I don’t have time to press. I think I just ruined my husband’s life. I have no idea what the implications are if Dex isn’t technically a Hessler. Can they take everything away from him?

“Spencer, let’s go,” I say. “I need to call Dex. He needs to hear all of this from me.” We both stand, scooting out our chairs with loud screeches against the wooden floor. Kat’s face is buried in her hands, and for the briefest moment, I feel bad for her.

I let Spencer get a few paces in front of me, then I double back to address Kat once more. “You know, secrets tend to ruin lives. I’m about to come clean. So should you. Then maybe you can go back to being a journalist who matters.” I shrug. “Something to think about. And anyway, the world has a short attention span, right?”

Her eyes glued to the table, she nods. “I’ll think about it.”