Chapter 132

Theo and I ended up playing card games with each other until Charles got home from work. It helped my heart and reaffirmed my belief in the goddess that Theo was healing quite quickly. Just like getting my cycle started, it seemed like the answers to my prayers were flowing in.

Although, when I thought about it like that, I wished maybe I had prayed a little bigger. Maybe I could have prayed for the cornerstone of this whole corruption mess to just fall out into the open so that justice could be served. But I would take a reprieve from necessary conversations with Charles and Theo’s return to good health.

Just after dinner, Charles predictably caught me up in his arms, making the request that we head for the bedroom.

“I can’t,” I said.

“Why not?” He looked disappointed.

“It’s my time of the month.”

“Oh.” Charles looked a little squeamish at my honesty.

But admitting my circumstances was the fastest way to shut him down, and I didn’t have the energy to dance around sensitive subjects right now. I had enough of those that needed talking about.

So rather than drawing me into the bedroom, he took my hand and led me to the couch and sat down, patting next to him. I took the spot.

“The interviews with the other alphas will start next week. In the meantime, you finished your last story with Wendy today, didn’t you?”

“I did,” I replied.

“What are you going to do next? What with everything that you’ve found out about the water and such.” I noticed he stayed deliberately vague. “You obviously can’t bring that up. So what will you pitch?”

I sighed and slumped back into the sofa. “Nothing for now. Because I honestly don’t know what to do next.”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I thought that might be the case. So, I’ve been mulling it over. I have an idea.”

“I’m all ears,” I said, thankful for his help.

“So, I was thinking that for the time being, you should act like you’ve bought into the whole thing.”

“Why? Wait… How do you mean?” I asked.

“You catch more flies with sugar,” he replied. “So do some light, fluffy, feel-good pieces that make everyone think that you are conforming, that you’re fully playing along. And then save the more investigative pieces for the dark web.” He whispered those last two words as his gaze hit the door between our apartment and our guards’ and then focused back on my face.

“Oh. I see what you mean.”

“But don’t go too light, he advised. “You don’t want them suspicious that you gave up entirely. I doubt they would believe you quit digging. Just look like you’re accepting the idea that everything around us is nothing but roses.”

“I think I can do that. I leaned over and pecked a kiss on the tip of his nose. “You’re so smart. What would I do without your help?”

He smiled and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. “The same thing I’d do without your help. Neither one of us would be complete.”

I snuggled my cheek into his palm. “I fully agree,” I said. “How did we get so lucky?”

“I guess the goddess just loves us.”

I glanced at him, a little unsettled by that remark out of nowhere. It seemed so in line with everything else that it happened that afternoon.

“So what shall we do until bedtime? Usual activities are a no-go.”

“Well, there’s that movie we’ve been talking about watching,” I suggested. “We can snuggle up and decompress for once.”

He sighed and leaned back into the back of the sofa. “You know, decompressing actually sounds like a really good idea. But rather than watching a movie, let’s toss around some ideas for your next story. You’re going to have to pitch it to your editor soon, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“So we should send you back to work with at least some idea where you’re headed.”

He lay down on the sofa and pulled me to lie down along with him. I curled up, resting my head on his shoulder, and he kept taking deep, long breaths of me, soaking in my scent.

I did the same, pressing my nose to his chest and drinking in the smell of him, as well. Maybe we didn’t need a movie to decompress. Just being near each other and drawing comfort from each other’s scents was enough.

He played with me, gently running his fingers through my hair, humming quietly as he thought. After a moment, he spoke again.

“What about a follow-up piece on the municipal park?”

“That subject has kind of been done,” I said.

“No, I wasn’t thinking that you should do it on the park itself. I was thinking that you could do it on, say, the football clubs that are starting up or on the extracurricular activities that some of the youth groups are running. There’s got to be something with one kids association or another going on there, right?

“Everybody loves kids. And I’m sure you could find some controversy with parents who aren’t happy with the variety of sports offered, or people angry at coaches or exclusions, or something. Nobody gets pissed off faster than parents who feel like their kids have been slighted.”

“Yeah. That might work. Or, since I’m new to the neighborhood, maybe they would let me do something that isn’t specifically news reporting if I call it farming or a discovery article. I was thinking of maybe doing an outline of the top 3 attractions in each of the neighborhoods.”

He rolled his eyes and huffed a sigh in my hair. “That is so overdone. Every travel blogger out there has a compiled list.”

“I know. I wasn’t thinking of covering parks and stuff. I was thinking of things that locals might be familiar with that travelers might miss.” I couldn’t help a giggle that escaped.

He cocked his head, and I looked up, meeting his gaze.

“What on earth you thinking about?” he asked.

“Well, it’s like back by the orphanage where I grew up. There were parks and theaters and stuff that anybody could go to. But all of the locals knew that if you wanted to see something fun and unique on Thursday nights, they had an open-to-the-public improv night at one of the all-ages clubs, and it was hilarious.

“I was thinking that there has to be something like that here in Packhaven, something that the locals know that even a travel blogger wandering the streets and trying out cafes or whatnot wouldn’t necessarily come across.”

“Well,” he gave me a shrug, “maybe you should just pitch both. At least you’ll have two ideas instead of one, just in case they say no to one. And if not, then your next two stories are in the bag. And they get their feel-good pieces.”

“For the most part,” I stipulated.

“Unless, of course, you have angry parents screaming at you about why their child should be the most important one on the team or why they should make a team for whatever their child is interested in.” Charles shuddered. “Parents are scary.”

“You say that like you know first hand.”

He grinned at me. “We had very different upbringings, remember? I was involved in a lot of sports. I remember the parents of the other kids. Thank goodness my mom was never like that.”

“Was your dad?”

His smile downturned a little. “My dad was an alpha. He was frequently busy with work. He didn’t make it to as many of my games as my mom did.”

This opened a nice discussion about our childhoods. Charles was so good at telling the stories that I could almost see Gwen doing and saying the things that he talked about. Which made me feel like all the stories he told me about his father must have been the best look at the real man that anybody would ever get now that he had passed.

I felt like my stories about my childhood were nowhere near as interesting, but Charles kept plying me with questions until we both fell asleep.