“I think it’s best if I just come clean and accept responsibility for my actions,” Sam declared, glancing back and forth at all the faces focused on her. “You don’t know how truly sorry I am that there isn’t anything I can do to slow this runaway train, but I would if I could.”
“You know,” Ashleigh interrupted, “I’ve always believed in telling the truth, but what if we head this off by reporting that those are fakes. You know, altered to suit the needs of those two?”
Everyone at the table stopped and turned toward Ashleigh. Tag fought to keep from laughing when Alex’s mouth dropped open as he stared at his future wife.
“Ashleigh Marie!” Sierra scolded with a laugh. “You’ve been spending way too much time with us.”
That had the table erupting in laughter.
Well, everyone except for McKenna.
“You know, that might just work,” she stated, glancing around the table. “I’m not saying we have to out and out lie about it, but what if we spin a story that gets people questioning them even more than they already are.”
“Like what?” Luke asked.
“I don’t know.” McKenna shook her head briefly. “I haven’t thought it completely through yet. But, I think it’s time we take some of the attention off of them, and put it back where it belongs.”
“Didn’t you already try that with the interviews?” Tag asked.
It was a good idea, provided they could stay within the realms of the truth as much as possible because the last thing they needed was to make this fucked up situation any worse.
He just feared they were already heading down that path.
Chapter Thirty
“What do you mean it won’t work?” McKenna asked as she and Tag walked into his private room. Lunch had lasted longer than they expected, but neither of them had anything else pressing to do. Well, except try to divert a disaster waiting to happen.
“That’s exactly what I mean, McKenna,” Tag retorted angrily.
She wasn’t quite sure when he stopped supporting the cause, but as soon as they got into his car, he had torn into her about spearheading this little clusterfuck. His words, not hers.
“Well, I think it will work,” she answered, making sure he heard the irritation she was currently strangled by.
Throughout all of the conversations at lunch, he hadn’t said much and when he did, he didn’t contribute either way. Now she knew why.
“Of course you do.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She immediately turned to face him, not even stopping to set her purse down.
“You’ve got stars in your eyes, darlin’. You think everything is going to work out when you should be stepping back and asking yourself why you even care. This doesn’t affect you, but for some reason you’re sticking your pretty little neck out when it’d be in your best interest just to keep your mouth shut.”
McKenna flinched like he had just slapped her. And she felt as though he had. She was too dumbfounded to come up with a retort. What was he trying to say? She didn’t belong here? These people didn’t deserve her help? Or was he just worried she was getting too involved, and it might just infringe on his life once she walked out, which she should have done first thing that morning, but she hadn’t.
That thought had her stomach churning.
Staring back at him, McKenna realized that’s exactly what he was saying. She was getting too close, and he wasn’t comfortable with it. Somewhere along the way, in the last seven days, McKenna had started believing that Tag might actually care about her. And what a fucking mistake that had been.
How could she have been so naive?
Taking a detour over to the couch, McKenna picked up her laptop and then went straight to the door. She was leaving. She didn’t have to put up with this shit from him and as far as the contract was concerned, they had both fulfilled their end of the deal. With the exception of her amendment. But looking at Tag now, she didn’t give a shit about that anymore.
“Where are you going?” Tag growled.
“Anywhere but here.”
“You can’t just leave,” he argued, but he didn’t sound very convincing.
“The hell I can’t. I don’t need to wait around while you try to come up with some bullshit reason to push me away. You can twist it however you want, but it doesn’t change a damn thing.” McKenna was doing her damnedest to rein in her temper, to not let him see how angry she was at what he was doing.
“There’s nothing to twist.”
“The hell there’s not. You feel something, damn it. I don’t care if you’re too stubborn to admit it or not. You feel it just like I do,” she yelled.