"Great. Now take off. Not together," he groaned when we all stood. "One or two at a time. Like you're leaving a mix." He pulled me aside as Lexi and Jordi were saying their good-byes. "Listen, about that journal you've been keeping," he said.
My knee-jerk response was, "What jour—"
He held up a hand. "Please. Tell me you're not about to ask, 'What journal?'"
"Well, I ...." couldn't tell him that. "You read my journal?" I squeaked instead.
"Not the whole—"
"Wait a minute!" I whispered frantically, grabbing the lapel of his jacket to drag him farther away from the others. "How did you know I had a journal in the first place? I haven't mentioned it to anyone!"
"Yeah, but I was investi—"
"Wait a minute!" I shook my fistful of black fabric. "How did you open the file? It's password protected!" His gaze dropped, so did mine. We both stared at the hand mangling his lapel. "Sorry," I mumbled, and let go, brushing at the bunched-up wool blend as I tried to wrap my head around the fact that I had practically assaulted the scariest man I had ever met.
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