“This looks amazing,” Ewen said, his voice rougher than usual.
“I figured you deserved the meal you missed out on the night we met.” Lamont pulled out Ewen’s chair, then moved to his own seat across the table. The distance felt necessary. If Ewen sat any closer, Lamont wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his hands to himself.
He poured the wine with a steady hand. That was a small victory in itself, considering how much he wanted to skip straight to dessert. Or more accurately, skip straight to carrying Ewen to the bedroom and spending the rest of the night learning every sexy sound his mate could make.
“To finding each other,” Lamont said, raising his glass.
Ewen smiled, raising his own glass. “To not giving up when things got complicated. Thank you.”
The wine was excellent, the food even better, but Lamont barely tasted either. He was too focused on Ewen - the way candlelight caught in his dark hair, the careful precision with which he cut his meat, the small, satisfied sound he made after the first bite, and the small wrinkles he got around his eyes as he chewed and smiled all at the same time.
“I’ve been thinking about your story,” Lamont said, forcing himself to focus on something other than how Ewen’s lips looked wrapped around the rim of his wine glass. “I don’t think taking it to The Times is a good idea.”
Ewen’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. “What? Why not?”
“If you remember, I told you that Louise had already confided that you’d been scrubbed from the employment records. The Times is under pressure to keep anything about you or your investigation buried.” Lamont took a bite of beef, chewing thoughtfully before continuing. “There’s a good chance they’d take your evidence and kill the story entirely. They would claimthat they were ‘looking into it’ while some intern out back was probably shredding all the evidence you’ve found.”
“Shit.” Ewen set his fork down, his appetite clearly fading. “I worked there for three years. I had damn good relationships with my editors. Was it too much to think…” He broke off, his jaw tight. “Yeah, I get it. Silly of me. I thought they’d have my back.”
“It’s not about loyalty. It’s about leverage.” Lamont reached across the table, covering Ewen’s hand with his own. “Whoever’s behind this has enough pull to make The Times fold. That doesn’t mean your work was wasted. It just means we need to be smarter about where we take it.”
Ewen’s fingers curled around Lamont’s, gripping tight. “Which outlet would even touch this now? If this mystical ‘they’ has already got to The Times, they can get to anyone.”
“Not anyone.” Lamont withdrew his hand reluctantly, returning to his meal. “I’ve got connections with several major international outlets. Der Spiegel in Germany, The Guardian in London, Le Monde in Paris. They’re outside the immediate reach of US political pressure, and they’ve all got experience handling sensitive material.”
“You think one of them would run it?”
“I think they’d jump at the chance. Remember that both Hardline and the Arcturus Group have international offices, so it could be argued that the evidence has repercussions for other governments, too.” Lamont refilled both their wine glasses. “Der Spiegel especially. They love exposing corruption in foreign governments, and the documentation you’ve got is solid. We could also approach ProPublica - they’re nonprofit, so they’re harder to pressure financially. And if we coordinate releases across multiple outlets simultaneously…”
His phone rang, and Lamont actually jumped because it was so unexpected. Barely anyone called him unless he was working on an active story, and since the business with Giorgio, he hadn’t been.
Pulling his phone out of his pants pocket, Lamont glanced at the screen, frowning when he saw Louise’s name. He held up a finger to his lips, catching Ewen’s eye, then tapped the speaker icon.
“Louise, hey. What’s up?”
“Lamont! I’m so glad I caught you.” Louise’s voice had that same friendly tone she always used, but something underneath it felt wrong, almost forced. It was as if she were reading from a script. “I wanted to follow up about your friend and mine, Ewen Cross. Did you ever find any trace of him?”
Lamont kept his expression neutral, watching Ewen tense across the table. “No, nothing. I checked around Cairo again after talking to you, but came up empty. Then I got an assignment with a London paper…”Mostly true.
“Oh, that’s such a relief!”
Relief? What happened to the concern she’d been showing the last time he’d spoken to her?
“How so?” Lamont asked carefully. “Has he been found?”
“Well, no, at least, he hasn’t turned up at the office, but it turns out there was no need to worry about Ewen at all. The whole disappearance thing was just a big misunderstanding that got blown out of proportion.” Louise laughed, the sound too high, too cheerful, and brittle enough to break. “Apparently, he took a sabbatical from The Times to work on a book. Can you believe it? All that fuss and drama over nothing.”
Lamont’s hound growled low in his chest. Lies. Someone had fed Louise a story and told her to sell it.
“A book,” Lamont repeated flatly.
“Mmhmm. His editor was so embarrassed when they figured it out. Ewen probably just wanted some privacy to focus on his writing, you know? Journalists can be real drama llamas about these things.” Another forced laugh. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know so you wouldn’t waste any more time looking for him. Everything’s fine!”
“That’s good to know, I guess. Thanks for the update, Louise.”
“Anytime. Maybe we can grab a coffee next time you’re in New York. Take care, Lamont.”
The line went dead.