It didn’t sound like Logan was doing much better in the hall. Callie couldn’t make out the words, but the sounds told the story just fine. Logan, trying to sooth the manager and talk his way out of the mess, and the manager, shouting at him. When the two stopped talking, and the hallway went silent, Callie realized that she might not just be in trouble, she could be facing charges, trespassing, public indecency, and who knew what else. With every passing moment, she managed to think of some new offense, some new charge for the police to levy against her. She wasn’t a bad girl, she wasn’t even close to it. She was the kind of girl who color coded her class notes, and now she was screwed, completely, royally screwed.
She tried to keep her calm. In some ways, it was easier to be the fixer than the idiot who created the problem in the first place. For the longest time, she had never understood how her clients got themselves into half the situations they did. But now, she understood it well. Impulse control. One moment with the wrong person and poof, you’ve crossed the line and broken the rules. She walked over and placed her ear agains the door. Where the hell was Logan? Callie started to pace back and forth across the room, thinking of every scenario, every possible outcome of the situation.
If she didn’t figure out something soon, she would have to make a phone call back to DC for help. After all, who does a fixer call when she has completely screwed up? Callie could already imagine the lecture Amy would give her if she called. There was no good way out of this. She just had to let her guard down and go along with one of Logan’s whims. Callie stopped for a moment and straightened her posture. This wasn’t Logan’s fault. This was her fault. She had been sent to Newport because Logan couldn’t behave himself, and what had she done? She had gone right along with him, holding his hand and skipping along down the road to ruin. If she had to call for help, she’d never live this down. Callie Haven: the fixer who couldn’t get past a tour guide. Besides, she had no signal. She couldn’t make a call if she wanted to. It’s a sign, she told herself. Just remain calm and everything will work out.
After what felt like hours but was probably only five minutes, the door opened, and a woman stepped inside.
“You must be Ms. Haven,” she said. The woman’s gray hair was pulled back in a bun, and her glasses sat low on the bridge of her nose. She gave Callie a stern look, waiting for her to acknowledge that she had done something wrong.
Callie made sure to look the woman in the eye, if only for a second. “Yes, I am. I’m really sorry. I think there has been a misunderstanding.”
The woman warily shook her head in disapproval. “Please, come with me.”
The woman’s look made Callie wonder if this kind of thing happened often in the mansion. “Where’s Logan?” she asked.
“Mr. Harris has been escorted outside. I believe he’s occupied at the moment.”
Just get me outside, Callie thought. The path back up from the basement seemed longer and more circuitous than before. The hallways seemed narrower, and Callie wondered if the woman was even leading her outside. Finally, the woman stepped up to a door and pushed it open. Bright light poured in, and Callie wasted no time stepping outside. Callie had never been so glad to feel the sunshine on her face. Now all she had to do was leave as quickly as possible. She decided to start walking without Logan. If he wanted to find her, he’d find her.
Instead, she saw him. He was on the phone, pacing back and forth on the back lawn. He looked worried, confused. Callie wondered if it had to do with them getting caught or if it was something else. Shit. Veronica. Had the story broken? If that story had gotten out, Callie was screwed. She had one job: keep Logan out of the press until the bill passed, and instead of doing her job, she had let herself run around with him like some teenager in love. How could she have been so stupid? Her phone was ringing nonstop in her purse.#p#分页标题#e#
Callie looked down. Fourteen missed calls. Six voicemails and one text from Amy: CNN. Now! “What the hell?” Callie said. This was bigger than some sex tape. What was going on?
By the time she looked up, Logan had crossed the lawn and was standing by her side. “Hey, you’ve heard, right?” He mustered a half-hearted smile.
“No. All I know is that in the hour that I was locked in a basement, something happened.”
Logan placed his hand on Callie’s arm. “I thought you’d be thrilled. The bill passed.”
Callie gasped. “It what? How?”
“Looks like Jack came through. Someone must have talked some sense into him.”