The Journalist and Her Actor

Chapter 10

Some people are terrifying. They have a strong presence that leaves you off kilter, feeling like you have to defend yourself at every turn. A one person army of emotional terror. Delle is one of those people. A chaotic phoenix that could burn you with a look. And normally, her determined, straight to the point approach is more charming than terrifying, but at the moment, I wasn't in the mood for the detective side of who she was as I sat there trying to calm myself down after finding out my brother was in the hospital.

"Delle, I really don't have the emotional energy to deal with..." I waved my arm, gesturing to all of her as I closed my eyes. "Look around and deduce what kind of head space I'm in based on the fact that I am currently in the hospital." 

I sunk down further in the hospital chair, wrung out. "Can I get a rain check on the guilt trip? I should have emotional availability tomorrow. I'll put you on my schedule." 

Delle was quiet, watching me for a long moment. "I'm not going to yell at you," she said, her voice suddenly gentle as she sat down next to me. "I just need to understand..." she trailed off, her eyes going to Carter's door. 

I shrugged, not interested in sharing. I wasn't a sharer when it came to Carter. He was my world. A world that others didn't get to see. 

But Delle didn't seem to need me to fill in the blanks. "How's he doing?" 

"Why are you here?" I replied, an edge to my voice, defensive. "How did you know—"

"I did my research on you when we first worked together, remember." 

Turning, I glared at her. "Please don't give me the runaround, Delle. I'm not in the mood. Just answer the question. WHY. ARE. YOU. HERE?" 

She sighed, pushing her long red curly hair out of her face. "To talk. I heard you quit working at the gossip column, but then I see your boss at the party tonight and well... I got curious." 

"Detectives..." I muttered to myself. "Yeah, I quit... but she wants me to finish out my contract." 

A flicker of irritation entered her expression. "Black mailed you?" 

"A little bit." 

Delle swore. "So if you don't write the articles, she'll blast you online, you'll lose your new acting job, and then she'll fire you, which you can't afford because of the money needed for your brother. Did I miss anything?" 

"Nope."

She crossed her arms, chewing on her lower lip, brow furrowed, the wheels turning in her head in a mad dash. "That's a whole lot." 

"Yep." 

Nodding, Delle seemed to come to a decision. "I won't rat you out." 

My head snapped up, and I stared at Delle completely shocked. "What?" 

She leaned back, arms sprawled out on the backs of the chairs. "There was a lot of things I did as a detective that wasn't great. The most common cases we took on were of spouses wanting us to follow each other to see if they were cheating, parents wanting us to follow their children to see if they were doing anything illegal, and divorced couples wanting to see if their significant other was skipping out on alimony. My job wasn't pretty, or clean. And the people we worked for weren't always the best." 

Delle stared down at the white hospital floor, black boots tapping thoughtfully. "Look... you aren't trying to be malicious." 

Swallowing, Delle turned to look at me, her eyes showcasing a rare moment of open honesty. "You are trying to survive. I understand that." She paused, her eyes flashing with something protective. "We do what we gotta do for the people we love."