Free Kiss and Tell 2 by Faith Winslow

my face feel warm.
    London perked up a little and leaned back on the sofa. “Sounds interesting,” he said. “Go on.”
    I decided that London didn’t need to know about what a prick Willard ended up being, and opted not to tell him about the blackmail note or the related job offer. Instead of reliving any of that, I relived the good parts and told him the short version of how Anthony ended up fucking me on top of his desk, in his lush office on the 12th floor of Stonegate Tower.
    London was all ears as I recounted the lurid details, and he pushed and prodded me for more information. He wanted to know what this meant for me and Anthony, if (and when) we were going to see each other again, and how we were going to deal with things as far as my parents were concerned.
    It was exactly as I expected it to be. Talking with London made the experience seem more real, and I was grateful that I had a friend to share it with.
    I answered most of London’s questions with “I don’t know,” and he ended up asking me the same questions again and again, as if I’d reach an epiphany and change my answer. When I didn’t, he finally moved on and started asking different questions.
    “What else did you guys talk about?” he inquired.
    At this point, two things happened: (1) I reminded myself, again, of my promise to Anthony; and (2) my phone started buzzing in my purse. I was pretty sure that it was Mom calling—a follow-up to the preemptive call she’d placed that morning—and I decided to deal with those two things, in that order.

Chapter 13
     
    “Nothing, really,” I said in response to London’s question.
    “So you guys just fucked and that was it?” London asked snidely. I didn’t like his tone, but I was too distracted to say or do anything about it. My phone had stopped buzzing from one call, and was now buzzing from another.
    “He had a last-minute meeting pop up this morning,” I added, pulling select information from my bag of lies. My phone stopped buzzing, then started again. “So we knew we didn’t have much time, and got right down to business.”
    “Interesting,” London said. He looked at me suspiciously. Even though I was trying my best to look and act comfortable, the situation was getting the better of me. Something about it was very unsettling.
    “How did he act toward you?” London asked. “Did he treat you the same as before, or did he act any different?”
    London sure was asking a lot of questions, and sure enough, my phone buzzed for a fourth time.
    “He acted the same,” I said. My mind was spinning, and a variety of thoughts and facts collided in my head, leading me to a series of alarming conclusions.
    “My phone keeps ringing,” I said, stating one obvious thing and trying to avoid another. “I’m gonna get it.”
    London nodded and took a sip from his beer as I walked to retrieve my bag from the entry table where I’d placed it. By the time I pulled my phone out, it had stopped ringing, and I saw that I’d missed six calls from the same “private” number.
    As I held my phone in my hand, it started buzzing again, and “private” flashed across the screen. This time, I answered it.
    “Hello?” I said.
    “Kirby, I’ve been trying to call you!” a strained voice cried out from the other end. It was Anthony, and he sounded worried.
    “It wasn’t Willard Preston who sent the note,” he went on, not waiting for me to respond. “It was London. Your neighbor, London Gallagher, is the one trying to blackmail me.”
    “I know, Mom,” I said, cool as a cucumber. “I’m really sorry about that…and I’m sorry I didn’t answer your calls until now. I stopped over at the pool house on my way home, and I’ve been hanging out with London.”
    I was being both cryptic and honest, and thankfully, Anthony picked up on it.
    “You’re still there now, aren’t you?” he asked. “And he’s listening?”
    Instinctively, I glanced over at London, even though I didn’t need