Free The Last Word by A. L. Michael Page B

rubbish.’
    Rhi nodded towards their front door. ‘Shouldn’t you get back in there? In case the posh twat thing is an act and he steals all of our stuff?’
    ‘A VHS player, IKEA furniture and Primark furnishings? It’s probably his idea of hell.’
    ‘Good.’ Rhi snorted. ‘Let him stay forever then.’
    When Tabby returned, Harry did not seem to be in hell. He was lounging on her sofa drinking wine. He turned to look at her as she walked through the door, an amused grin twitching at his mouth.
    ‘Stop looking at me like that.’ Tabby grabbed her wine glass from the table and took a few healthy gulps.
    ‘Like what?’
    ‘Like I’m a particularly difficult Rubik’s cube, but you’re a master puzzle player.’
    ‘That was a terrible analogy.’ All Harry seemed to do was grin. He patted the sofa. ‘Come tell me all about your problems, Tabitha.’
    ‘Oh good, therapy. Wonderful. I feel particularly safe telling you all my secrets,’ Tabby bit out, but sat down anyway, keeping a safe distance from Harry, and tucking her feet up under her. Which was no help, as he had his arm stretched along the back of the sofa, and gently tugged at a strand of her hair.
    ‘Come on, Mystery Girl. What’s the deal with the charming flatmate? Is your life always so dramatic?’
    ‘No, usually my life bores me to tears. It’s Rhi’s life that’s dramatic, what with the slogans and the chanting and the being outraged at The Man.’
    Tabby suddenly felt like she’d betrayed her friend. ‘Not that it’s not important. It is. Rhi cares about a lot of issues…’
    ‘And you. That was clear.’ He turned his body to face her and once again she was struck by the fact that he was just too pretty to be sitting on her second-hand sofa, drinking from her mismatched wine glasses and listening to her problems. ‘Someone hurt you, Tabs?’
    She supposed it was fair to tell him. He was working with her and dealing with her alternating surges in confidence and crashes into self-doubt. Plus, it was better to tell him now, when he was being all sweet and quiet, instead of saying stupid things that made her alternately want to kiss him or take a pick axe to his head.
    ‘I…My fall from grace at the paper, three years ago…’ she started, not really sure how much he knew.
    ‘The injunction thing…’ He grabbed the bottle from by his feet to top up her glass.
    ‘Thanks. Yeah, that.’ She sighed. ‘We heard an injunction was coming in so I told my editor, Richard, that we should hold on the story. He said I was being weak, that we could fight it, it was important news. Yadda yadda, blah blah. He convinced me to publish it, I got fired. End of.’
    Harry’s eyes looked mournful and yet also a little inquisitive. He seemed to know there was more to the story. He had a knack for it. Not that Tabby had searched for his articles on Google or anything. But if she had, the articles she’d have found would have been honest stories, understanding the real point of what was happening and who mattered. Which made holding up under his scrutiny pretty damn tough.
    ‘The editor’s the last line of defence though. Shouldn’t it have been his arse on the line? It was his choice, right?’
    Tabby could feel shame creeping up her neck in a flush. She kept her eyes on her wine really didn’t want to be talking about this. Harry already thought she was an irrational moron. To know that she’d thrown her career away…
    ‘He convinced me it was best for both of us. I…I thought I was in love with him. He spun a whole bunch of bullshit about how we’d get though it together. How I should publish it on my personal page, so the paper wasn’t to blame. How if his reputation remained untarnished he could help me get a job elsewhere…’
    Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and tried not to explode. ‘And you believed him? You’re a reporter! You’re basically a human lie detector!’ He was incredulous. He may as well have called her an