Dirty Sexy Alphas (Twenty Book Box Set) - Hannah Ford Page 0,246

because surely that’s what she was pissed about.

“I know you did. And I bet I know who you took on that date,” she said, and slapped a print out on the desk in front of me. I picked it up and saw a dark, grainy photo of two people sitting inside a luxury sedan, parked at a drive-in movie theater.

“Is that you?” Kait asked. “It looks like you, and it’s definitely him, but those are not our clothes.”

Leo Armstrong Spotted With Mystery Woman. Who Is She?!

“Need I remind you that you are undercover?” Kait said. “If the paparazzi find out that you’re a writer with Crush magazine then the whole thing is over. Do you get that?”

“Yes,” I stammered, holding the picture in my shaking hands. The picture showed Leo looking me, smiling. It was right before he leaned across and kissed me. I had lost focus on the story and now the whole thing was about to blow up in my face. What if Leo had seen this? Would he think I was just with him for press?

Christ, I thought. Maybe I did have the two confused.

“I know you’ve been out with him in public, but that was to his places that he knows—and I know how people in this town can bribe anyone from a restaurant manager to the busboy to keep their mouths shut about their celebrity clients,” Kait continued. “But you took him to one of your places—and on assignment for the magazine. I can’t even begin to know what you were thinking. So what are we supposed to do with your drive-in story? Run it with this picture? Jesus, Sophie.” She sat back in her chair, exasperated.

“I’m sorry,” I began, and my voice was trembling. God, if I started crying…

“Your story is scrapped,” Kait said, swiftly, like the drop of the guillotine. “We need to know the impact of this photo. We’ll have to wait a couple of days to see if the press picks up on who you are because I guarantee you, they’re digging right now. You’re lucky you weren’t in your own car. Someone would have run your license plate through the DMV to find out. Not taking your own car is the only thing you did right.”

If she only knew. I couldn’t believe such a great night had turned out to be such a disaster. And what about Leo? My phone was in my bag at my feet and I was itching to check it, see if he’d texted me. I had to make sure he wasn’t mad about the photo—to see if he even knew about it. I also had to make sure I didn’t lose my job.

“I’ll fix it, I promise,” I said to Kait, but she quickly cut me off.

“I’m here to tell you how to fix it,” she said. “Get your phone out and text him right now.”

I didn’t dare tell her that’s exactly what I wanted to do. Except, of course, I would have preferred to do it alone in my cubicle. I hesitated for a moment before reaching down into my bag.

“Text this,” she began. “‘Still thinking about you. Dinner tonight, question mark. Your choice.’ You got that?”

I was sick to my stomach, but I wrote the words. My thumb hovered over Send. Maybe I could go back to my desk and write what I wanted to write. Ask him if he was okay, or maybe write a joke, like, The name is Nuwanda. He’d get it. I wouldn’t even have to remind him about Dalton from Dead Poets Society saying it.

I realized that Leo Armstrong and I had inside jokes now. That’s how close we’d become. Real close. True close. Not scamming-for-a-story close.

“Sophie,” Kait said, pulling me back. “Send it. Let me see.” She held out her hand like a teacher checking her student’s work. It was humiliating.

I didn’t want to lose my job, and really, the text was harmless. Just a check-in with Leo. So I hit Send and showed my phone to Kait.

“Good,” she said. “I want to know when he writes, where you’re going, and what he says. Understood?”

“Sure,” I said, completely defeated.

“Now go,” she said, and turned away from me.

When I got back to my desk, Pam was just walking away. She turned back when she saw me.

“There you are,” she said. “I was up early so I read your rough draft. I made a few marks and suggestions. Left it on your desk.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, letting the rough draft