remark slide by. She knew it was the final version. “I think Kait is actually putting it on hold. For now, anyway.”
A tiny smirk crept up her mouth. “Yeah, I know. But I figured you could still use some help in the writing department. Better luck next time, kid,” she said, and walked away.
On my desk I found bloodied pages. She went old-school with a red pen and everything. She’d crossed out half my lines and the ones she left had things like Really?? in the margins.
It was total crap. She may as well have taken her red pen and stabbed out my soul.
Next I got a visit from Alexa.
“So,” she said, “I guess you decided to take him to the movies after all, huh?”
Alexa had started to caution me about taking Leo on my New Girl date, but then had pulled back.
“I suppose I should have listened to you,” I said.
“Yeah. It’s so weird how the paparazzi just seem to know where to find the celebrities, isn’t it? Even when they’re at a totally new place.”
She looked so satisfied that I felt like I knew—she had made some phone call and told photographers where we’d be. Alexa had set me up.
I felt like everyone in the office was against me.
It wasn't until almost the end of the day that Leo texted me back.
My apt, 8.
That’s all it said. I had no idea if he knew about the paparazzi photo and if so, if he was mad about it. He couldn't be, right? He was photographed all the time with beautiful women. He couldn't avoid it. As long as he didn’t know who I really was, I was sure I’d be fine.
When I reported the night’s date at his place to Kait she didn’t look pleased or annoyed or anything. All business, out to get Leo Armstrong. I kind of wished she’d yell at me—the quiet fury terrified me.
“I assume his building has a doorman?” she asked.
“I think so,” I said. There’d been many uniformed people in the lobby each time I’d been there.
“Talk to him,” she said. “Doorman, concierge, whoever is there, or both. They surely haven’t signed confidentiality agreements. Get some dirt from them—how many different women he’s brought home, if he has several women at once, any women coming by late at night alone, someone who could be a prostitute. Oh, grow up,” she said, probably noticing the shocked look on my face at having to find out if Leo had prostitutes visiting his apartment. “I shouldn’t have to tell you to do these things. You should know to do them on your own. Don’t let us down, Sophie. Get the story.”
With that, I was dismissed.
Chapter 17
I walked across the lobby of Leo’s apartment building later that evening in a yellow cotton sundress and flats of my own. Kait had thrust another cleavage-baring dress and sky-high stilettos at me, telling me the wear them tonight, but I’d left them in the backseat of my car. I didn’t want to wear her clothes anymore.
I stopped at the desk—they needed to unlock Leo’s private elevator to let me up once they’d okayed it with a quick call to him. As I waited for Ernie—the same guest manager, as he was called, who had been there on the other nights I’d come by—to call Leo, I drummed my fingers, trying to pull up the nerve to ask Ernie the questions Kait wanted answers to for the story. Part of me still wanted to do my job, and do it well. The other part of me was starting to think it was sort of gross to try to expose Leo, and for what? Dating other women? He was allowed to do that, just as I was allowed to see other men—if I knew any, or had any hint of desire. As it was, Leo was the only person who held any interest for me. He was all I could see.
As Ernie picked up the phone to call upstairs, I said, “I bet you’re doing this all the time for him, huh?” I gave a little laugh, like I was in on the joke.
Ernie held up a finger, and soon he was telling Leo that “Miss Adams” was there to see him. When he hung up and told me I could take the elevator, I gave it another try. “I bet I’m not the first girl to take this ride, am I right, Ernie?” I cringed, hearing myself. I was worthless. I