Ride Rough - Tessa Layne

Chapter One

June

"What do you mean, I'm fired?" Cecilia Sanchez blinked once, twice. Surely, she hadn't heard right? She was great at her job. Like, really great. The strongest journalist her paper had. And she loved what she did. They'd been picking away at Tribune readership for the better part of a year, thanks to her ongoing series regarding bribery and potential embezzlement at the school district. Her investigative reporting had resulted in two school board members being recalled. There was no way she heard him right.

Bob Collins pulled at his collar and adjusted his tie, looking everywhere in the room but at her. Was that sweat between his eyebrows? "I'm sorry Cecilia, but when your article implies that the son of the Board President is involved in-"

"I didn't imply," Cecilia bit out. "I have evidence."

Bob carried on as if she hadn't interrupted. "Potentially illegal-"

"There's no potentially about it."

"Activity," he continued over her, "there will be consequences." Bob's volume ticked up a notch, and for the first time he met her gaze head-on.

Cecilia's stomach plummeted. This couldn't be happening. Not after the months, and months, and months of work she'd put in - nearly a year, piecing the story together bit by painful bit, going on dates with handsy businessmen, biting her tongue until it hurt when they made comments that coming from anyone else would have caused her to dump her drink in their lap. This story was supposed to net her a Pulitzer, not a pink slip. "Who's seen the story?" Hard as she tried, she couldn't keep the tremor from her voice.

Bob ran a puffy hand through his thinning hair, jarring loose a thin strand that flopped dangerously close to his eye. He sighed heavily, all the answer she needed.

"You could have just run the story," she accused, disappointment pressing against her sternum like a bowling ball.

"Like hell, I could have," he snapped. "We both would've been sacked."

"So you sacrificed me." Disappointment quickly transformed into something darker. Her chest flushed as a flash of rage colored her vision. How dare he throw her under the bus to save his own skin?

"You don't understand, Ce-"

"Damn right, I don't."

"I'm six months from retirement. I promised Janet a trip to the ocean."

"Don't give me that line of shit, Bob. Everyone knows you could have retired a year ago." The office pool was up to $300, but so far no one had guessed right. "Come on, Bob. You have no idea what I've sacrificed for this story. My boyfriend dumped me, for Chrissakes." Her heart twisted painfully. That was only the tip of the iceberg. She'd been couch surfing for the last two months.

For a split second, regret flashed in his eyes. "I'm sorry kiddo." He spread his hands. "Once they read the accusations-"

"The evidence. And don't call me kiddo."

Bob kept going as if she wasn't even in the room. "There was no way they weren't burying this at the bottom of Lake Michigan."

How many other stories like hers had been buried at the bottom of Lake Michigan? "I-I'll take it to the Tribune."

When he laughed there was a bitter edge to his voice. "Be my guest. They won't touch it with a ten-foot pole."

"You don't know that." He was probably right, but it was worth a shot. "I bet they're dying for a story this good."

Bob snorted, shaking his head. "You're shit out of luck, kid. There's a merger coming."

For once, Cecilia didn't think to correct him. Her mouth opened but no sound came out. Merger? Shit. Shitshitshit. She swallowed. "When?"

"Press conference at noon today. And you need to be out of the building before then."

Cecilia blinked hard, this time to keep the unexpected moisture from spilling over. She wouldn't give Bob or anyone else for that matter, the satisfaction of seeing her cry. After everything she'd sacrificed, after her years of hard work getting to this point, it was all up in smoke because some powerful asshole could bury her? Fuck. That. She sniffed, rolling her shoulders, and drawing herself up to her full height of 5'2", not counting her four-inch stilettos. "Don't do something you're going to regret, Bob. You're going to regret this."

"I already do," he answered quietly, shoulders slumping. "You've got talent, kid. But a word of advice?"

Heavy silence engulfed them. She didn't have the energy to endure a head-patting from a washed-up editor with no courage.

"You're ah... a strong flavor, Cecilia. You'll go farther in this profession if you tone it down."

"You mean if I'm compliant," she