Work In Progress (Red Lipstick Coalition #3) - Staci Hart Page 0,94
USA Times’ offices were. Our parting kiss had left me floating, tethered to the earth by nothing more than a piece of twine. But every block that brought me closer to Janessa tugged on that string, shortening the distance between me and the ground.
By the time I stepped into the elevator, my shoes weighed ten pounds apiece. The offices were busy, full of phones ringing, people chattering, reporters marching through mazes of cubicles. Everyone looked exhausted, but that was nothing new. I didn’t think there was ever a moment where anyone’s work was actually done.
Janessa’s assistant waved me into her office, absorbed with whoever was chattering into her earpiece, never acknowledging me beyond eye contact and a few gestures.
When I entered the office, Janessa smiled at me from behind her desk, leaning back elegantly in her chair, so at ease. As if we were old friends.
“Amelia, it’s good to see you. Please, sit.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled and took one of the chairs. The leather creaked as I sat.
“How’s life as Mrs. Bane?”
A hot flush climbed my neck like the devil’s fingertips. “Good. He’s easy to be married to.”
She chuckled. “I bet he is. And how’s the story coming?” Some secondary question lingered under the spoken one, though I couldn’t comprehend what it might be. “I expected an outline already, and your first month is due soon. I don’t like being kept in the dark.”
“I…we’ve been so busy working on the book, we haven’t had much time for anything else. But I’m getting my outline together. Just need to circle back with Tommy on it.”
She watched me for a moment. “I had some thoughts.”
I nodded, reaching into my bag for my notepad and pen. “I’d love to hear them.”
A smile curled her lips. It was not a friendly smile. “Excellent.” She stood as she spoke, walking around to my side of her desk to hitch a leg on the surface. “I understand what he’s looking for—a fluff piece. He wants a pretty little editorial to paint him as the sympathetic rogue, the good guy, the misunderstood scoundrel with the rags-to-riches story.”
I frowned. That was exactly what he was.
“But there’s more to him than that. And that is the story I want. I want the truth, Amelia. I want to know about the fake relationships before you.” At my attempt to protest, she waved a hand. “Don’t deny it. I already know it’s true. But I want to know why, how, when. What did the other girls get out of it? Was anything real, or is everything we know about Thomas Bane a lie? Why have I never been able to find out anything about his mother? He’s hiding something, and I want to know what it is. I don’t want an editorial, Amelia. I want an exposé.”
My pen never touched paper. I couldn’t bear to write the words down. “Janessa, I don’t know if I can do that.”
Her head tilted, her eyes hard and calculating. She reminded me of a cobra with its eyes on its prey. “Oh, I think you can. It’s just a question of whether or not you will.”
My brain fired in six different directions, and all of them said no.
She spoke before I had to. “I have been after the truth under Thomas Bane’s mask for years. A dozen good reporters have failed, but you have something they could never gain.” She leaned in. “His trust.”
Discomfort seized my guts—they crawled into themselves at the implication. I fought the urge to stand up, excuse myself, and bolt out of the building like it was on fire.
I couldn’t do what she wanted. I wouldn’t.
But I panicked all the same.
I swallowed hard, my mind reeling, an idea springing. “There must be a compromise to be made, some other way. If I can find another angle, will you consider it?”
“You can try. But I doubt you’ll change my mind. I’d like you to think very long and hard about what it is you want, Amelia. Because the time might come that you have to choose—Tommy or your career.”
A resounding howl of Tommy’s name whistled in my chest. I was otherwise still and silent.
She stood, her tone instantly cheerful and light. “I for one can’t wait to see what you come up with. You’re an incredible writer with a bright future. I have high hopes for you, Mrs. Bane.” She sat, smiling amiably at me, as if she hadn’t just thrown down the gauntlet at my feet. “Any questions?”