He raises it to his lips, his eyes blazing with mischief.“Always.”
I’m not ready to talk to Sterling yet.If at all.I’m not convinced he cares, no matter what Lucky says.
Zia looks fantastic in a patterned gown, embroidered with gold, her black pixie styled in finger waves, her lips a rich purple.She looks like a movie star.
“Take this,” she says, passing me a thick tumbler, garnished with orange and mint, that matches the one she’s already holding and clinking our glasses together.“Cheers.I hope you enjoy yourself tonight.It’s going to be an interesting week ahead.”
I know.First thing tomorrow, my article—exposing a popular sleepwear company of lying about the fire resistance of the fabric used in their kids’ line—hits the front page.
The fallout will be messy.
“What if they sue?”
She smiles.“That’s what I pay the lawyers for.Besides, the evidence you collected stands up.I wouldn’t have green-lit the article if I didn’t think we could protect you.”
Have I mentioned how amazing Zia is?Easily the best boss I’ve ever had—the complete opposite of Monica in every way.Warm, interesting, and incredibly smart.
I’m going to be a better reporter for working with her.
“Relax,” she adds.“Getting on people’s shit list is a good thing.It’ll stop them from underestimating you.”
She’s right, and I feel my earlier confidence returning, solidifying like concrete under my feet as I turn back around, instantly finding Lucky and Sterling across the crowd.
It’s not difficult.They’re taller than everyone else.
Hotter too.
“Have you seen Monica?”
Zia looks surprised.“You didn’t hear?”
I whip my head back to her.“Hear what?”
She leans in conspiratorially.“Sterling Ross had her fired.He threatened to quit if she wasn’t let go, and there’s rumblings that he wants to sue her for workplace harassment on behalf of another reporter, but no one will tell me who.”Zia shrugs.
The industry is small.If it is true, it won’t be long until she finds what she’s after.
She doesn’t seem to notice that I’m shocked silent.This isn’t a coincidence.I know that.When something walks like a duck, talks like a duck … well …
Quack, quack.
What I don’t understand iswhy.
Zia continues, “The next thing I know, I’m getting a call, telling me her noncompete excludes us from offering her a position, and we weren’t the only ones.”
Holy shit.
She touches my arm.“Oh, got to go.I see the mayor trying to slip into the restroom, and I’m not leaving tonight until I get us that interview.”
“Good luck.”
I last five seconds before turning back to the source of my attention.
I can’t take my eyes off them.
Sterling stands out, his dark curls brushed back, his cheekbones sharp under the glow of the chandeliers, casting shadows over his strong jaw.The three-piece he’s wearing might as well be painted on.It highlights the broad stretch of his shoulders and his trim waist, and my mouth goes dry every time I look for too long.
Beside him, Lucky is no less delicious, the top few buttons of his shirt open at the collar, and while his jacket can’t do his arms and ass justice, I know Sterling is aware of them.Even from across the room, I can tell when Sterling’s gaze drops and looks away from Lucky’s body.I don’t blame him; it deserves its own wing in a museum.
