“Thanks for coming in today,” he says in a playful voice. “What did you say your name was?” My eyes widen, and I turn to look at Julian.
“Wait. What should my name be?” I say.
“I think we have to go with your real name,” Keaton says. “They are too powerful, and they have too many people who can figure out if it's fake.” I look back at Julian, and he's just nodding.
“Are you still okay with this?” he asks. Before I can answer, Brooks speaks.
“If, at any point, this is too much for you, you can bow out. You know that, right?” he says. I whip my head to him, expecting there to be that same smug look on his face. He wants me to fail. He wants this whole plot to unravel. But instead, all I’m met with is actual concern in his eyes. I think he might actually mean this. I clear my throat and nod.
“I know,” I say, “but I'm not going to. This isn't about me. This is about them.” He nods again, and I clear my throat. I feel a twinge of guilt. It started out as me chasing a story that could blow up my career in an amazing way. I could be in textbooks for this. Studied in journalism courses one day. But now, it’s so much bigger. If the story never gets written, but there is some justice in the world? I can’t think of a better accomplishment. I turn back to Brooks.
“My name is Wren Wright,” I say. He leans back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap.
“Okay, Wren Wright,” he says. “Tell me why I should hire you.”
I lean forward into the table slightly, keeping my eyes trained on him. God, he really is gorgeous. It’s annoying as fuck. I draw in a slow, controlled breath and remember who the fuck I am. I hook my thumb in my hair and push it back over my shoulder. I narrow my eyes on him.
“There is no one else who would do this job better than I can,” I say. He raises an eyebrow.
“Why is that?”
“Because I pay attention. I remember the little details. I’m trying to grow in my career, and I’m ready and willing to pay my dues. I want to learn from you, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”
The room is silent, but Brooks and I don’t take our eyes off each other.
“Well,” Julian says, clapping his hands, “if that doesn’t get her hired, I don’t know what will.”
BROOKS
Fuck, I want her.
It’s annoying as fuck.
I still don’t trust her, but in the same breath, I want her like crazy. Those pouty lips. That killer body that curves in all the right places. That sassy little mouth. The attitude. Ugh. I don’t know what this is, but I know I want more time with her.
And after that, I’m pretty sure she could actually get this job.
She looks down at her watch.
“I’m sorry,” she says, “but I actually need to get going.”
“So soon?” I ask, trying not to sound as desperate as I apparently am.
She doesn’t offer an explanation, just a curt nod as she pushes her chair out from the table.
“No problem,” Julian says. “I’ll get you a car.”
She holds her hand up and shakes her head.
“Oh, no, it’s okay. I can get an Uber,” she says. But my brother gives her a look, and so do I. When she realizes that we aren’t set on that idea, she adds, “I’m going out to Jersey. So it’s really fine.”
I want to ask her why, but there is something about the look on her face that tells me she
really doesn’t want me to. So instead, I stand too.
“I’ve got time,” I say. “We can make a pitstop in Jersey.”
She looks at me then nods when she sees that there is no use in arguing it further. We say our goodbyes, and my brothers both thank her again. I can feel them eyeing me as I lead her toward the elevator, and as the elevator doors open and she steps on, I feel Julian’s hand on my arm.
