I wove through the flower forest and followed him in.
“Close the door.”
I did. Howard dropped into his chair, rubbing his temples. His desk was a disaster zone of papers, sticky notes, and what appeared to be three different phones.
“You look like hell,” I said.
“Funny. I was about to say the same about you.” He gestured at the chair across from him. “Sit.”
I sat. Waited.
“Your piece went wide,” he said finally. “Like, wide wide. AP picked it up. Reuters. Half the cable news networks are running segments. The mayor’s office has issued three statements in two days, and the FBI opened a formal investigation into Corsetti’s holdings this morning.”
My stomach flipped. “Already?”
“Already.” He leaned forward, elbows on the desk. “You’re not just a journalist anymore, Em. You’re a commodity. Everyone wants a piece of you.”
“Hence the flower situation.”
“Hence the flower situation.” He paused, something shifting in his expression. “I’m proud of you. I need you to know that. This is exactly the kind of work we’re supposed to be doing.”
“But?”
“But I’m also worried.” He met my eyes. “Corsetti’s people aren’t going to take this lying down. Neither is anyone connected to those shell companies. You’ve pissed off some very dangerous people.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Because the threats we’ve been fielding—” He shook his head. “I’ve got security on the building. I’ve got ourlegal team on standby. But I can’t protect you outside these walls, Em. You need to be careful.”
The warning settled into my bones. I’d known this was coming — you didn’t expose a man like Victor Corsetti without consequences. But hearing Howard say it made it concrete in a way I’d been avoiding.
“I’ll be careful.”
“Will you?” His gaze sharpened. “Because word is you’ve been spending time with Sebastian Laurent. And before you give me the speech about keeping sources confidential?—”
“It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like?”
I opened my mouth. Closed it. What could I possibly say that wouldn’t sound like exactly what it was — that I’d fallen for the man whose company I’d just exposed, and I was still figuring out how to reconcile the journalist I was with the woman I was becoming?
“It’s complicated,” I finally managed.
Howard snorted. “It always is.” He leaned back, studying me. “Look, I’m not your father. I can’t tell you who to spend time with. But I can tell you that your credibility is everything right now. The whole world is watching. Don’t give them a reason to doubt your integrity.”
“I won’t.”
“Good.” He nodded toward the door. “Now get out there. You’ve got colleagues who want to congratulate you, and I’ve got about seventeen fires to put out.”
I stood, paused. “Howard? Thank you. For having my back on this.”
His expression softened, just slightly. “That’s my job, Rivera. Just don’t make me regret it.”
Back at my desk, I spent the next hour fielding congratulations and deflecting questions with the practiced efficiency of someone who’d learned to talk about their work without giving anything away. Yes, the story had been years in the making. No, I couldn’t reveal my sources. Yes, I was planning follow-up pieces. No, I didn’t have any comment on the rumors about Laurent Enterprises.
By the time the crowd thinned, my coffee had gone cold and my patience had gone with it.
I was reviewing my notes when a shadow fell across my desk.
