I couldn’t believe it as I watched the twins sign the papers.
"I’ll just bring the family round in a bit!" Dottie said, taking the papers and leaving.
"I need to get out of here," I said, pushing off the fainting couch. "Can I borrow the hearse?"
"What for?" the twins chorused.
"My mother is going to run that story. I need to beg."
"What you need to do is go over her head," Morticia said. "Who owns the magazine?"
We looked online. "It said Evan Harrington's investment firm bought it," I said, looking at Wikipedia. There was a picture of a handsome, square-jawed, brown-haired man.
"He looks like a grade-A douche," Lilith remarked.
"Better wear your good bra, not the one with the elastic all strung out so your boobs are down by your waist!" Morticia called as I ran upstairs.
I grumbled and changed. Then I teased my hair and grabbed my best fuck-me heels. I had basically just lost everything I cared about. I wasn’t going to let the same happen to Garrett.
* * *
The sky wasgray and overcast as I drove to Manhattan. The hearse couldn't go all that fast—it had a tendency to fishtail. People honked and rolled down their windows to curse at me as I crept slowly down the freeway.
"I’m in the far right-hand lane!" I screeched as I tried to drive and crank open the window so I could yell at the critics properly.
I was frazzled when I pulled up in front of the Harrington Investment tower. I parked the hearse and handed the keys to the valet. He looked between me and the large black car.
"Lady, what the hell?"
I ignored him.
"I need to see Mr. Harrington," I said when I marched into the building.
The receptionist rolled her eyes. "You can’t just go up to see Mr. Harrington. He is a busy man."
"When is his next appointment?"
She snapped her gum. "Um, for you? Never."
"This is important!" I practically shouted.
The receptionist pushed an intercom button. "Security."
"Hey, Shonda. Oh, hi, Penny."
"What are you doing here?" I said.
It was Sebastian. He had a bag from the Grey Dove Bistro in one hand, his phone in the other.
"I need to see Mr. Harrington. She won’t let me up," I begged. "It’s an emergency; I’ll be quick."
Shonda crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.
"Evan is my best friend. We were roommates at Stanford," Sebastian said. "Here, I’ll take you up. If that’s all right with you, Shonda?"
"I guess."
I tried to calm down and think about what I was going to say as we rode the elevator up to the top floor.
