Wes Chen. She’d known him for a decade, the weasel. He’d been a sliver under her skin since he’d stolen her dream internship right out of university. Then she’d snagged the job he’d applied to at an online news agency, and that had set them off. It seemed every time she had wind of a good story, Wes was already on it. At least she’d managed to scoop him on the lobbyist thing last year. After accepting her Canadian Journalism award, she’d been filled with satisfaction at the sight of his sour face. It made up for the year before, when the opposite had happened. She knew he kept track of the awards each of them won. She did too.
Wes didn’t answer, instead turning to the intercom and pushing the button. No matter. She knew why he was in the Bridle Path: to show Nadine up in some unknown way.
“Get away from my source,” she snapped.
“Your source?” He stared straight ahead, which meant Nadine was forced to address his very striking profile. She might dislike him, butthere was no denying Wes had a nice nose. And cheekbones. Lips. Too bad when they were moving, it was usually to irritate her. “Sorry, I’m here because I wanted to meet the only woman to have been resurrected from the dead.”
That was a low blow, but to be expected from him. “Doing a story about her interior decorating?” she asked sweetly. “Or a roundup of which of her books to pair with what snacks?”
Instead of answering, he pressed the button again, this time so hard his finger bent and turned white.
To Nadine’s astonishment and apparently Wes’s from the way he leapt back as if the intercom was electrified, a voice boomed out. “What do you want?”
Wes recovered himself first. “Dot Voline?”
“Who wants to know, handsome?” The voice dropped to a breathy but gravelly purr that might have emanated from a tiger trapped in a cement mixer.
“Uh.” Wes stared wide-eyed at the intercom.
Nadine saw her chance and took a step forward, forcing Wes away from the speaker. “Ms. Voline, this is Nadine Barbault of theHerald.”
“That old rag? I don’t know what was worse, hearing I was dead or having to read through the stilted prose that made me wish I was. Three-quarters of it was a dismal summary of my own books that lacked insight or context and bored even me.”
She supposed that confirmed the speaker. Wes’s delighted smile lit up his face, and she glared at him before turning back to the intercom.
“About that.” Nadine had barely started her apology—which she had written out and memorized—when Wes rudely interrupted, moving a half step in front of her.
“Wes Chen, of theSpear.”
Nadine took a page from his playbook and tried to slide ahead of him. Wes anticipated the move and thwarted her, stepping around and forward with a snakelike motion. They ended up jostling each otherlike sunburned tourists at an all-inclusive resort competing for the last slice of bacon until Wes came out triumphant, getting so close to the intercom Nadine thought he could lick it.
“TheSpear? Never heard of it,” said Voline.
Nadine laughed. Wes shot her a look as she debated whether hip checking him out of the way would be considered assault or self-defense.
“It’s a digital news—”
“I also don’t care,” said Voline. “What do you two lovebirds want?”
“Lovebirds?” gasped Wes. He reeled back as if he’d rather get into that cement mixer with the tiger than have anything to do with her. What a drama queen.
Nadine wedged herself in the space Wes had left to the intercom. “I’d like to ask—”
“No.”
“No?” she repeated.
No answer.
Nadine refused to look at Wes, the monster who had ruined her chance to get an interview. He and Irina must be in a competition on who could wreck her day in the most annoying way possible. If so, Wes was the current standout champion.
“Ms. Voline?” he asked. “Ma’am?”
Silence.
Nadine looked through the gate as if Voline would be waiting at the steps ready to sweep down in a flurry of feathers and silk like a modern Gloria Swanson to berate them in person. “Dot?” she said loudly.
The intercom crackled back on. “That’s Ms. Voline, you ambulance chaser.”
