Filthy Secrets: A Steamy Romance Boxset Collection

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Filthy Secrets: A Steamy Romance Boxset Collection Page 71

by Nova Rain


  Jake’s fate had another effect on me, other than misery. I couldn’t decide what to do with the job offer at the Beverly Hills Chronicle. What was clear to me prior to his tragic death, had now become a huge dilemma. Every time I had a few minutes to spare at work, I stared at the contract on my computer screen.

  Part of me screamed: “Print, sign, scan and email the damn thing. Remember what it took for you to get here. Years writing obituaries, covering ridiculous events like ‘Mama Mabel’s’ pastry shop Thanksgiving specials,’ and endless hours on the road. This is your chance to cash in on all that hard work. Will you let it go to waste?”

  And just when I was about to accept that offer, a little voice inside ensured that I did no such thing. How? By reminding me what that job had cost the man I loved. As much as I hated to admit it, his mother was one hundred percent right. Had I not abandoned Jake, her son would still be alive. He wouldn’t have had to seek refuge with his mother. He would have stayed in New York, hundreds of miles from that accursed road that claimed his life.

  Drowning in indecision, I requested Ava’s advice. However, not even she could help me out in this case. In essence, what she did was repeat the reasons why and the reasons why I shouldn’t take that job over and over. There was a time when I would complain to her about not being so helpful. The selfish girl would emerge, and express her annoyance with a glare and a shout.

  No more.

  I didn’t insist on the matter. Neither was I harsh on her, like I used to be. The era of the demanding, self-centered Penny was over. It ended on the day that Jake’s death tore my heart to pieces. My love for him was still strong inside, urging me to be nicer to the people closest to me. And if I had any hope of keeping them in my life, I would have to show them much more respect.

  On December 13th, just two days before the job offer expired, an email from Julia Kessler provided me the solution I had been unable to find. I hadn’t reached out to her since that phone call, which hadn’t gone well with her. So, she let me know that she had cancelled the ticket, and had sent me a new one. The departure date was December 14th, whereas my return date was the day after. Her last sentence in that email was: “Either get over here tomorrow, or forget I ever offered you this job.” Needless to say, I didn’t appreciate this one bit. I never liked being bossed around, not even by my superiors. Still, I had to do this, because I would get the one thing that had been eluding me for weeks.

  Closure.

  Whatever I decided, my story with Jake would end. Whether I was in New York or Los Angeles, I would be free to put it behind me.

  The familiar roar of an airplane taking off pierced my ears as I reached La Guardia, causing the windows of the cab to vibrate.

  I’m just seconds away from the gates of hell.

  That’s what the glass entrance symbolized to me. The entryway to the world dominated by Jake’s presence, a world where everybody knew him. He had to have been there hundreds or even thousands of times.

  Chills raced down my spine, the moment I set foot in there. I heard the announcer’s female voice from the speakers, noticing the announcement board down the vast hall.

  Courage, Penny. Your flight leaves in less than two hours.

  That was easier said than done. Strolling to the right, I came across a newsstand, with a young blonde behind the counter. On the wall behind her, was hanging a picture of a smiling man. A closer look made his identity loud and clear. It was Jake, in his blue uniform. The caption under the photo read:

  “Captain Jake Turner

  9-24-1988—12-3-2019

  Forever in our hearts”

  “Good morning. I’ll have a copy of the Brooklyn Bulletin, please,” I requested, averting my gaze from the frame.

  “Good morning! I’m sorry to ask, but, do I know you from somewhere?” She addressed me in a friendly tone, handing me the newspaper. “Oh, yeah. You’re Captain Turner’s last girlfriend!” She went on, her brown eyes sparkling with excitement for an instant. “I loved what you said about him at his funeral. You must miss him a lot. I know we do around here.”

  “We?”

  “Well, yeah. He always came by after a flight, just to say ‘hi.’ Sometimes, he even bought us coffee,” the clerk explained, deepening my pain.

  “Thank you,” I croaked, leaving the money on the counter. I strode away from the polite girl, understanding that I was on the verge of collapse. Alas, my fears were not unfounded. Jake had left his mark in that airport. I had no doubt that he had done so in pretty much every airport he had visited in the long years of his career.

  That caption was still lingering in my mind when I entered the American Airlines jet. Finding my seat, I lay back in it and looked out the window. Hundreds of yards down the airport, a massive, United Airlines Boeing 777 filled my line of sight.

  “Oh, dear God…” I sighed, squeezing my eyes shut. This felt more and more like a bad joke. Somehow, fate itself had conspired against me. It had already driven its knife through my gut by taking him from me. Now, it was once again showing its cruel nature by placing me among things Jake loved the most.

  All of a sudden, my ears picked up the sound of heavy footfalls on the floor. I took my eyes off the huge airplane outside and looked to my left. My heart fluttered in my chest as I spotted my pilot’s imposing figure strolling down the aisle. Smiling as usual, wearing his squeaky-clean uniform and his hat, the wings on the left side of his chest shimmering.

  “Jake?!” I squeaked, jumping from my seat. “Jake, is that you?”

  “Excuse me, ma’am, have we met?” He asked, his polite smile staying on.

  “Jake, it’s me!” I pointed to myself, raising my tone. “Penny! Don’t you remember me?”

  “Of course I do, I was just messing with you.” He softened his voice, stopping at my row. “How could I forget my feisty girl?”

  I stepped past the empty seats next to me and leaned over towards him. I threw my arms around him and squeezed, but, as I did, a fuzzy sensation on my cheek baffled me. Opening my eyes to slits, I discovered why. I hadn’t hugged Jake. Instead, I had embraced an empty seat, passengers in the adjacent rows laughing at me.

  I let out an exasperated huff and leaned back, before fastening my seatbelt. Although those idiots were pointing at me, I decided to ignore them. Nothing good would come out of an argument with a bunch of strangers.

  Six hours and a lot of reminiscing later, my flight landed in LAX.

  Beams of sunlight pouring through my window, I recalled the business that brought me to Los Angeles. Straightaway, the painful memories were replaced by tension and fear of the unknown. It wasn’t the city that scared me. After all, the Chronicle was based in Beverly Hills, one of the richest parts of L.A. The crime rate was guaranteed to be low. I wasn’t running the risk of getting mugged or attacked in the street. It was the prospect of meeting with Julia Kessler. That woman had shown me two faces. The first wasn’t far from what the ideal editor should be like. She was very polite, somewhat friendly and generous. She considered me valuable to her newspaper, and was prepared to back her viewpoint with actions, like paying for a plane ticket. The second was cold, all business and full of impatience. She didn’t call me. What she did, was threaten me via email. So, who was I going to speak to? Could I hope that she would be reasonable? Or was my lack of communication so serious that she would scold me the minute I walked into her office?

  Beverly Hills did manage to remind me of Miami. It was a touch colder, but it was still much warmer than New York. The sun was shining in the sky. People were going about their daily business in jeans and t-shirts. Doing that in the Big Apple in early December would only get me frostbitten. Many of the roads were lined with palm trees, giving me the illusion of being somewhere exotic. That illusion was ruined by the sound of a car honking. Just like in every major city, traffic was very bad in certain places.

  Something else that struck me about that place, was the absence of insanely tall buildings. There were one or two high-r
ises like the Waldorf Astoria, but they were just ten to fourteen stories high. It was a welcome change from the massive structures in Manhattan, where most of the buildings made people feel like dwarves in a city of giants.

  The Beverly Hills Chronicle was housed in one of those small towers. Going into it, I got the same impression I used to get in the Bulletin. There was a sense of urgency in the air. Even in the lobby, employees were exiting the elevators in haste, checking their watches. A quick dash towards the exit, and those reporters were out chasing the next big story. I wasn’t surprised. This was the nature of our job.

  Finding myself in the penthouse was like visiting a whole different planet. I walked out of the elevator, expecting to hear a similar rumble, but I was in for a surprise. It was quiet. I could hear the sound of muffled chatter coming from somewhere, but I couldn’t see anybody. The red logo of the newspaper had been etched into the wall across from the elevator. Big glass and double doors to my left revealed a white, vacant space. I swung open one of them, causing it to open too fast and too far. Perhaps it was the adrenaline that was rushing through me that gave me this extra strength. To my right, I discovered the origin of the chatter. A middle-aged secretary was on the phone, taking notes.

  “Hello. I’m Penny Green. I’m here to see Mrs. Kessler,” I said to her, a smile of hesitation forming on my face.

  “Yes, she’s expecting you, Ms. Green.” She returned the smile. “You may enter.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, trotting off towards the door down the hall and to the left. “Help me out, Jake,” I whispered to myself and knocked.

  “Come in.”

  Julia’s office had to be the coldest workspace I had ever been in. It was a heaven of gray, with a few touches of white and beige. Her desk was made out of chrome, just like the two chairs in front of it. There was a Samurai sword over her executive chair, and a dragon lamp behind her computer monitor. Julia herself was standing between the chairs, her gaze on me.

  “You seem…”

  “Intimidated? Yeah,” I admitted, padding across the room. “I feel like I just walked into Jeff Bezos’s office.”

  “Good one,” Julia giggled. “You’re right. It is a rather cold place to be, but it serves its purpose. It discourages pesky reporters from asking for raises. So, how was your flight?”

  “Pretty good,” I murmured. “Um, pardon me for asking, but why did you just call reporters ‘pesky’?”

  “Because we are,” she said with a nod. “It’s our job, isn’t it? Anyway, don’t worry. You don’t fall into that category. You’ll be everybody’s boss, second only to me. Let’s go see your office,” she suggested, heading for the door.

  “About that, uh…” I faltered. “I still haven’t decided on your offer.”

  “What?” She smirked, halting just inches from my spot. “How come? What is it you don’t like? Your salary? The fact you’ll be working at one of the most prestigious media outlets in the State?”

  “Mrs. Kessler, have you ever been in love?” I asked, my voice breaking.

  “What the hell does that have to do with you working here?” She groaned, narrowing her eyes at me.

  “Trust me, it does.” I nodded. “So, have you?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because the man I loved is why I’m here talking to you,” I explained, my tone tightening. “If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t even know I existed. I lost him recently, and…”

  “I know about you and your pilot,” Julia interrupted. “He was quite the hero, but life goes on.”

  “No, it doesn’t. Not for me,” I disagreed and sucked in a deep breath. “I betrayed him, Mrs. Kessler. I ended our relationship when he told me that United Airlines was going to drag him to court. I broke up with him, because I wanted to work here. And if I accept your offer, this job will be tainted with my betrayal.”

  She held in a sneer, her brows shooting up. Within moments, the editor burst into loud, hearty laughter, bending towards me. She even put her hand on my shoulder to support herself and clutched her stomach.

  “Thank you, dear,” she chuckled. “God, I needed that.”

  “I’m not joking,” I remarked in a stiffer tone. “This is why I hadn’t reached out to you in all this time. It might seem unimportant to you, but…”

  “That is a major understatement, Green.” Julia emphasized, her face hardening all of a sudden. “It’s ridiculous. I’m offering you the chance to crawl out of the bucket. To take your career to a whole different level, and you’re hung up on a dead boyfriend? Wake up!” She cried, glaring at me. “Make a name for yourself while you can! Leave that miserable asswipe you call a ‘newspaper’ and take this job!”

  “Asswipe?” I squinted at her, anger starting to creep within. “The Brooklyn Bulletin has been my home for the past six years or so. It’s not been an easy ride, it’s not the best paying job in the world, but I like it there.”

  “Then stay there, you stupid bitch!” She yelled, her hazel eyes darkening with rage. “Stop wasting my time and get your sorry ass back to New York.”

  At that, she turned away from me and moved around her desk, while I struggled to maintain my composure. The beast who had sent me that second email had been unleashed. Apparently, it had just been waiting for the opportune moment to appear. God knew how much I wanted to slap her fat face. Pin her against the wall and scream at her, like she had done to me. Yet, an angry approach would not resolve anything. It would help me vent, yes, but the satisfaction would not last. Therefore, I decided to do something else.

  “Mrs. Kessler?” I spoke, tapping my heel on the floor.

  “Yes?” She took her eyes off the computer to look up at me.

  “Here’s what I think about you and the Beverly Hills Chronicle.” I lifted my hand and pointed the middle finger upward, keeping the other fingers folded down. I didn’t allow her to react in any way. I strolled out of that stone-cold office, a smile of satisfaction painted on my face. At last, I had an answer to the question that had been plaguing my mind for hours that day. Julia Kessler wasn’t the polite person who had called me at work. She was a stuck-up bitch who treated her staff as her subjects. And there was no way I would work for someone like that, no matter how well I would be compensated.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Penny

  A sense of anticipation was born within me the following morning.

  I was going home.

  I was getting back to my birthplace. My very own, very cold New York in December.

  Beverly Hills didn’t look so bad. The weather was great. Life seemed to be moving slower over there. Without a doubt, the level of stress wouldn’t be as high as it was in the Big Apple. Yet, Beverly Hills had one, big flaw, named Julia Kessler. That woman wasn’t anything like my current editor. She was strictly business, whereas Walter was much more than that. He was loud, sometimes he was borderline offensive, but he treated his staff with the necessary respect. Working with him hadn’t been a walk in the park. We had had our fair share of arguments. Yet, in six years, I had doubted his humanity just once, when he withheld the paper’s financial issues from us. Other than that, he was an understanding man. He would give me an extra day off, as long as I had a good reason. He would never call me or anyone else in the building “pesky.”

  For the first time since I’d lost Jake, I felt lighter. I wasn’t smiling or anything, but I didn’t have the same, grim expression on my face, either. Finally, aware of what my professional home would be, I crossed the halls of the Bulletin, greeting each and every one of my colleagues. Most of them were rather surprised to see me that afternoon. The news of my imminent departure to the West Coast had reached them long before that day. On my way to my office, my ears picked up a lot of chattering behind me. As it turned out, Ava was no exception. Noticing me through her window, she sprinted across her own office and joined me out in the hallway.

  “Hi. I thought you wouldn’t come back until tomorrow. Whe
n did you land?” She posed the question, her voice coming out faster than usual.

  “Two hours ago,” I addressed her in a relaxed tone. “I’m still carrying quite a lot of jetlag, but it’s nothing a good night’s sleep can’t handle.”

  “So, how did it go?” She uttered, anticipation dripping down her cheeks.

  “It didn’t.” I shook my head sideways. “I just couldn’t do it. I felt like I’d base my career on my betrayal to Jake. It did help that my future editor was an obnoxious bitch, but the main reason I didn’t go through with it, was what I did to Jake.”

  A gasp of surprise fled my friend’s lips. “You’re not kidding, are you?”

  “Ava, pay attention, please,” I requested, relaxing my posture. “I just told you that I couldn’t take that job because of my story with Jake. Twice. I also emphasized the fact that I’d be working under a stuck-up bitch. Sense the tone.”

  “I’ve never been more proud of you than I am right now,” she confessed, gazing into my eyes. “I know he’d be proud of you, too.”

  “Let’s refrain from having the same old conversation,” I suggested, unwilling to start talking about the events that had scarred my heart yet again. “Where’s Walter?”

  “Right here,” he interjected, striding towards us. “What are you doing here, Penny? You weren’t supposed to come back until tomorrow.”

  “I missed you guys,” I spoke in a cheerful tone. “I thought I should drop by and see how you’re all doing.”

  “You’ll be missing us a lot now that you’re moving to L.A.,” he stated, tightening his jaw.

  “Who said I’m moving to L.A.?” I shrugged my shoulders, glancing at Ava first and then at him.

  “You’re not?” He squinted, putting his hands on his hips. “Why? You didn’t like it over there?”

  “Let’s just say I’m very glad I didn’t quit my job here,” I suggested, not appreciating the idea of narrating what happened in the city of angels for the second time.

 

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