by Noelle Adams
Once she got past the sexy rumble of Zach’s voice, she searched in vain for something to write about other than the exclusive content of the MovieMail commercial. Unfortunately, the screen in front of her matched her mind. Blank. An internet search of Zach’s full name netted her a few common facts and statistics, but nothing earth shattering that she could use in an article Natasha would expect to reveal something exclusive.
Leaning forward, she covered her face with her hands and squeezed her eyes shut. Natasha was waiting. More importantly, the ducks were waiting.
A quick glance revealed Natasha still in her office. She had to write fast so she could get back out to the poor little ducklings sitting in her car in the heat.
She thought about the commercial and about Zach’s request. He hadn’t stated outright why he didn’t want her to use the information only she was privy to, but it had seemed pretty important to him that she didn’t.
Ten minutes later, she had five hundred words and was feeling a bit more positive. She hadn’t even had to mention the grandfather clock. Then she reread from the beginning.
“Drivel.”
Sadie spun around to find her co-worker looking over her shoulder. They’d become friends since she’d started at the paper five months ago. Paige had showed her the ropes and helped out wherever she could. Sometimes that included brutal honesty.
“I know,” Sadie agreed.
“Natasha’s going to flip.”
“I know.” She groaned, leaning back in her chair in defeat. “The thing is, the one thing I can actually use, Za—the guy asked me not to print.”
Paige leaned closer again. “What do you mean?”
Sadie glanced around, but no one else seemed to be paying them any attention. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to actually reveal Zach’s secret. “There was something we talked about that he later requested I not use.”
“An exclusive?”
She nodded hesitantly.
Paige’s interested gaze shifted to the company issued recorder sitting on Sadie’s notepad. “Did he give you permission to record the conversation?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Then it’s on the record.”
“But—”
“No buts, Sadie. If he didn’t want it used, he should’ve asked you to turn off the recorder.”
She had a point, but Sadie wasn’t quite convinced that made it right. Zach could’ve had a legitimate personal reason for his request, one he clearly wasn’t comfortable revealing. Without knowing that reason, and thinking back on his insistence in his office, she wasn’t comfortable revealing her information on the commercial.
“I can’t. I’m just going to have to go through my notes again to see what I can come up with.” She spun her chair and faced the computer again.
“Suit yourself. I’m going to go grab a soda.”
Sadie did her best to incorporate the facts she’d found on the internet with her miniscule notes. She was still struggling five minutes later when it registered that a hush was spreading through the newsroom by degrees. Starting behind her and getting closer with each passing second.
There could be only one explanation for the sense of impending doom prickling up the back of her neck. Sadie glanced toward Paige, but she hadn’t returned to her desk yet.
She braced herself, and a moment later, Natasha spoke from behind her.
“Am I to understand you have a recording you’re hesitant to use?”
“Natasha, I…” Sadie spun her chair around to defend her decision, but she trailed off at the intimidating sight of the editor’s glare.
Darn it, what was I thinking? She should’ve taken Zach up on his offer to continue the interview over dinner. Maybe she could still call him and tell him she’d changed her mind. Begging wasn’t out of the question. What was a little more humiliation added on top of this?
“If you would just give me more time,” she implored Natasha. “I can get you the article you’re looking for. Mr. Robinson—”
“Ne-ver question my deadlines.”
The command was stated loud enough to be a warning not only for Sadie, but the entire room.
“And when you get an exclusive, you will damn well take advantage of it. This is a cutthroat business and I expect my reporters to do whatever is necessary to get the story. No excuses. No whining. No buts. Do you understand?”
In the silence, Paige stepped up behind Natasha, arms folded across her chest, a smile of triumph curving her lips. On the edges Sadie recognized gleeful malice and maybe a hint of jealously. Natasha’s information source became crystal clear and a flush of anger was sharpened by the sting of betrayal.
Suddenly, she understood like she never had before. God, she was an idiot. Lifting her chin, she ignored Paige and met the editor’s eyes without bothering to hide her resentment.
Natasha leaned forward to brace a hand on each arm of Sadie’s chair. “Do you like your job, Ms. Barton?”
She liked her paycheck. She needed her paycheck. “Yes.”
“Then you’ll write the article.”
“But I—”
The editor leaned closer still, making her press back in the chair.
“Write the article, or find yourself a new employer.”
Nine
The last three interviews on Thursday had been too long, predictable, and downright boring. Zach suffered through them with the good ol’ Robinson charm that had completely failed to impress one Sadie Barton. Attempts to forget about her proved futile as she teased his thoughts through two afternoon conference calls, a pile of headache-inducing paperwork, and a last-minute dinner with his brother who’d flown down from San Francisco.
At first, he managed to concentrate solely on his brother, ready to lend whatever support he needed. But it turned out Matt wasn’t as broken-hearted over his fiancé’s betrayal as Zach had expected. He even surprised Zach by revealing he’d been considering ending the engagement himself. A little late, but good for Matt. Unfortunately, relief over his brother’s resolute acceptance gave way for his own thoughts to intrude, and they kept returning to one specific golden-haired subject.
“Are you even listening to me?” Matt complained as Zach finished his meal.
With a twinge of guilt, he tore his gaze away from the chocolate cake being delivered to the table next to them. His brother watched him, his dark eyebrows drawn together in an accusatory frown.
“Of course I’m listening.”
Brown eyes narrowed in challenge. “Oh yeah? Then what’d I say?”
Zach pushed his plate away, wiped his mouth with the linen napkin, and tossed it on the table. “Since Melissa’s arrest and confession this morning, you’re determined to move on.”
Matt rested his forearms on the table, fork and knife held above his plate, clearly waiting for more.
“You refuse to let her take over every waking thought…” A small smile tugged the corners of his brother’s mouth upward and Zach continued more forcefully. “Her rejection is not going to get you down.” Finished speaking, he sat back in his chair and cocked an I-told-you-I-was-listening eyebrow at the smug know-it-all.
Matt mirrored Zach’s earlier movements to indicate he was also finished with his meal, then leaned forward on the table, arms crossed. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Carry on an entire conversation on auto-pilot.”
Guilt deepened over his mental distraction. “What do you mean?”
Matt waited until after the waiter cleared their plates and discreetly slid the bill onto the table between the two of them. “You’re somewhat right about Melissa, but I stopped talking about her thirty minutes ago. Since then, we’ve discussed San Fran opening on schedule, the updated computer system here, the Truner acquisition, and Dad’s fiftieth birthday party.”
Zach squinted at him, wracking his brain for filed details as he reached for the check. “We did not talk about Dad’s party.”
His brother sat back
with a laugh. “See, that’s what I mean. Even on auto-pilot you passed the test.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry, Matt, I know you’re going through a lot of crap right now. All I can say is it’s been a strange couple days on my end, and I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
A lot of curls, and kissing, and wishing that won’t amount to a damn thing.
“What’s her name?”
His gaze snapped up. “What?”
“I said you were somewhat right about Melissa, but you weren’t speaking my words a few minutes ago. So who is she?”
Nope. Not going there. Zach added a few bills from his wallet inside the padded check holder and pocketed the receipt. “No one.”
Disbelief colored his brother’s expression. “Come on, Zach, it’s me.”
“Seriously, I’ve already forgotten about her.”
He walked out to his silver Mustang convertible, determined to make the statement true.
****
His efforts met with very limited success for the rest of the evening, and completely failed the next morning at eight a.m. when Kris stormed into his office before he’d even made it to his chair.
“What in the world did you say to her? I’ve already fielded over twenty calls from worried employees.”
Zach shifted his gaze from the fast-blinking message light on his phone to the headline gracing the front page of the morning edition of Life’s a Beach and Then Sun Times Kris had just tossed on his desk.
END CREDITS FOR MOVIEMAIL?
Without a word to his fired-up assistant, he leaned over his chair and picked up the paper. Anger mounted as he skimmed the article.
Damn her. Sadie had spun one hell of an angle, even after he’d pointed out appearing in his own commercial had nothing to do with saving money. In fact, she used the fact that he’d openly avoided answering her questions to back up her speculation that the company was in financial trouble.
Worse, she’d used the information he’d told her about Matt’s fiancé and managed to dig up Melissa’s arrest report to lend credence to her bogus claims. Now everyone knew his little brother had been taken by the gold-digging bitch.
“I asked her not to print anything about the commercial,” he muttered just as his brother strode into the office, newspaper in hand.
His one relief was the confirmation that she didn’t know anything about the Truner negotiations. If she had any information on that deal, what she’d already written proved she’d have had no reservations about printing more.
Kris rolled her eyes at Zach. “You’re naïve if you truly expected a reporter to ignore an exclusive—no matter how cute you think she is.”
His glare convinced her to leave without further comment. Most days they were more friends than employee/employer, but she wisely recognized she’d pushed too far past the flexible personal line.
Matt took a seat in the same chair Sadie had sat in yesterday and held up the folded newspaper in his hand. “This her?”
There was no use denying it, especially after Kris’s last remark. “Yeah.”
“What’d you do to piss her off so bad?”
“Nothing.”
“Have you read this?” Matt asked, dark eyebrows raised in disbelief.
“Obviously, when she didn’t find the story she was looking for, she decided to fabricate one instead.” He dropped into his chair, defeat tugging at his shoulders. So much for hoping she was different, that he’d mean more than either his money or her career. “I’m sorry I mentioned Melissa to her.”
Matt shrugged. “It was bound to come out sooner rather than later.”
“Still, it won’t be good if Truner sees this.” He nodded toward the newspaper.
“A little local publication like this will never make it to North Carolina.”
“The internet reaches all over, Matt.”
“I know. But we can still hope it doesn’t,” he replied, standing when Zach’s direct line rang. “It’s going to be a long day.”
Didn’t he know it. Ignoring the phone, he leaned back in his chair. “When’s your flight?”
Matt paused at the door. “Greg’s got everything under control up in San Fran, so I decided to stay until next weekend. I can help with damage control if you want me to, and then I’ll head back on the Sunday after Dad’s party.”
“I appreciate that, thanks.”
Alone in the office, a second read through of the article only fueled Zach’s simmering resentment. How the hell was the skewed opinion article supposed to pass for unbiased reporting? Most of what she’d written was based on conjecture due to the fact that he’d been in the commercial. The few hard facts that were included he hadn’t given her, but they were easily attainable on the internet. Only she’d twisted them around in a misleading fashion to support her ridiculous theory.
He wasn’t as naive as Kris thought, he’d expected Sadie to use what she had, he just hadn’t expected her to take the tabloid sensationalism route. Clearly, she’d decided she didn’t like him, but that was no reason to cast such malicious doubt on the company he’d built from the ground up with sheer guts and determination. No matter what happened with Truner, they were going to be fine.
Unlike her.
How much had she been paid to sell her soul? She’d said they needed the money and that this was her chance to prove herself…well, he sure as hell hoped it was worth it. Because starting a career like this meant she had only one place to go. And after splashing Matt’s personal issues all over the front page of their trashy little paper, he was going to help her get there.
He flipped back to the top of the article. End credits were going to roll for someone all right.
Paige Kinney.
The name jumped out at him from the by-line. What? Not only did she write a totally bogus piece, but then she didn’t even have the guts to put her name on it? The newspaper crumpled in his clenched fist.
Throughout the morning, the infuriating little coward occupied his thoughts while he and Matt talked to the other executives and crafted a company memo to reassure the rest of the staff their jobs were not in jeopardy. Harried customer service representatives reported an increase in calls from concerned customers in the L.A. area who’d read the article. To compensate for their crazy morning, he ordered lunch brought in for the entire building, spent another hour putting his employees at ease, and then left Matt in charge while Kris cleared his schedule for the afternoon.
Forty-five minutes later, he shoved through the front doors of Life’s a Beach and Then Sun Times. The young receptionist looked up with a generic smile that froze when he flattened his palms on her desk.
“Where can I find Sadie Barton?”
“Um…”
She glanced frantically to the right and Zach followed her gaze toward a hallway with glassed-in offices lining both sides. As he straightened and scanned the rooms for a head of blond curls, the woman in front of him asked, “May I ask what this is about?”
As if she couldn’t guess. He sliced his gaze back to her, taking in her two-toned red and black hair. “No.”
After another anxious look toward the offices, she asked, “Your name, please?”
Granted, he was dressed in jeans and a black, button-down shirt for casual Friday, but he knew damn well he was recognizable from the corporate picture that’d graced their front page right along with the damning headline.
“You don’t read your own paper?”
“Of course, I just…” She trailed off, clearly flustered. Then she reached a hand to press a button on her phone. “I’m sorry to bother you, but Mr. Robinson from MovieMail is here.”
A long pause was followed by a crisp order. “Send him in.”
Zach was sure that hadn’t been Sadie’s voice. The receptionist offered a weak smile and pointed toward the offices.
“Ms. Lenko will see you now. She’s at the end of the hall, last office on the left.”
He strode down the corridor, determined to see Sadie no matter h
ow many road blocks they put in his way. Upon reading Natasha Lenko, Editor-in-chief stenciled on the glass door, he decided this office wasn’t a bad detour after all. He could chew her out for printing unsubstantiated half-truths and conjecture.
The woman rose as he entered, offering a smile that he noted did nothing to warm her dark eyes one bit. A short, severe haircut, glasses, and buttoned up power suit gave the impression of a hard veneer that only slightly altered the cliché in his mind of what a newspaper editor would look like.
She extended a manicured hand and did her best to crush his fingers. “To what do we owe the pleasure, Mr. Robinson?”
He released her hand and allowed a slow smile to convey that while she may be old enough to be his mother, he was not intimidated. “I see no reason to bullshit each other Ms. Lenko. My arrival should not be a surprise, unless you were expecting to hear from my lawyers instead?”
Her thin eyebrows rose above her designer frames. “You did grant the interview, did you not?”
Annoyance got the better of him. “An interview, yes. Permission for your reporter to skew the facts and print lies? No.”
“We printed no lies.”
“Just highly suggestive conjecture and misconstrued quotes,” he accused.
“I heard the tape myself. Clearly, you were avoiding the questions. I stand behind my reporter.”
“I would argue you stand in front of her. Where is she?”
“Paige is out on assignment right now.”
Zach’s fingers tightened at his sides. “You know damn well I’m talking about Sadie Barton.”
Natasha Lenko cast a cool glance at his clenched fists. “Even if Ms. Barton still worked for this paper, I wouldn’t let you anywhere near the girl.”
“If she still worked for you?”
“We only employ real reporters at this paper,” the woman informed him as if she was the Queen of England and didn’t run a two-bit newspaper with insignificant circulation.