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Just One Night(11)

By:Lauren Layne


“What do you think we’re dealing with here? Do you think she’s going to have the

entire issue printed on gold-leaf paper? Or maybe every headline will contain the

word fifty. ‘The Fifty Best Beauty Products of All Time.’ ‘Fifty Things to Do Before

You’re Fifty.’ ‘Fifty Shoes That Will Never Go Out of Style’ …”

“ ‘Fifty Sexy Positions You’ve Never Heard Of,’ ” Riley supplied.

Grace paused. “Fifty? Really?”

Riley gave her a knowing glance. The one that said, I know things about sex that

mortals can’t even fathom. It was a look she’d perfected early on in her career at

Stiletto when she was trying to brand herself in a way that would make her

indispensable to the magazine.

She’d succeeded.

Riley hadn’t always been the “sex girl.” Once she’d simply been just another “go-

to” girl, filling in wherever needed. “Understanding SPF,” “Dealing with Catty

Coworkers,” “Mastering Hot Yoga” …

And then Robyn Kessler’s husband had gotten a job in Houston, and there was

a very crucial spot open in the Relationships department. By then Julie and Riley

had become fast friends, and since Julie worked the sex/love beat, Riley had

gotten first dibs on the vacant article slot: “Ten Things He’s Really Thinking in

Bed.”

It had been easier than she imagined.

Having two brothers close in age had given Riley easy access to a data pool, and

she’d supplemented her own network of men with flirty interviews with strangers

in bars.

She’d been a hit in more ways than one.

Whereas Robyn’s sex-related articles had been matter-of-fact and borderline

clinical, Riley had infused a candid woman-to-woman element that resonated with

readers. So she’d gotten another sex assignment. Then another.

And when everyone assumed her candor was the result of an unabashed sex life,

she sure as heck hadn’t corrected them.

In this case, the lie was a hell of a lot easier than the truth.

Within three months, Riley went from floater to a regular Love and Relationships

columnist along with Julie. Grace joined the department soon after, and within a

year, they’d not only become the golden girls of the magazine, they’d become the

It girls of the city.

Since then, Riley’s reputation as the “sexy” one of the group had expanded. Alas,

her actual experience had not.

Up until now, being a fraud hadn’t bothered her. Much. But something had been

shifting in recent months. Part of it was due to Julie and Grace having recently

laid themselves bare for the sake of a story—and for the sake of love.

But the other part was a bit more … physical. Riley’s sex drive seemed to be

shaking off the cobwebs of disuse. And it was demanding some attention now.

As if it wasn’t enough that her loins were betraying her, she was also starting to

feel guilty about the whole thing. Guilty about misleading her readers, certainly,

although she didn’t owe them anything other than good sex advice, and that’s

what they got.

But far worse, she was guilty of lying to her friends, and Riley was fresh out of

ways to justify that.

She jolted a little as everyone around her clapped, and she gave a polite little

clap of her own to hide the fact that she’d been daydreaming and had missed

most of Camille’s speech thus far.

Riley forced herself to tune in to her boss’s ramblings.

“… Now as I’m sure most of you know,” Camille continued, “the past year has

been an interesting one for Stiletto journalists. First, we had Julie Greene, whose

public declaration of falling in love with Mitchell made for our bestselling issue

ever …”

The crowd burst into delighted applause while Julie blushed prettily, and

Mitchell’s arm slid around her waist even though a part of him looked ready to

run. Riley joined in the clapping, letting out a whoop as Julie’s fingers found the

lapel of Mitchell’s suit and pulled him down for a smacking kiss.

Riley had had a front-row seat to Julie and Mitchell’s epic love story, and it never

failed to make her feel warm and mushy. Julie had rather famously set out to use

Mitchell for a story (Riley’s idea), just as Mitchell set out to use Julie to win a bet.

It could have been the makings of a trashy talk-show episode, but because they’d

been unexpectedly perfect for each other, it had skipped tawdry and gone straight

to sweet.

At the front of the room, Camille forged on, turning attention to her other celebrity

couple. “… and more recently, we’ve enjoyed the sheer spectacle that was Jake