“So, you’re a writer?” Liv’s a writer too.
“Yep, I’m actually an intern right now. I’m competing for a full writer position. It’s down to two of us, so I’m hoping I get something juicy from you to help put me over the top.” She emphasizes the word juicy and almost purrs at me. Oh, I’ll give you something juicy alright. At least I won’t have to work too hard for this one. I think she’s almost as ready as I am. Maybe more so. But that’s okay, even though I usually like to hunt for my dinner, sometimes it’s nice to just call in for delivery too.
We sit and skinny Summer takes her pad out of some expensive designer bag that probably cost more than my last car. She smiles at me with perfectly straight white teeth that I’m sure cost her old man a fortune.
“So, Mr. Stone. Tell me about yourself. Were you born and raised in Chicago?”
“Yep, been here all my life. Went to South Shore Elementary and High School.”
She jots down some notes on her pad. “Oh, that’s where the other reporter is from. I’m surprised you two didn’t know each other.”
“What other reporter?”
“Olivia Michaels. The reporter who had this story originally.”
Fuck. Me. Liv did say she was at the gym doing research. Guess she failed to mention that her research was me. “What happened to the other reporter?”
“I’m not really sure, but she gave up the assignment.” Summer smiles at me like she’s ready to eat me. “But I’m glad she gave it up. I can’t wait to get to the juicy part.”
I should be thanking the gods for what they delivered to me. Yet instead, I’m fucking pissed. Really pissed.
Chapter 9
Liv
Sleezeball calls us both into his office. I say good morning to Summer and she doesn’t even look my way. She’s in a worse mood than usual. Daddy must have cut her allowance.
“So ladies.” Sleezeball comes around and sits on the corner of his desk, his arms folded over his chest. “Looks like we have a problem.”
Summer folds her arms across her chest and raises her chin. Looks like the problem must belong to the princess. I try not to smile as I speak. “What’s the problem and how can we help, James?” I’m such a brown noser, but I don’t even care. Six more weeks. I can finally see a light at the end of the tunnel and I’m not above a little ass-kissing to make sure I’m the one that makes it there first.
“Well it seems Mr. Stone has refused an interview with Summer.” I look to Summer for an explanation, but she snubs me. My face turns back to Sleezeball, waiting for more information.
“He’ll only give his story to you, Olivia.” Sleezeball shrugs his shoulders. “So you’re back on the story, Liv.” He sighs loudly. “I’m not even sure why this guy’s story is so important, but my boss wants it. And since Mr. Stone has decided he wants you, that’s what he’ll get. You.”
My mouth is still hanging open when he dismisses us. I almost make it out before Sleezeball speaks again. “Olivia, stay for a minute. Summer, close the door on the way out.” Really, could my day get any worse?
“Listen, I know you asked to be let off this story for personal reasons. However, it seems we don’t have a choice here anymore. So, take this assignment as a learning experience. Whatever you and Mr. Stone have going on, exploit it and get me a good story.”
Total sleezeball.
Summer is still stamping around our shared workstation when I get back to my desk. I’m guessing being rejected is new to the little princess. Although I’m pissed as hell at Vinny for interfering with my work, I have to admit, seeing her knocked off her high horse does have its perks.
“I don’t know what game you’re playing Olivia, but making me look bad in front of James is going to cost you.” Her face distorted in anger, she doesn’t look quite so attractive. “I’m not just going to win this job, I’m going to wipe the floor with that ratty little head of yours.”
I can’t help but laugh at her threat. Who knew the princess had it in her? Game on.
I leave the office and head straight to the gym I know Vinny works out at. I have no idea if he’ll be there this time, but he’s getting a piece of my mind if he is. Instead of a few hours calming my initial anger, it’s made it worse. Worse to the point that I’ve gone from a light simmer to a full-blown boil and the top is about to come flying off the pot…and hit someone in the head.
How dare Vinny screw with my work? Who does he think he is? I’ve worked too damn hard to get where I am to let some old crush interfere with where I need to be. He wants to play games, he’s going to find out I’m not the same little girl he thinks I am. I’ve grown up since he broke my heart in high school. A lot.