I breathe it in with a pang of
longing. This is where I belong.
Ever
since I was a kid, I’ve dreamed of being a reporter. I used to
write up hand-made newsletters about my family and our neighborhood,
carefully writing stories about everything from Mrs. Kelington’s
missing parakeet, to my older sister’s hot date. By the time I
got to college, my ambitions were set. I worked my butt off to gain a
spot on our prestigious student newspaper, and spent long nights in
the newsroom writing articles and building a portfolio in the hopes
of one day making my career at a place like this.
I
came so close. Granger was willing to give me a break and hire me if
I delivered him a big story, and my undercover investigation at the
club ticked all the right boxes: sex, secrets, possible corruption. I
was on track to win everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve.
And
now, the party’s over. Not to mention the face I’ll be
losing when all my college friends and my smug ex-boyfriend find out
that the story I told them was already in the bag never even runs in
the paper.
I walk the hallway with a heavy
heart, stopping outside his office. I knock.
“Come on in.”
I
push open the door. Granger is meeting with a couple of junior
reporters, surrounded by files and paperwork.
“I’m
sorry,” I say, awkward. “I can wait--”
“No,
we’re just finishing up here.” Granger beckons me in. He
turns back to the rookies. “Make sure you get those quotes
double-checked, and have the copy filed by nine. OK?”
“Got
it!” They close their notebooks and get up, shooting me curious
looks.
Granger
smiles. “This is Zoe, she’s working a freelance piece for
us. Zoe, these are a couple of my best junior reporters. They started
out just like you, and now they’re a permanent part of my
staff.”
“Hi,”
I smile, actually a little awestruck.
“Hey.”
The pair smiles in return. “Good luck with your story.”
They
file out. Granger hunts through his desk for something. “So sit
down, tell me how it’s going.”
“Well...” I perch on
the edge of a seat. “The truth is, I’ve hit a roadblock.
I don’t think I can keep working on the story.”
“What?”
Granger turns to me, looking surprised. “But it was going so
well. I’ve been looking over your notes. There’s a ton of
great stuff already, excellent background color.”
“I
know.” I feel a pang of regret. Even though I’m guilty
about misleading Dax, I’m still proud of the work I’ve
put in. “But my cover’s blown at the club. The owner
found out my real name, and now he knows I’ve been working on a
story.”
“Shit.”
Granger sits down with a thump. He frowns, thinking hard.
“I’m
sorry,” I say. “It’s my fault, I should have been
more careful. I was getting close to some good stuff too,” I
add. “Just the other night I saw a politician in there, a guy
from the city council, I think. That’s what you told me to look
out for, right? Ways someone might be exerting influence, or making
themselves vulnerable to corruption.”
“City
council?” Granger’s expression suddenly changes. He gives
me a sympathetic look. “Look, don’t beat yourself up. It
happens to the best of us. To tell the truth, I’m impressed you
lasted this long. It shows you’ve got the instinct for this.”
Some instincts. They got fried
the minute Dax gave me one of his sexy looks, and suddenly, my story
was the last thing on my mind.
“I’m sorry I wasted
your time,” I apologize, feeling even more terrible. “I
really appreciate that you gave me the break. I hate that I let you
down.”
“Hey,
hey, no need to talk like that.” Granger frowns. “You’re
not going to quit on me now, are you? Politicians behaving badly are
always hot news.”
I
blink. “But...I told you. My cover’s blown. The owner
won’t let me back in there. And even if he does, the
non-disclosures mean I wouldn’t be able to report on
anything--”
“You
let our lawyers worry about that,” Granger cuts me off. “Public
interest trumps all. And just because you can’t work the story
from the inside, it doesn’t mean you should give up. A good
reporter works all the angles,” he reminds me. “I’m
sure you’ve picked up enough information to be able to find
another way. What else did you learn about this politician?” he
asks, sitting back.
“Nothing
yet, I only thought I recognized him. But Dax -- the owner -- he’s
being blackmailed.” I say slowly. “Someone’s been
sending him threatening notes.”
“Good,
good.” Granger scribbles some notes. “Personal, or
business, you think?”
“Business,”
I answer, thinking fast. “He wouldn’t be sweating
something personal, but the club means everything to him.”
“So
there you go.” He nods. “You can start there, with his
business contacts and history. Look for links with this politician,
too. Research may not be as glamorous as undercover work,” he
adds with a grin. “But it’s where you’ll find the
meat of your story. Good work.”
“So…you
want me to keep working it?” I ask, still not certain I’m
understanding. I thought for sure he’d show me the door.
“Keep
digging,” Granger confirms. “Maybe you can find another
source on the inside to talk.”
I doubt it. Dax probably has
everyone hooked up to a lie detector test by now, but I don’t
want to push my second chance.
“Thank
you,” I say, getting up. “I really appreciate it. And
I’ll find a way to crack this story, no matter what.”
“Hey,
anytime.” Granger gives me a friendly nod. “Listen, I
remember what it’s like trying to get a foot in the door, but I
can tell you’re ambitious and determined, almost too much for
your own good—just like I was. I’m always here, if you
need to run anything by me. Advice, direction, whatever you need.”
I’m
touched. “I’ll get right back on it,” I say. “And
I’ll let you know as soon as I find anything.”
“You
do that.” Granger shows me to the door. “And keep your
focus. A story like this could define your whole career.”
His words echo as I exit the
building. My whole career.
I’m
torn. On the one hand, I feel terrible for lying to Dax, but I can’t
ignore what Granger said. He’s put his faith in me, he thinks
this is a legitimate story -- so how can I just walk away?
Besides, it’s not like I
was having a relationship with Dax. He pursued me. He seduced me. And
yes, I pretended to be someone I’m not, but he’s keeping
secrets too. The notes, his past. He’s no saint here, and he
didn’t even give me a chance to explain.
My choice isn’t easy. Drop
the story and kill my chance at the newspaper, or keep working it
from the outside, and risk angering Dax even more.
Except, he’s already mad at
me. I’ve got nothing left to lose.
So what do I do now?
DAX
By
the time I get to the club that afternoon, I’m in a foul mood.
Zoe’s betrayal still weighs heavily on my shoulders, and I
can’t shake the feeling she played me for an utter fool.
My manager, Dominique, greets me
by the door. “We’ll need to go over payroll,” she
says briskly, accompanying me into the lounge. “And staff
turnover has been too high this past month, we need to talk about
that.”
“Give me a damn minute to
take off my coat, why don’t you?” I growl.
She
arches an eyebrow. “Someone got up on the wrong side of bed
this morning.”
“My
bedroom has nothing to do with it,” I snap back.
Besides,
Zoe and I barely even made it to the couch.
Dominique gives me a look, like
she doesn’t have time for my bullshit. “Well, when you’ve
removed the stick currently shoved up your derriere, come find me.
There’s work to be done.”
She
turns to leave, but after Zoe’s sass I’m not going to
tolerate her attitude. Isn’t there
someone
in this place who’ll show me some respect?
“Hey!” I bark. “Don’t
give me that tone. Have you forgotten who’s boss here?”
“Not at all,”
Dominique replies, icy. “But clearly you’ve forgotten
that I’m your manager, not some serving wench you can boss
around as you see fit. When you come back down off your high horse,
I’ll be figuring out the schedule.”
She
stalks away. Damn. I feel a flash of remorse. She’s right, I am
in a shitty mood, but that’s no excuse for taking it out on
her.
She’s not the one who’s
screwed me over.
I sigh, then go after her.
“Dominique, wait,” I catch her in the hallway. “I’m
sorry, OK?” I say gruffly.
She looks surprised by the
apology.
“No problem.” She
nods. One of the things I like about her is she doesn’t sulk,
she just moves right on. “Like I said, we’ve got a lot to
do. The waiting list needs another look. Oh, and the security guys
are already here. They’re setting up in the Onyx suite, I
think.”
“Wait, what security guys?”
I frown.
Dominique
looks confused. “The ones you ordered to install the cameras. A
little heads up would have been nice,” she adds. “But
since you were late, I had to let them in.”
Cameras?
What the fuck?
I turn and stride down the
hallway, throwing open the door to one of the private suites. There
are two guys in work clothes installing cameras in the air vents over
the bed.
“What the hell’s
going on?” I demand loudly.
One of the guys pauses, up on a
step-ladder. “You the boss man? We’re nearly done here,
just a couple more rooms to go.”
Dominique appears in the doorway
behind me. “What’s wrong?” she asks.
“They’ve been wiring
every room?” I ask.
She nods. “Additional
security. It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”
Not even close.
“Goddammit!” I curse,
furious something managed to slip through the net like this. This
place is supposed to be secure, and these guys have been running
around doing God knows what. “Why the hell didn’t someone
call me?”
“I
thought this was something you and Griffin ordered? Your name was on
the job requisition.” Now Dominique’s looking worried,
and Dominique never looks worried. Fuck.
I turn back to the workmen. “You
two, get down from there. Don’t make another fucking move.”
“Dax?”
Dominique says. “What do you want us to—”
“Get
Griffin, go room to room. Sweep everything for cameras and mics.”
I demand. “Check twice, I don’t care how long it takes.
God knows what they’ve planted by now.”
Dominique’s face goes pale
as she realizes the extent of the security breach.
“Shit,
Dax. I checked out all the paperwork before they came in here,”
she apologizes. “It had your name on it, it even looked like
your signature.”
“Never
mind that, just get started on the clean-up. I’m gonna find out
who did this.” I dismiss her, before turning back to the
workmen.
They’re looking shifty as
hell now, glancing around for an escape. I pick the younger guy, he
looks barely out of his teens. “You.” I beckon.
He gulps.
“Call your boss right now,”
I order him. “Tell him that you’re not leaving here until
he comes to collect you in person.”
“Wait a minute, you can’t
do that--” the older guy starts, making for the door.
I block his path. “Watch
me.”
I
leave the room and slam the door behind me, turning the master key in
the lock and trapping them inside. I figure on them lasting a while
before admitting defeat, but it’s barely twenty minutes before
Nikolai shows up at the front entrance with his usual entourage.
He doesn’t even have the
decency to look ashamed, he just gives me that same knowing smile he
would flash fifteen years ago, back when I was a kid running errands
for him. He was the biggest deal in our neighborhood, like a father
to me for a while, but times change.
Now, he wants a piece of my club,
and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him have it.
“Hidden
cameras?” I spit, tossing one of the duffel bags outside at his
feet. After scouring every room in the club, Griffin and Dominique
found enough wires to put the CIA to shame. “This shit is
underhanded, even for you.”
Nikolai
doesn’t even try to deny it. He shrugs, dressed in one of his
impeccable suits, like the dirt he dishes out never touches him. “You
didn’t leave me much choice, son.”
I
flinch to hear him call me ‘son.’ Once, I idolized the
man. I thought I’d follow in his footsteps and take my own
place in his empire. That was before I realized just how rotten that
world was, violent and brutal to the core.
I
walked away. I thought I’d left it all behind me, and built an
empire of my own -- on my terms. But I forgot, Nikolai never forgets.
“What the fuck do you want
from me?” I demand, finally done with skirting around the
question. First, his mysterious visit, then his not-so-cloaked
threats. Now this. I’m not going to take it anymore. “Is
it dirt on my members? Blackmail? Bribes?”
“Not
everyone, just one.” Nikolai finally gives me a straight
answer. “Andrew Landsley.”
I
recognize the name. But I don’t confirm his membership. “The
politician? What do you want with him?” I ask, giving nothing
away.
“Let’s
just say, I have some business interests coming before his
committee.” Nikolai gives me a shark’s grin. “And I
could use some guarantees he’ll swing the panel in my favor.”
Money. Power. It’s always
the same with him.
Determination
settles through me like ice. “I promise my members privacy,”
I tell him. “What they do in these walls is private. So if he
is
a member here, and that’s a big
if
,
he’d be under my protection.”
Nikolai
brushes an invisible piece of lint off his sleeve, unconcerned, and
doesn’t even bat an eye at my refusal. “Everything’s
got a price, son,” he counters. “You should have just
left the cameras up. Your hands would have stayed squeaky clean.”