"Morning, Harper!"
Samantha's voice hits me like a bucket of sunshine as she rounds the corner and drops her oversized tote onto the desk opposite mine. She's wearing a gorgeous yellow sundress that totally belongs on a beach in Malibu, not the twelfth floor of an online newspaper company in downtown LA.
"Morning." I smile, minimizing Ace's file with a click.
"Hudson's in a mood," she says, leaning in and lowering her voice. "Way worse than usual. He was on the phone when I walked past, and I swear the vein in his forehead was about to pop."
I roll my eyes. "When isn't he in a mood?"
She glances over her shoulder toward his glass-walled office. Even from here, I can see him pacing behind his desk, jaw tight, phone pressed to his ear. Samantha is editor in chief material. She’s got it in her. Hudson just won’t give her the opportunity.
"It's a tragedy, really," she sighs, turning back to me. "That face. That jaw. Those shoulders. All wasted on a man with the emotional depth of a parking meter."
I bite back a laugh. She's not wrong. Hudson Blake is the kind of man who makes women walk into walls. Tall, dark hair, green eyes that could cut glass. And rich. Therich, richkind that comes with a corner office, a company with his family name on the building, and the unshakeable belief that the world was built specifically for his convenience.
"One man can't have everything," I say, leaning back in my chair.
"Did you finish the Red Creek piece?" she asks.
I nod, reaching for my coffee. It's cold. It's always cold by the time I remember to drink it. "Yeah. Wrapped it up last night."
"And? Anything juicy?"
I take a slow sip and shake my head. "Dead end. Literally and figuratively. Ashley Edwards was an alcoholic in a bad neighborhood, and everyone's moved on. The guy they liked for it got cleared, and the department basically shrugged and filed it away. Cold case overnight. It's honestly kind of sad."
The lie comes out smooth as silk. I've gotten good at that. At being an imposter. When my parents ask how LA is, if I’m living my best life, I lie, and I say yes.
I thought this job would be meaningful. I could dig into the lies of the world and report the truth. That is not the reality. It’s dull. No matter how much I lie to myself, the Harper I am in LA isn’t the girl I want to be.
But at least now, this job, this move, leaving Ace, it all has a purpose. To protect him.
"Oh." Samantha's face falls. "But you were so excited about that one. You said it had legs."
"It had legs. Turns out they were both broken." I shrug, tossing her a grin I don't quite feel. "Story of my life. The big one's coming, though. I can feel it."
“Did you at least get to visit your friends back home? You lived in the town next door, right?”
“Yep.” Another lie.
I stumbled on Hunter’s new wife in a bar and struck up a friendship with her. She’s full of fire and just what that family needs. Other than that, I kept my head down for the two weeks I was there, because I was petrified I’d bump into Ace.
She opens her mouth to respond, but the sharp crack of Hudson's office door slamming open cuts through the bullpen.
Every head turns. Every keyboard goes quiet.
His eyes sweep the room and land on me. My heart races because I know I’m in the firing line. I know the report I sent him was shit. A little part of me is proud, I wanted it to be bad.
"Harper." He pauses. The silence stretches just long enough to make my stomach clench. "My office. Please."
I stand, tugging my dress straight, and follow the click of my own heels across the marble floor. The walk to his office is maybe thirty feet, but with every pair of eyes tracking me, it might as well be a mile.
I close the door behind me. He pulls out the chair opposite his desk.
"Sit." He barks.
I do as I’m told and keep my mouth shut, chewing on the inside of my cheek.
He settles into his chair across from me, leaning back. His green eyes lock onto mine and hold. Samantha is right, he’s totally hot. But that means nothing when a man is a complete tool.
