Page 8 of The Golden Scoop

I should take that as a compliment, but it grates against every nerve. She knows I’m more than capable of writing something—anything—other than The Scoop, and yet, she won’t promote me. She never considers me for other assignments… unless it suits her own agenda.

“You know what? Fine. You’re the boss, after all,” I say, letting the attitude drip.

So what if I’m stuck with Matt for a couple of days? This would be the feature of the year. Fans are obsessed with him, producers are fighting to hire him, and every single glitter-covered bachelorette in L.A. is lurking to get a piece of the cake. If we land something fresh, something no one else has, it launches the magazine. There’s no way Martha would ever let this slip.

“But if I do this, and it goes well, I’m not going back to gossip. I want to write about things that matter.”

“That’s not possible. I don’t have anyone else to cover that section. And it’s one of our strongest performers.”

She’s bluffing. There are plenty of people here who could take over. Sure, it’d take them a bit to build the right contact list, but it’s not hard if you actually try.

“Then I’m sorry, Martha, but you can count me out.” I stand up and push my shoulders back. “My contract states I write my column and my column only. I’m not obliged in any way to take on this article. I’ll stick to what I was hired for.”

I exhale. This could go brilliantly… or end with me packing my things in a cardboard box. Stay cool. I turn around swiftly and head toward the door. I’m one step away when her voice cuts through the room.

“Okay, okay,” she snaps. “If this goes well, I can move Rachel to the gossip column—if you agree to help her transition.”

“I can do that,” I say, biting back the grin tugging at my mouth. “And I’m assuming this promotion comes with its respective raise?”

“Ten percent. Starting next month.” Martha looks pained.

She could do better, but I’m not about to overplay my hand.

“We have a deal.”

Using Matt as a stepping stone in my career? Honestly, shouldn’t be too hard.

“I’ll confirm the details and send them over by tonight. Expect to start tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it,” I tell her. “The sooner I start, the sooner I’m done.”

As I step out, I spot Kate by the printer, copying the same blank sheet repeatedly while sneaking glances in our direction. The glass door closes behind me, and I’m immediately engulfed in curly brown hair and the scent of coconut body cream.

“Well? What happened?” Kate demands, waving her freshly printed folder of nothing.

“She wants me to do an article about Matt.”

Her face scrunches up. “Ouch. I’m sorry. I know how much you hate him.”

“I do,” I admit, “except when it gets me the promotion I’ve wanted since… forever.”

Her hazel eyes go comically wide. “No way.”

“Yes way.” I finally let my smile break through. “I told her I wouldn’t write anything outside The Scoop unless it came with a permanent position.”

“And she agreed?” Kate looks genuinely stunned.

“Of course she did. She might be our personal nightmare, but she’s damn good at her job. Anyway, if all it takes is a couple of days with Matt to finally get what I want? Sign me up.”

A new folder named ‘MATT HUNT’ sits in the middle of my desktop screen. There isn’t much inside yet: some paparazzi shots and a couple of clippings from old articles. Somehow, I never imagined he’d be one of my targets.

Maybe it’s how my parents raised me, but I’ve always had an itch for the truth. That’s probably why The Golden Scoop took off the way it did. Still, this is the first time I’ve ever been assigned to someone who feels too close for comfort. And now I’m wondering if agreeing to this was a brilliant career move or the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.

Digging for someone’s ugly truths is always risky. You have to be ready for whatever you might uncover. Sometimes it comes with the guilt of watching the mess unfold, and other times it’s the pleasure of causing the fallout of a bad person. As much as I want this promotion, there is no universe in which I’d blow up my relationship with Julia and Harrison over it.

They left for their honeymoon last night: two full weeks of all-inclusive bliss along the Riviera Maya. Right about now, they’re probably sipping some fruity cocktail at sunset, preparing for a disgustingly romantic candlelit dinner on the shores of the Caribbean Sea.

I don’t want to cause a full interruption, so I settle for a text. Better safe than sorry with this article.