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“Then call him up. Ask him for a tour of his business. Tell him you’re writing a story about Bijoux since they’re new to the area and set to become a major power player in Southern California. Men like that enjoy having their egos stroked.”
“You want me to lie to him?” Was it possible for her to feel any sicker about this whole situation?
Malcolm glared at her sternly. “You’re an investigative reporter, Maddox. You use whatever contacts you have to find out the truth. That’s the way the job works.”
“I know that, sir. It’s just that—”
“Just what? I gave you this story because I figur
ed you already had an in with Nic Durand. Was I wrong about that? Should I give the story to someone else?”
He looked far from pleased at the prospect, and she knew if she followed her gut, if she told him yes he should give the story to someone else, he would do just that. And it would be a cold day in hell before she ever got another chance. She’d be writing obituaries and party gossip for as long as she worked for the Los Angeles Times. And maybe even longer.
“No, of course not,” she told him, putting every ounce of conviction she could muster into her voice. Which wasn’t much, if she was being honest, but at this point she would take what she could get.
“You don’t sound too sure about that.”
“I am sure. I’ve got this.”
Malcolm finally nodded, satisfied. “Well, go get them, then. And don’t forget to ask for help if you need it.”
“I won’t,” she told him before making her way out of his office and back to her desk. As she did, her stomach pitched and rolled at the thought of the mess she had gotten herself into.
What was she supposed to do?
Then again, what could she do?
The questions echoed in her mind like a particularly terrifying mantra. But no matter how many times she asked them, no matter how many scenarios she ran through, she couldn’t find a solution. She was going to have to investigate Nic Durand. And if he was guilty of what he was accused of…if he was guilty, she was going to have to write an article that exposed that guilt to the whole world.
The thought made her sick.
Because whatever his reasons for not telling her who he was—and she was forced to admit his omission could have been for any number of reasons besides him thinking she was a gold digger—after all, she hadn’t exactly told him what she did for a living, either, had she?—he didn’t deserve her using their connection, or whatever it was, to trick him into letting her inside Bijoux.
She had never used her body to get what she wanted, and she’d be damned if she’d use it now, even after the fact. No, she decided as she sat at her desk scrolling through the folder Malcolm had emailed her. If she had to do this investigation, then she would do it her way. Without involving Nic until she had no other choice in the matter. And when she’d reached that point, when she’d gathered as much information as she could on his company’s diamond procurement, she would go to him. But she would do it the right way. She would be totally honest about who she was and what she wanted.
It was the only way she could do it, as far as she could tell. The only way she could write the story and also keep her integrity. Anything else was out of the question.
Satisfied with her decision—or at least as satisfied as she could be—she skimmed through the rest of the file before pulling out a yellow legal pad and making a list of every question she could think of pertaining to the investigation. It was just a start. She was sure she would come up with a bunch more as she delved into her research. But she needed to start somewhere, and this seemed as good a way to focus her research as any other.
Always start with the questions, her father used to tell her. How do you know what you’re looking for if you don’t even know what information you’re missing? He’d said that to her a million times when she was young, back when he actually used to come home from his sojourns on the road. Back when he—when they—still had a home for him to come back to.
Shoving the unpleasant memories away, she dug into the story just as he’d taught her all those years ago. And soon she was so engrossed in her research that she forgot about everything else. It turned out the diamond trade was a fascinating—and brutal—world, one where human lives were often valued much less than the stones they mined.
She was so riveted by the stories that she didn’t even notice Stephanie stopping by her desk until her friend put her hand on Desi’s arm. Then she nearly jumped through the roof.
“I’m sorry!” Stephanie laughed when Desi had finally calmed down enough to take a breath. “I just wanted to see if you were ready to go to lunch.”
“Oh, yeah. Of course. Give me five minutes to get all this in order, if that’s okay.”
“No problem. Looks like you got a decent story after all.”
“Looks like. I hope I can do it justice.”
“Of course you can! You’ll be off the galas and into the news pages in no time.”
“From your mouth to God’s ears,” Desi told her.
“Hush! Don’t let Malcolm hear you say that. He’ll think you’re talking about him!”
