Page 25 of Cole

An hour later, I sent it over to the assistant editor, Alanna, and went to her desk to say hi. Emmit might be the editor-in-chief, but Alanna did ninety-five percent of the work. Typical.

“Got it. Just let me read it real quick,” Alanna said, her eyes trained on her screen. I wandered around her little office as she read my piece.

She had articles framed on the walls with her byline. Jealousy surged through me, but I pushed it down. I had no problem with Alanna. She’d worked hard for all the recognition she had. I scanned a story that she did as a freshman about protests on campus.

“It’s great, no notes, like always,” Alanna announced behind me.

I sat down in the chair opposite her. “Ok, that’s good, because technically I think I have about an hour before deadline, right?”

She nodded. “Yes, you are always the last, but it’s ok. I know you’re going to knock it out of the park.”

“Hmm, for a piece no one cares about, sure,” I sighed. “If I ever brought you something else, something real, would you run it?”

“Emmit has to approve all articles,” Alanna said rotely, and then peered at me. “Why? Do you have something?”

I shrugged. “Maybe, I don’t know. I have a lead, maybe… an interesting thread to tug on.”

Alanna raised her eyebrow at me. “A lead isn’t a story.”

“I know. I just can’t imagine going to all the effort of getting the real story, just to not have a place to run it.”

Alanna tapped her lip, considering. “I can’t guarantee you a place in the paper before I see the article… but I do know this. Emmit would green-light a killer story, no matter who wrote it, and if he didn’t, I would.”

“So, you’re saying it’s all about the story?” I said. It was something I already knew. The only way to overcome Emmit’s obvious aversion to putting my real writing anywhere was to have a story that he needed to publish. Something showstopping. Like exposing an MC gang and their illegal gunrunning or drug operation? Drugs that could be flooding our campus this very second? Yeah, that would do it, and save Rosie nights of heartbreak at the same time.

Alanna’s words gave me hope. If I brought the story, she would run it. That would change everything for me before time ran out.

“I hear you,” I told her, getting up and slinging my bag across my body.

Alanna narrowed her eyes at me. “Why do I feel the need to remind you that we don’t condone any of our staff putting themselves into dangerous or illegal situations to get a story?”

I tapped my nose conspiratorially, making Alanna shake her head.

“Of course not, I’d never think that.”

“I’m serious!” she called as I grinned at her, walking backward toward the doors.

“I’ve got you. I’ll see you later in the week.”

Alanna was right. The story was king. She’d worked her way into the best position she could hope to, considering that Emmit was sitting in the top spot with no sign of going anywhere until he graduated. If I wanted to write something serious, I needed to show that I’d do serious things to get that information.

I needed to go back to The Clutch, and this time, I wasn’t leaving without my next lead.

No matter what.

eight

ISABELLE

I wore the pleather again. It was the only skirt I had that was anything near edgy. I wasn’t a huge shopper, so apart from my second-hand disguise haul, I mostly wore whatever my mother pressed on me when I went to my parents’ monthly brunch at my childhood home.

This time, however, I wore a plaid shirt unbuttoned to mid-sternum and tucked into the skirt, and completed the look with a black lacy bra peeping out of the shirt. I didn’t have much to fill a bra with, so I might as well make the most of it.

It was similar to an outfit I’d seen one of the Hounds’ girlfriends wearing the last time I’d come, and honestly, it had looked hot as hell. I wasn’t sure I was pulling it off half as well as that curvy queen had, but there was only so much I could do with a ruler-shaped body.

The drive over to the bar didn’t take long enough for my fears to overtake my curiosity.

I parked at the far edge of the lot and gave myself a pep talk. Maybe I’d get lucky and Cole wouldn’t even be there, just some random minion I could sweet-talk for some information.