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“Well, that’s what I need,” she declares as she stands and walks back to the other side of her desk, then sits heavily in her chair. “Everyone else would be… you know. Taken in by their charms. They have a reputation as Lotharios, as master seducers, and frankly, they’ve earned every bit of it.”
“I really don’t like this,” I admit uneasily. “My sexual status is not a topic I feel particularly comfortable talking about, let alone using as a… a… I don’t even know what. A shield, I guess.” I shift in my chair. “Or a gambit.”
“So don’t talk about it. Just be about it.”
Her stare is direct, unwavering. She’s not negotiating with me. She’s commanding me, just like she commanded me to write all those lipstick comparisons and selfie photo tips.
“I don’t want to.” Why do I sound like a petulant child?
“It won't really be so bad,” she sighs. “It's just a date. A few dates. And then write about it, like you do. The way only you can.”
“But why?” I ask her in a drawn-out wail.
I don't want to sound like I'm whining, but I'm totally whining. I like being single. I like it that my only pet is my laptop. The last time there was a man in my life… it didn't end well. No man equals no bad endings. It’s as simple as that. And just because I came to that conclusion before I lost my virginity is just incidental.
“Bella, the merger is… not going spectacularly well. Just to be honest.”
She grits her teeth. They line up together in perfect rows. Her eyes are hooded and dark, not their typical cornflower blue. I can tell that putting this together and admitting it to me causes her some discomfort.
Good. It's causing me discomfort too.
“Without the merger, we’re in trouble. As you know, the whole publishing industry is in turmoil. We need to merge to stay strong, to stay viable. If not…”
Her voice trails off. I think I know what was at the end of that sentence. If we don't merge, we go under. Riordan Publishing goes belly up. A few thousand people lose their jobs, just like that, in an industry where getting a new job is practically impossible at the moment.
“And the key to this merger is a date, somehow? There has got to be more to the story, Hannah,” I plead. “Just explain the angle to me. Okay? You know I would do anything I could for you.”
She winks at me, smiling grimly. “Because we’re sisters."
“My sister from another mister,” I echo solemnly.
“So you’ll do it? It won't be so bad, I promise.”
I shrug helplessly. What am I going to say?
“Of course I'll do it. Who’s my new boyfriend?”
“Emmet Riordan,” she smirks.
I think my heart just stopped. Seriously. I can’t hear it anymore.
“Breathe, Bella,” she coaches me.
“I am breathing,” I lie. “You want me go out with the president of the company? The millionaire? Wait… billionaire?? And write about it?”
“Yes,” she nods, eyebrows arched. She steeples her fingertips under her chin and gets a far off look in her big blue eyes. “I want a Cinderella story, soup to nuts. Little mouse friends and glass slippers and everything. Ooh — get yourself photographed picking out shoes at Gucci, going to openings at the MCA. Billionaire stuff, but not pervy. Build me a G-rated fairy tale. Okay, maybe PG. But in public, for everyone in the world to see.”
I shake my head in confusion. Emmet and Dillon Riordan are co-presidents of the entire company, after inheriting it from their dad upon his passing a decade ago. Early on, the publishing business was still in gold rush years. Emmet and Dillon were all over the newspaper tabloids and gossip television, living like rock stars while they somehow managed to get more and more wealthy, no matter how much money they spent. Or how carelessly. They had well-publicized affairs with a couple of married supermodels, mysterious songwriters, actresses… pretty much the whole menu of bangable ladies. Plus the a la carte.
Every time they did something bad, they seemed to get rewarded for it. Their stock went up, their new ventures skyrocketed to internet stardom, whatever. They couldn’t miss. Which begs the question: why would one of them need to date me?
“Yeah, Hannah, I'm still not getting it. How on earth does that have anything to do with the merger?”
Hannah rises from her chair, turning her back to me as she walks to the wall of windows and stares out. I can tell she does not want me to know the whole story, which means there is no way of getting it out of her. She’s Fort Knox when she wants to be. It’s part of her success.
“It’s gonna be great. You’ll probably really like him. Everybody does. And then we can get you back on track, okay?” I think she’s losing interest in this conversation. She picks an imaginary piece of lint off her skirt.
“But how? How am I supposed to date someone I don’t even know? When I don’t even want to date, you know, anyone?”
