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“What?” he demanded.
“You heard me.” She looked as intimidating as a ten-year-old boy, yet those green eyes said, I know your secrets.
“Clone my phone?”
She crossed her arms under her nonexistent chest. “Even I know there are lines.”
“Blackmail isn’t one of them?” he sneered.
“It’s not blackmail. It’s bribery since you’re the one trying to buy your way out of my blog,” she said. He didn’t want to consider whether she had a point. He couldn’t be the reason another trashy reporter ruined someone he cared about.
“Get in the car,” he demanded, and didn’t turn back to see whether she followed.
