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I didn’t know how, just knew why he’d never come onto me before.
"I’m starting to feel left out," I crooned.
Wintersen leaned forward, the chair creaking under his weight as he asked, "In what way, my dear?"
"Well, I know the reason you gave Sally Livingston the anchor position was because she was nice to you."
"Nice?" His lips curved. "Nice sums it up. Do you want to be nicer to me?"
"It depends. What’s in it for me?"
He grinned, a knowing cast overtaking his expression as if we were both speaking the same language. "It depends on what you want. Sally wanted the anchor position on Wednesday mornings."
"Maybe I want more than TVGM."
"You have aspirations. So good to hear," he crooned. "Well, you know my leverage is mostly over the TVGM studios, but..." He winked. "I do have friends on Channel Four."
Smiling, I leaned forward. "That sounds very interesting. No more early mornings." I laughed, and it was so natural that even now, I grimaced. How was I this good at faking?
Past Savannah let her hand trace the seam of the armchair I was sitting in, at the same moment as I crossed my legs. A deep split appeared in my skirt, one that drifted obscenely high, enough that he licked his fleshy lips.
"I think it’s the first time I’ve seen you in a skirt, Savannah. You usually wear those boxy suits."
I just smiled at him and let my fingers fall to my thigh. "What would I have to do to get the position?"
"Well, you’d have to be...nice to me," he said softly, sinking back into his seat, his hand dropping to his crotch as he palmed himself. "But you’d have to be nicer than Sally." He smirked. "Can you do that, Savannah?"
In answer, I dropped to my knees and though the distance between us was short, and a little cramped, I crawled over to him. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Once I was near, I placed my hands on his knees, and purred, "I can be very, very, verynice."
That was when my arm reared back and I punched him in the junk.
Conor hissed. "Ouch."
I grinned, despite myself. "You should have heard him whimper."
"I’m surprised he let you go on air after that happened."
"He’d set up an internal audit, basically looking to take me down, but I did that the evening before I went live the next morning, and I paid some of the runners to make sure the footage wasn’t pulled before the video ended."
"Let me guess, women he’d creeped on over the years?"
I winked at him. "You got it." Releasing a shaky breath, I admitted, "That was the first time I watched it back."
"Really?" Conor twisted to look up at me. "Who edited it for you?"
"I did it myself."
He snorted. "Bullshit."
I squinted at him. "Are you trying to be an asshole?"
Best to deflect here.
I had no desire to get anyone in the studio into trouble, and I knew Acuig Corp. had a stake in TVGM so the O’Donnellys would be invested in knowing who’d helped me—this was definitely a dangerous topic. Getting me a job was one thing, but I had no idea how invested they were in the daily operations. Aidan hadn’t given me shit about Wintersen, but Conor might be different.
"My brothers will confirm that I don’t have to try to be an asshole." Conor laughed at his own joke. "I’ll keep digging if you don’t tell me," he warned, his tone shifting so abruptly from amused to dark that I glowered at him.
"Someone high up in the network helped me," I admitted begrudgingly. "I’m not going to name names."
