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“Don’t worry, we’re not talking aboutClarity.” The assistant, Julie, smiled at her.
“Oh, I didn’t think you were.”
“It’s that magazine,Empire Monthly.” The editor nodded toward the open elevator.
Brooke managed to keep her voice casually curious as they entered the car. “Empire?”
“Rumor has it there was some big kerfuffle involving the investor.” Balancing her coffee and a portfolio, Julie punched the button for the thirtieth floor. “So they’re doing a big internal slash job, getting rid of some people and replacing them with fresh blood. But now they have money issues, so they might not last much longer.”
She shrugged and sipped her coffee.
“Interesting.” Brooke bit her lip. “What’s going to happen to the editor-in-chief?”
“Oh, he’s probably first on the chopping block.” Julie rolled her eyes. “Good riddance, if you ask me. I met him at a party once. Total sleazebag.”
For an instant, Brooke felt a cloud descending on her. Julie had discerned Michael’s sleazebag-ness after one party. Brooke hadn’t realized the full truth until…recently.
Nope. Lesson learned. And it’s fine—in fact, it’s worth it—to try and forgive someone one time. If they fail again, then game over.
She told the two women to have a good day and walked toward Jillian’s office. Though she wished no ill on Michael—well, maybe just a tad—she didn’t need Destiny Storm to tell her that karma was on the payroll and working hard.
“Morning, Brooke.” Jillian waved her toward a chair. “I haveLifelong Flingon the agenda for Tuesday’s meeting. Will you still be in town then?”
“I’m afraid not.” Brooke opened her notebook. “I’m leaving Friday to head back home for a few days. We have a local Book Fair this weekend that I didn’t want to miss.”
“How charming.” Jillian began making two cappuccinos. “Nice to know book fairs are still around. Sometimes I feel like technology is running the world. Though that’s not to say it doesn’t make life infinitely easier.”
“I agree.”
“Speaking of which…” Jillian placed the coffees on the table and sat down. “I know your job hasn’t officially started yet, but if you have an hour or so on Tuesday to video call in to the meeting, we’d love to have your input.”
Brooke took a sip of the foamy coffee. “Does your staff often video call in to meetings?”
“All the time.” Jillian waved a hand. “Of course, we prefer people to be here in person, but it saves both time and money when they video call. Will you be available Tuesday morning at ten Eastern?”
“Of course.” Brooke set the coffee down and straightened her shoulders. “This also brings up another proposal I’d like to discuss with you.”
“Certainly.”
An hour and twenty minutes later, Brooke left Jillian’s office with the sinking feeling that she might have just made a mistake. Maybe this was even worse than what had happened atThe New York Times, and she’d have to leave her job before it even began.
She took the subway back to the Granger, again knocking the slush off her boots before starting toward the hotel elevators.
“Miss Castle?” The front desk receptionist waved her over. “There’s a letter here for you.”
Brooke approached to take the envelope, which was addressed to her in care of the hotel.
Though the envelope didn’t have a return address, there was no mistaking the bold, spiky handwriting. She could see Sam standing in front of the whiteboard, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows as he scrawled notes and ideas about romance.
“Just arrived in today’s mail,” the receptionist informed her.
“Thank you.” Slipping the envelope into her bag, she headed up to her room.
After changing into peach-colored sweatpants and a T-shirt, she sat on the bed to open the letter. Her hands shook as she unfolded the pages:
Brooke,
Aria told me you were staying at the Granger again, so I’m hoping this letter reaches you.
