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Eyelids drooping ever so slightly, Blair scrutinized the laptop screen in front of her. Columnists and their topics were listed throughout the document, and it was her job to oversee them as their manager. She’d already emailed half of her remote team members, and had meetings set up with the few that worked in the office.
Blair heard the footsteps far before they reached her desk.
“You must be Blair.”
Fortifying herself against any unintentional rudeness, Blair lifted her head to catch the man’s gaze. Steel grey eyes peered at her from the harsh panes of a handsome face. Dark hair was interspersed with a faint touch of grey, and his jawline was barely shadowed.
His hand extended in the brief pause after he spoke. “I’m Torrin Scayde, Editor-In-Chief.”
Pride reverberated in his words, and Blair heard the distinct undercurrent of superiority in his tone. Pasting an Oscar-worthy grin on her lips, she dipped her chin in greeting.
“Blair Uhura.”
“Typically, I interview all managers before we bring them on—” he tilted his head, but an inscrutable look gleamed in his eye, “—but it seems our hiring staff thought you’d be snapped up by our competitors if we didn’t extend an offer on the spot.”
Blair forced a casual shrug. “My resume speaks for itself, but I’m happy to give you a rundown should you prefer.”
“I would, as a matter of fact.” Torrin nodded toward his office. “Do you have lunch plans?”
Gag me. “I’d be happy to join you. It’ll give us a chance to get to know one another.”
The smirk that pulled over his lips was pure male satisfaction as he motioned for her to follow. Blair swallowed the sudden urge for violence. Her fledgling had nearly died in Torrin’s torture chamber, and she could imagine no greater pleasure than to wrap her hands around Torrin’s throat and watch the life drain from his eyes.
Instead, she nodded politely as he let her enter the space before him and pulled the door shut. Rounding the desk to sit on the high-backed leather chair behind it, he offered her a seat in one of the guest chairs.
“We don’t often welcome too many Princeton graduates.” The sleeves of his suit coat lowered to reveal an expensive-looking watch when he tented his hands on the desk. “And rarely ones so lovely.”
Before she let the compliment fall flat, she consciously reminded herself that she was here to get under his skin, and by doing so, identify additional threats to her people. And he, like any man, could be manipulated.
Letting her red lips curl in a sultry smile, she lowered her chin coyly. “You’ve just made my day, Torrin.”
His gaze darkened momentarily, but Blair couldn’t pinpoint the cause. When his eyes leisurely dropped to the buttons of her blouse in open admiration, a dirty feeling itched over her skin. As it was, she barely resisted the urge to cross her arms.
Piercing grey eyes recaptured hers. “How about giving me that quick rundown?”
She’d never been happier to lie. Quickly reviewing both the fake portions of her resume as well as the truthful ones, Blair wove enough details into the speech that nothing seemed suspicious. As she spoke, the human across from her was riveted. Had she been a mere mortal intent on his affections, Blair would have fawned over the attention.
But she wasn’t. And she didn’t.
Ten minutes passed as they continued their conversation. Neither of them ate, despite his hook to lure her into his office, but the lie didn’t seem to bother him, and it certainly didn’t bother her. As his inquisition ended, Torrin asked her to accompany him to the printing floor for a quick tour of the presses.
Though a shred of suspicion flared in her mind, she didn’t hesitate to accept. Conversation continued to flow easily between them, the smooth-talking man leading her down a side stairwell, nodding to other journalists as they passed.
“How long have you worked here, Torrin?”
“Twelve years. I was originally a current events journalist, then made my way to the top.”
“What did you do before this?”
Torrin’s expression briefly shadowed with a faraway look. “I was a Marine. Served alongside some of the best men I’ve ever known before ending up here.”
“Thank you for your service. You’re a hero.” Blair infused false admiration into her voice and fought the urge to scoff.
Trailing behind him, she nodded along to his explanation of the printing presses and the employees who worked them. She was frankly impressed by how automated the process was, and didn’t have to feign surprise. As she responded with the appropriate words of encouragement and acceptance, Blair played every card in her book to charm the man.
It seemed to be working.
But when he placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her toward the clearly neglected storage rooms, the errant twinge of suspicion re-entered her mind. No other party had entered the printing room while they’d taken their tour, and Blair spied no cameras hidden around the space.
