Chapter Thirteen
O n Monday morning, I was back at Pulse360, trying to decide if I even suited this place.
I needed more time to figure out what to do, what would make me happy.
It was fun to sit in my cubicle and work diligently on a story, look up from my desk and watch the newsroom bustle with activity.
I brushed crumbs off my Mary Quant vintage skirt, having eaten my mozzarella and tomato sandwich at my desk, still a little uneasy about joining the others.
Chloe was out of the office digging around for details about her story. I missed the company and was eager to learn more about her article.
I had spent the whole weekend avoiding Cameron, which wasn’t easy considering we were staying in the same house. Thankfully, it was big enough to find a spot to lay low. From the movie room to the private gym, he had every corner of it covered with everything a human may need.
When he’d asked about me looking for a new job, I’d told him I was submitting resumés, and then made it look like I was heading out to explore the city.
I’d point blank refused security.
Asking Cameron about that beautiful chandelier snow globe might trigger more questions, so for now, I kept it in my bedroom hidden away. I’d never considered misleading someone, particularly not a family member, but this was the only way to prove I could be successful by myself.
I’d never taken risks before, and yet my brothers had, so this was merely me mirroring their bravery.
At 10:00 A.M., I was summoned to the twelfth floor by the senior anchor.
Riding the elevator, I braced myself to meet her, excited to be brushing shoulders with a woman whose job I coveted. A woman whose work had inspired me beyond all measure. Her even knowing my name gave me a rush.
Within minutes, her secretary invited me to enter her office.
As I walked in, Julia Sterling watched my every step from her red office chair, like a woman surveying her youthful competition—which I was so obviously not. There was no competing with this remarkable woman.
But this bright star in television had summoned me.
“You asked to see me?” I said, taking everything in.
“Willa, right? Nice to meet you.” Julia exuded that rare kind of charisma that had made her one of America’s darlings. Short blonde hair framed a delicate face and defined her high cheekbones. Her wide, sparkling eyes captivated anyone who looked her way. It was no surprise she had been handpicked from the newsroom to anchor the evening news. Her presence was magnetic.
I gave a nod. “It’s an honor to meet you.”
She didn’t invite me to sit.
Behind her glass desk, she sat reading my email—which she’d printed out and held with a taut reverence. Julia was known for a natural charm that transcended mere beauty. Her infamous voice, imbued with a scorching confidence, added to her power-woman allure.
“This is what you’ve been working on?” Her tone carried a dash of accusation, like she was questioning how my time had been spent.
Having been here just one day, not counting the weekend, my story was too fresh to share, but being invited to meet with her was an opportunity I didn’t want to pass up. I’d guessed that not every new employee got the chance to step into this room.
“It’s a good start.” She forced a smile.
“Thank you,” I said, not sure if it was appropriate to address her as Julia.
I was seeing up close the hard edge of a woman who’d flung herself right through the glass ceiling and kept on going.
“You’re already making an impression, I hear.”
I smiled. “Oh, who mentioned that?”
“Everyone you’ve met.”
Coming from her that meant everything.
She was wearing makeup that looked harsh under the fluorescent lighting. She was set to present the news in less than fifteen minutes, yet she sat relaxed like she wasn’t about to face millions of viewers. “What’s your take?”
I drew in a sharp breath. “Date rape drugs are more common than people realize,” I said. “It’s downplayed. Women need to be more alert. I believe if we can reach out to viewers of your show, we can prevent more incidents.”
“The more people that talk about this, the better.”
“Exactly.”
“Tell me more.”
“There’s a chemical you can drop into your drink if you suspect it’s been tampered with. The alcohol changes color to signify a toxin is present.”
“Other than the alcohol itself.” She winked, and I remembered that it was a reference to her being alcohol-free for over twenty years. Everyone admired her for that. “But is anyone leaving their drink unattended these days?”
“Sometimes you believe your friend is watching your drink while you head off to the restroom, but what if they’re distracted?” I lowered my gaze. “I mean, drinks are expensive. Sometimes we second guess ourselves and drink it anyway.”
“I don’t.”
I met her gaze. “Right.”
“Your intuition is your compass. Don’t forget that.”
“I believe that, too.”
“What was it about your resumé that made you stand out to us?” she asked.
I hesitated for a moment. “My grades. I worked hard on my application. I wrote a story that was published. It was Pulse360 that reached out to me.”
“Brown is competitive, and so many people get in because of the right circumstances—people they know, situations they were born into.”
My face flickered with uncertainty.
She glanced down at her desk for a second. “Things aligned for you in ways that aren’t just about your effort.”
Familiar doubtcrept in, but I pushed it aside. “I earned it.”
“It’s interesting how often we take credit for things we don’t control. Makes you question how much of our success is really ours to claim.”
“You earned this, too,” I said flatly. “You are an inspiration for so many.”
She looked doubtful. “Being out of touch with the people you’re meant to connect with is a disadvantage. Our audience struggles, and they like to hear that we struggle, too.”
Ouch.
It wasn’t the first time I’d heard this, but each time, it hit a little harder. There were moments when I felt disconnected from the world, as if I were drifting through it with a strange, quiet grace.
“This was why being here is so important to me,” I admitted. “I want to make a difference. Do it on my own merit.”
She glanced at her wristwatch, and I could see it was a Hermes Cape Cod. The fact I knew this proved her point.
“You’ll cover my story?” I asked. “Do a segment on it?”
“It needs more.”
My face flushed at the thought I’d revealed my eagerness, and the article, too soon. I’d had one chance to impress her and missed the mark by too much. I’d let myself down, as well as those I might have helped by getting this story out there to a larger audience.
It made me question whether I was the right person to pursue it. Perhaps I wasn’t equipped to understand the complexities of what it meant to be a woman without the same resources.
Self-doubt made my belly ache.
If anyone found out I moved through the world sometimes with a security detail, all credibility would be lost. I’d believed that if I had a story run by Julia Sterling on national news my brothers might see the wisdom of me keeping this job.
Her steely gaze met mine. “There’s something I need.”
My lips curled into a slow smile, a sense of pride rising in my chest. Perhaps this new story of hers was the break I needed, a way to prove myself so she could see my value.
I was on the verge of saying yes.
Then she leaned forward and rested her hands on the desk, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. “An interview.”
My smile froze. “With whom?”
“Henry Cole.”
She’d spoken his name like it was nothing, like she hadn’t just crushed my hope of being here on my own merit. The reason she’d called me into her office suddenly became glaringly clear, brighter and more painful than her stark florescent lighting.
“Your brother?” she added.
“Right.”
Her gaze locked onto mine, intense and unblinking, as if she were unraveling the mystery of what it must have been like to grow up in the shadow of the Cole family, surrounded by legendary older brothers whose charisma consumed the world, leaving their ordinary little sister to fade into the background.
Me. The girl with nothing but a burning desire to prove herself, and no way to make it happen.
She beamed at me, and it was disarming. As if she could feel the weight of all the things I’d never been able to say, all the things I had never been allowed to be.
“It would please me, Willa.”
“Ms. Sterling, my family members are very private people.”
“Call me Julia.”
“Julia, I—”
“I already know so much, it won’t take long to speak with him personally. Henry, the elusive CEO. The magnetic billionaire.” She glanced at the wall as though able to see through the brick and mortar toward the very building my brother was in right now—Cole Tower. “Is he really marrying a dominatrix?”
What she couldn’t know was that Henry’s fiancée, Charlotte, was one of the most beautiful and kind women I’d ever met. And she was perfect for Henry. She was so much more than a caricature.
“My story is important.” I glanced down at the email. “Can we focus on that, perhaps, for now?”
She tapped the paper with her fingernail in an action that said, Quid pro quo.
My heart sank—she’d just proven that I was only in this room for one reason.
And it had nothing to do with me.
“Make it happen.” She pushed to her feet, and I was reminded of her tallness. “Then, you and I will work on something together. You’ll share credit. It’ll be an opportunity to launch your career.”
“I’m not sure…”
She narrowed her gaze, and she didn’t need to say the words for me to understand the gesture. Don’t be naive, Willa.
“I appreciate your time,” I said, swallowing the disappointment, not wanting to blow this opportunity up any more than I already had.
Or maybe the illusion I had anything to offer was coming to a screeching end—in all its twelfth-floor glory.
She headed toward the door. “Now, if you get me an interview with Cameron Cole…” She looked at me, arching a brow. “You’ll see yourself as a field reporter.”
I felt a tightness in my throat; a sense that I’d betrayed my brothers even though I hadn’t agreed to anything.
Tears welled up in my eyes, because that was the dream I had always longed for—to be a field reporter. Now I was suffering from the bitter taste of a silver spoon that had been served to me my entire life—one that never seemed to work in my favor.
I’d never asked for advantages—just a chance.
Julia must have read my expression. “Your story—” She glanced back toward my printed proposal that sat abandoned on her desk. “It’s certainly important. I will consider it at some point. Or someone will. What I need is a Pulitzer Prize worthy story featuring someone in the public eye. Now, bring me that and you’ll have my full attention.”
She walked out of the room, swaying her hips like she knew everyone was watching—and they were. Staff turned to observe her like she was a rare sighting, deserving of everyone’s reverence.
I let out a sigh of frustration.
Her charisma was ineffably magnetic, blending professionalism with sensuality in a way that had captivated audiences.
I wanted to dislike her, but I couldn’t—not when I wanted to be her.
It was her audacity, her unapologetic confidence, and a relentless drive that had propelled her to the top, all the way to senior news anchor. She wasn’t just playing the game, she was rewriting the rules.
If I were smart enough, I could learn from her.
I stood quietly for a minute, looking around her office. The space was drenched in proof of her success—photos with presidents, celebrities, countless accolades, alongside international awards bearing foreign names.
My directive was clear.
If I wanted back in this room, I would have to deliver my brother to her. Or discover a public figure who was up to no good. It would take too long to prove myself, too long for Cameron to see I had what it took to make my mark.
Time was not a luxury I had.
I’d held back on sharing with Julia that she was my inspiration, the woman who’d influenced me during my years at Brown. She was the newscaster I admired the most, but now, after hearing her brazen request, I felt uneasy.
Jewel had told her I was a Cole.
I refused to glance down at the email she’d printed out—the fake reason I was standing here.
I left it on her desk hoping she’d give the story consideration. Maybe she’d see the merit in it and realize its importance, with those horrifying stats of women being taken advantage of by strangers, or boyfriends, and even husbands.
While researching this, I’d become invested, finding a personal mission to get the warning out to women. Having gatekeepers who prevented me from running with this issue made me feel professionally compromised.
And anyway, Henry would refuse to conduct an interview with my new employer out of principle. Cameron was super private, too. He’d never grant any kind of exclusive. Especially since the press had once tried to take him down.
Henry and Cameron didn’t need the press to enhance their images. They had proven themselves time and again, never relying on the media to bolster their reputations. Henry, with his distinguished military background and relentless drive, had propelled Cole Tea into the twenty-first century with soaring profits. Meanwhile, Cameron had earned widespread respect through his impressive philanthropic efforts, both for the company and his personal causes.
I felt like a distant star to the towering figures of my high-achieving brothers, still a long way from even grazing the edges of their accomplishments.
Heading out of Julia’s office, I made my way down the hallway, admiring the walls filled with photos of previous presenters over the years. This floor was dedicated to those who’d climbed to the heady height of executive status.
At some point, they’d had to become cut-throat. I wasn’t sure I had it in me.
Stepping into the elevator, I turned and hit the DOWN button.
Oh, God.
I suppressed a cringe when Chad, the mailroom guy, came scurrying toward the elevator doors.
I punched the DOWN button again, pretending not to see him. Chad launched himself at the doors, quickly joining me in the small space.
He hugged several envelopes to his chest. “What a surprise to see you here.”
Annoyance twisted in my gut that he’d again triggered me. I inhaled slowly and resisted the urge to argue.
He hit all the buttons that led down to my floor. It was immature, but I didn’t say so out loud.
I took another deep breath to calm my nerves, reminding myself not to react to whatever came out of his mouth.
Silence.
The uncomfortable kind, the sinister kind, the weight of a threat poised, ready to strike.
Chad’s eyes burned with an accusation I couldn’t place, the intensity of his hate sending a chill down my spine.
The elevator jolted to a stop, but the doors refused to open, trapping us in the thick, suffocating silence.