Chapter 1 #2
“Pulse Media is one of the top news outlets in the country. They’re not going to miss one piece of printed paper.
But if you want to save the planet and police the abuse of company resources, you should start with the abundance of wasted yellow slips coming out of your cubicle.
That seems like something I should discuss with HR,” I tell her, turning away as she gasps behind me.
Grinning to myself, I stride directly toward Jedd’s office.
Only, I can’t help but glance back at her one more time.
“Oh, and for the record, this isn’t a personal email.
It’s confirmation of the biggest interview this agency has ever landed.
The kind of interview that puts people on the map, and unlike yours, my name is all over it. ”
And with that, I reach Jedd’s door and push it wide open, not bothering to knock or wait for permission to enter.
His gaze snaps up, and I’m immediately met with his furrowed brow. “Where’s my coffee?” he questions, looking at me as though I don’t have a single purpose in life if I don’t have his caffeine ready and waiting for him.
“I, uhh—”
“And the edits from the Filmore case? I asked for them last Thursday.”
I step forward and pinch a manila folder from the edge of his desk.
I put it there almost a week ago. “They’re right here,” I say, fighting the bite in my tone as I place it on top of the pile in front of him.
Getting under Janette’s skin is one thing, but I know where the line is, and disrespecting my boss, despite how much he might deserve it, is a one-way ticket to unemployment.
“And the minutes from the end of the week wrap-up meeting? They were supposed to be on my desk by lunch on Friday.”
Shoving the interview confirmation under my arm, I dig through the mess of folders on Jedd’s desk until I find exactly what I’m looking for and hand it to him, just as I did the first time.
“Here it is,” I tell him, slapping on a fake smile.
“It must have gotten mixed up with these other files. I also sent a digital copy to your email to make things easier.”
His bushy brows furrow again, and he glances up at his computer screen, finding the email I’d sent to him at eleven am on Friday morning. “Yes. I see,” he murmurs before holding up his hand and waving me away. “You’re dismissed.”
“I, uhhh . . . actually. I needed to discuss the—”
“I’m still waiting on that coffee.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll grab it in just a moment,” I say, quickly pulling the interview confirmation from under my arm before he dismisses me again. “We need to discuss the arrangements for the Blackthorne interview next week. Can I schedule some time with you this afternoon?”
Jedd’s gaze lifts to mine again, confusion flickering across his face. “Blackthorne?” he questions. “What Blackthorne interview? We don’t have anything like that on the roster.”
“Stone Blackthorne,” I say. “The prisoner serving four life sentences for murder. I’ve been going back and forth with his lawyer, Charles Wentworth.”
His brows shoot up in understanding. “Ahhh, yes. Stone Blackthorne,” he says slowly, taking his time as if trying to recall the finer details of the case. Then his stare narrows on me once again. “I thought I told you to stop harassing that firm.”
“I did. Kind of. They reached out to me,” I say, thrusting the email toward him and watching as he plucks it from my hand and glances over it. “They’ve confirmed an interview with me for next week.”
“Right. Okay. Wow. This is huge,” he says, his brows pinching together in concern. “With you?”
“Yes, sir.”
He blows out a breath, looking confused by their decision to have me host this interview, but he’s not going to turn it down solely for that reason. This is too big. An interview with Stone Blackthorne is going to garner international headlines. It’s not an opportunity Jedd can afford to pass up.
“Uhhhh, yes. Okay. Start prepping interview questions and find the prison’s entry requirements—for both of us.
Then reach out to his lawyer and ask about getting a full camera crew inside the prison.
I want footage of his cell and every inch of that penitentiary.
If we’re doing this, then we’re doing it right.
Depending on how much content he gives us, this could potentially be a six-episode docu-series. We’re talking six, seven figures.”
My brow arches. Six or seven figures? That’s insane. I knew this interview would make headlines, but I didn’t realize it would sell for that much.
“For both of us? You’re planning on attending the interview?”
“Yes. Seems like the perfect opportunity to see how you handle yourself in high-profile cases.”
Well, shit. Why do I suddenly feel sick?
“Sounds good. I’ll get right on it,” I say with a curt nod, never having felt more motivated to spend the day working.
Although judging by the tasks Jedd just handed me, it sounds like he’s more interested in exploiting Stone’s privacy for ratings than finding the truth.
Either way, he’s going to be reviewing my work, and I can’t afford to screw this up.
Turning on my heel, I take off for the main office to get started, but Jedd calls after me. “Aria, have Janette fetch me a coffee.”
I grin. Nothing would make me happier. “Yes, sir,” I say, before pausing and glancing back. “Oh, . . . speaking of Janette. She might be on the warpath, clutching those little yellow slips like they could solve world hunger. Though I really don’t understand. I’m an absolute peach to work with.”
Jedd sighs with exasperation. “Jesus Christ, Aria. What could you have possibly done now? It’s barely nine in the morning.”
“Oh, it was nothing. I was just exercising my right to freedom of speech, but apparently, Janette was offended. I can’t imagine why.”
Jedd groans. “Alright. I’ll handle it. Just get to work. We can’t afford distractions when it comes to this interview.”
“Will do.”
Stepping out of Jedd’s office, I stride back across the scratchy carpet to find Janette leaning against my desk, and despite how frustrating it is to find her hovering in my space, nothing could possibly wipe the smile off my face.
“What do you need, Janette? I’m busy,” I tell her, scootching around her to sit down. “I have an interview to prep for.”
“An interview?” she scoffs, gaping at me. “You?”
“Yes, me,” I confirm, grinning wider. “I know you only see me as a glorified ass wipe, but despite what you may think, I’m actually a qualified journalist—a damn good one at that.”
Janette scoffs again. “If I were you, I’d wipe that smile off my face.”
“Not gonna happen,” I say, focusing on my computer screen and getting busy typing. “Maybe you should try it sometime. You know, offer a smile every now and then. Maybe you’ll even get laid every once in a while. God knows you need it.”
She gasps loud enough for the entire room to hear, and if I were to look up, I can guarantee she’d be clutching her pearls. “Mark my words, Aria Ashford. Your days here are numbered.”
“Good to know,” I chime, my grin widening. “Oh, and Jedd requested that you fetch his coffee. You remember how he likes it? Black, just like my soul.”