10. Harper
Harper
Exhausted after a sleepless night of reliving every moment I’d spent with Ev and then feeling shittier with each passing minute, I haul my ass into work and fall into my chair.
“Please tell me you didn’t get into the wine again,” Jace says, eyeing me while I chug the iced coffee I got on the way because I knew I needed the caffeine and couldn’t wait for anything to cool down.
“No, just couldn’t sleep,” I say, raising my arms in a stretch and hoping his lie detector is a little bit off today. He’s always been pretty good about finding my secrets, but thankfully he’s on a deadline and doesn’t have the time to snoop.
He starts typing but then shoots me a look. “We’re talking more about this later, Harps. Just because I can’t pry right this second doesn’t mean I won’t have follow-up questions later.”
I grin, despite how tired I am, and then finish my drink while he works on his latest article.
It’s impossible to be irritated with him, and since he’s busy, it’ll give me time to figure out what I’m going to tell him.
I’m still not a hundred percent sure what in the hell happened.
It went from a bad idea and poorly executed stakeout to a dinner invite to wanting to rip his clothes off and get him as deeply inside me as humanly possible.
I still can’t explain what I’d felt when he’d had me pressed against my car, kissing me like he was trying to possess every inch of me.
I’ve never been kissed like that. It didn’t feel like Ev was just trying to get into my pants, although judging by the massive dick I’d felt, he very much wanted to.
It felt like there was more behind it than just sex.
I still can’t explain it, because it’s not something either of us should’ve been feeling during a first kiss, but he made it clear we won’t be having another, so I need to stop wasting my time thinking about it.
“Harper, get in here!”
I startle at the sound of Arthur’s deep voice yelling for me. Jace raises a brow, silently asking if I know what this is about. I quickly shake my head no and then jump up to see what’s going on. Before I can walk into his office, I hear Steph’s voice.
“She’s not ready for this, Arthur, and you know it. It should be my story.”
“Your story is DeMarco,” Arthur tells her. “You remember I took it from Harper to give to you? I promised her the next one, and she’s going to get it.”
The door is open, so I step in, not caring that I’m interrupting after hearing what Steph had to say. She doesn’t even look guilty when I meet her eyes. Ignoring me, she looks back at our boss and tries one last time. “This is huge, and you know I’m the best reporter you have.”
“You’re one of the best,” Arthur clarifies. “But right now you’re pissing me off. Leave my office and go cool down somewhere.”
She looks like she wants to argue, but the look on Arthur’s face makes it clear it would be a very unwise move on her part to attempt it.
Clamping her mouth shut, she turns and walks past me, leaving the office in an angry huff and with a definite awkwardness that lingers behind, mixing with her expensive musky perfume.
“Sorry, the door was open, and I could easily hear her anyway.” I give a soft laugh, wishing like hell I’d taken the time to check the news this morning, something I usually do a million times a day but hadn’t today because I’d been so upset about Ev. “I’m pretty sure the entire office heard her.”
Arthur swats away my discomfort with a beefy hand and motions for me to sit down. “Don’t worry about Steph. She’ll cool down in a few days.” Steepling his fingers, he gives me the kind of smile that has adrenaline start to flood my system. I know that look.
“What happened?” I ask, sitting down on the edge of the chair, too alert to sit back and slump like I normally would.
“Your story just came in,” he says, eyes still lit up with the juicy news he’s just heard.
“It’s bigger than DeMarco, isn’t it?”
Instead of answering my question with a yes or no, he confirms it by saying, “Sasha Melnikov was arrested for second-degree murder. The police just announced it a few minutes ago.”
“Holy shit,” I whisper.
“Yeah,” Arthur agrees. “You ready for this, kid?”
“I’m ready,” I say, even as my heart races a mile a minute at the thought of how huge this is going to be.
“You’ll be thrilled to know Ev is representing him. You finally got your wish. Feel free to hound him as much as you want.”
He doesn’t notice the change in my mood at the mention of Ev because he’s still grinning and imagining all the readers this is going to bring to our site.
There are a lot of places to get your news from nowadays.
Competition is always high, especially since anyone can document a news story now as long as they have a cell phone and a good social media following, but with cases like this, readers are always ravenous for more.
They’ll search and read every article they can find instead of staying loyal to just one.
The arrest of Sasha Melnikov, a notorious member of the Melnikov Bratva, one who everyone knows by word of mouth but has always been untouchable, is going to be headline news for a very long time.
I can only imagine how happy Dev and the other officers are right now. This is the arrest of a lifetime.
“Go do your thing, Harper, but I want regular updates.”
I nod, willing to agree to anything right now.
I’m not looking forward to seeing Ev again after last night, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to turn this down just because we shared a kiss, even if it was amazing, and then he hurt my feelings.
I’d be a real dumbass to throw away my career for that.
I can be professional. I can do my job and forget about whatever the hell it was that passed between us.
I keep repeating it to myself while Arthur tells me the deadline for my first article, and maybe I’ll even believe it one day.
At the very least I can handle it in the only way I know how, which is to push that shit down deep and ignore it for a while.
“See if you can get a quote from Nikitin,” Arthur says when I stand up to leave.
“I’ll try,” I tell him. “He really hates talking to reporters, but you know I’ll try.”
“I have complete faith in you,” he says while he reaches for his phone. “Don’t forget to update me.”
“I won’t forget,” I promise him, and then walk out, shutting the door behind me. I speed walk to my desk, only spending just enough time to grab my bag and whisper-shout a “Holy fuck, Sasha Melnikov was just arrested and Arthur just gave it to me. I gotta go, but I’ll fill you in later.”
Jace’s shocked, wide-eyed look is the last thing I see before I turn and run for the stairs. He hollers out a “You better! Good luck!” as I leave.
I try to scroll through the news on my phone while I race down the stairs, but finally have to admit defeat when I nearly trip and fall. Breaking my neck on day one of getting the biggest case of my career is just my luck, and I don’t need to increase the odds by trying to multitask.
As soon as I’m on level ground, I look at the screen again. The details are vague, second-degree murder, victim’s name not released to the public yet, and suspect is in custody. Not nearly the information I need, and as soon as I’m in my car with the air on, I call Dev.
“I can’t say shit,” is the greeting I get.
“Well hello to you too,” I say.
“Do you seriously expect me to believe that you called to say hi?”
“I was hoping you might,” I say. “Seriously, Dev, you can’t say anything?”
“He’s been arrested. He’s been charged with second-degree murder.”
“That’s what I just read from the official police statement. You can’t give me anything else?”
Dev sighs. I hate putting him on the spot, but he knows I’d never name him, and I know he’d never give me anything that’s not going to be made public soon. I’m just asking for a small handout, just a tiny one to give me a boost in the right direction.
The breadcrumb he gives me is, “He’s already met with Nikitin. The guy was here early, before Sasha even made his phone call. That’s off the fucking record, Harps.”
“Of course it is,” I say, jotting down what he’s telling me into a small notebook because I’m old-school that way. “Is Ev still there?” I ask, not sure if I’m dreading a no or hoping for a yes.
“No,” he says, and the heavy sensation I feel in the pit of my stomach makes it clear I’d been hoping for a yes. “He left about twenty minutes ago. Arraignment is tomorrow. I’m guessing you’ll be there.”
“Front and center,” I tell him. “Thanks, Dev. I owe you one.”
“Just bring donuts with the coffee next time you come in, and we’ll call it even.”
I smile into the phone and say, “Deal,” before saying bye and hanging up.
The next several calls I make end with the typical no comment response I’d been expecting from the D.A.
and the NYPD's media office. No one wants to talk to journalists. Most people hate the press, and I can’t say I blame them.
We’ve got a bad reputation, earned by some really shitty reporters who will do anything to get the story.
They’ve really ruined it for the rest of us.
I put off the last call until I can’t avoid it any longer. When I hear Ev’s secretary answer the phone, I inwardly groan and close my eyes when I say, “Hello, could I please speak with Mr. Nikitin?”
“What is this in regard to?” she asks, and even though her voice is sweet enough, I know first-hand that getting past her is an impossible feat. She guards Ev like a protective mother who’s been taught by a SEAL team. I can’t help but respect the woman.
“This is Harper Reed with The Beacon. I was hoping I could get a comment from Mr. Nikitin about the Melnikov case.”
She’s kind enough to not outright laugh, but I swear I hear a snicker before she says, “He’s not taking calls at the moment.”
“Is there any way I could make an appointment?” I ask, willingly grasping at straws.
“He’s also not taking appointments right now.”