CHAPTER TWO
Edmund Keating didn’t want to be there any more than his sister wanted him there.
But their father had insisted he fly out to this Georgia town he’d never heard of to make sure his sister wasn’t blowing smoke up their asses again, and that she was, in fact, the newly-appointed editor of the Dillon Post-Dispatch newspaper in Dillon, Georgia.
His assignment was simple: First, make certain the paper actually existed.
Then, second, make sure it was a real job and not just another charade in a long line of charades her sister perpetrated on them.
She was older than Edmund by nearly five years, but she was so young at heart that the family viewed her as dangerous to herself.
And very susceptible to everybody’s cons and schemes.
Especially when those bastards found out that she hailed from one of the wealthiest families in the country.
Edmund, with his bodyguard and driver still outside waiting for him since he had no intentions of staying very long, sat against the wall in a chair and watched Natasha work.
She still had that amazing charm about her despite that undisciplined life she chose to live.
But she wasn’t fooling Edmund. He knew her too well.
But she was impressing the hell out of those hicks in that room.
They were in the home of the paper’s publisher, and although it was nothing compared to Edmund’s lifestyle or even Natasha’s before the family all but disowned her, it was a nice, beautiful home.
And it helped to add legitimacy to the fact that his sister just might be trying to get her shit together, after all, and wasn’t pretending so that she could get back into the family’s good graces.
But he still had his doubts as he watched her.
But mostly he hated being there at all. He was bored to tears.
But then a young woman entered the house that immediately caught his attention. Not because there was anything more remarkable about her than anybody else, but because she was the first person of color he’d seen since arriving at that party. That was notable to him.
But also notable was the way she moved around the room. She was being polite, those were apparently her colleagues at that party, but she was being standoffish too. Like she knew those weren’t her kind of people and she wasn’t theirs. But they all played the game.
He also noticed how many of those same white guys that he’d heard earlier disparaging every black person they knew, were breaking their necks to try to get next to the new arrival.
Edmund understood why. She had a style about her that was a draw.
Slender, but with curves. Pretty, but not so dolled-up that she lost her natural beauty.
She was more the girl next door than the bombshell.
But what the bombshells didn’t know was that men preferred the girl next door.
That was why the bombshells were looking at that young lady, then looking at themselves, and then wondering what the fuss was about.
Edmund knew exactly what the fuss was about as he watched that young lady, in her peach-colored cocktail dress and heels, move around that room like she knew what she was doing.
And to her credit, Edmund thought, she didn’t care what those men preferred because she flat wasn’t interested.
She turned down those dweebs without even trying to go along with their nonsense. She was not that girl.
And that was what kept Edmund’s attention riveted on her.
She was an oddity in that room and she knew it.
It would have been so much easier, he felt, for her to go along to get along.
But she didn’t do it. And the more she refused to do it, the more he liked her.
And the more he looked at her, the more he began to feel that attraction too.
Which was outrageous to the extreme for Edmund. She wasn’t his type at all.
But Maude wasn’t trying to be anybody’s type when she walked into that magnificent home.
It was the home of the big boss: their publisher.
But Maude was just trying to make an appearance and leave.
And although it was supposed to be a party honoring their brand new city editor, it felt more like a frat party because of the overabundance of horny males trying to hit on the few females in attendance.
Including Maude. But the only reason she was at that party was because it was mandatory that the staff, including all reporters, do a meet and greet with their new editor.
She met the lady, shook hands with the publisher and the managing editor too, but then she slipped away from all of that brass as fast as she could.
What Edmund also noticed about her was that she was constantly checking her phone. He wondered if it was a nervous gesture, a gesture to ease her boredom, or for real.
It was for real. Maude was waiting for a text from a source that promised to provide her with details about an illicit affair between the mayor and his wife’s best friend.
Which was bad enough. But the affair wasn’t Maude’s interest. She was a hard-hitting journalist, not the morals police.
But that same source told her that the mayor’s mistress had been given a lucrative government contract after just setting up her company less than a month ago.
But somehow she “won” the bid. That part of the story was in Maude’s wheelhouse. But she needed facts, not rumors.
She continued checking her phone as she moved around the room. She eventually ended up standing a few feet beside Edmund’s chair, although her face was buried in her phone and she didn’t notice him.
But Edmund noticed her. And because it was the closest she had been to him, he glanced over at her body.
She was killing it in that dress she wore as it hugged every curve of her slender frame.
And her ass wasn’t flat like a lot of the ladies in that house, but hers was full and tight.
Just like he liked it. And those legs. He couldn’t get over those legs.
Unlike the skinny, birdlike legs all over the place, hers was tight and full and shapely like her ass, and they looked so velvety-smooth that he knew everything else beneath those clothes were too.
He couldn’t take his eyes off of those legs.
But when she glanced over and caught him looking at her, she rolled her eyes with that get lost, creep look on her face. Then she turned her back to him and leaned her shoulder sideways against the wall. And continued to check her phone.
He smiled. He was caught in the act! But he didn’t give a shit. He was just admiring the view.
“Hey Maude.”
Two of her female colleagues came and stood against the wall on either side of her.
Edmund looked at them both. They were attractive ladies too.
So her name was Maude. It fit her, he thought, but it didn’t fit her too.
Because it seemed to him to be an old lady’s name although she was far from old.
But she had that old-school look about her.
“What are you up to?” the second reporter asked her.
“Waiting for a source to give up the goods.”
“That’s what we do,” said the second reporter. “The absolute worst part of the job.”
“And the most rewarding if it works,” said Maude. Then she waved her phone around. “But nothing so far.”
“Maybe I should text him,” the second reporter said.
“Will you give it a rest for two minutes, Maude, my goodness,” said the first reporter. “It’s always work with you. Work. Work. Work. Your ass need a man. You don’t know how to turn it off.”
“But this is different,” said Maude. “This could be the biggest story of my career if it checks out.”
“You’re always saying that,” said the first reporter dismissively.
“Always,” agreed the second one.
Maude felt the sting of their dismissiveness, but decided to move on. “What do you guys think about our new editor?”
“What do you think about her?” asked the first reporter. She wasn’t employee of the month three months running for nothing. She knew how to turn a question around.
“She’s aw’ight,” Maude said.
“She seems kind of stuck-up to me,” said the second reporter. “Like she’s better than us. Like we’re down here and she’s way up there.”
“That’s how she seems to me too,” said the first reporter as if she turned that question around to get Maude on record as the odd one out. In addition to employee of the month, she was also the queen of triangulation. She was no friend of Maude’s.
Maude, instead, texted her source anyway.
“Who are you texting?” the first reporter asked her and before Maude could respond, she snatched her phone out of her hand to see for herself.
“Give that back!” Maude yelled and attempted to snatch her phone back.
But it was too late. Her colleague saw the name and the number. She looked at Maude with fire in her eyes. “You stole my source!”
When she spoke so loudly at Maude, Edmund looked over as Maude snatched her phone back from her colleague. “Girl get out of my face. I didn’t steal anything.”
“But he’s my source! Why would you call my source?”
“I didn’t call him. I didn’t even have his number. He called me. And how would I know he was a source of yours? He never mentioned you!”
“That’s all y’all good for is to steal. Always stealing!” the first reporter said and then violently pushed Maude so hard that Maude stumbled backwards until she hit the arm of Edmund’s chair and falling over. She ended up slamming down, seated sideways, onto his lap.
But Maude didn’t hesitate. As soon as she landed, she was about to jump back up and handle that woman.
But Edmund immediately placed his arm around her waist, with his big hand resting on her stomach, and effectively stopped her from moving.
“Don’t you go down to her level,” he said to her. “Don’t you dare.”