Frisk Me(9)

Ava dug out a gummy worm from Mihail’s stash and ignored him. The guy was one of her best friends, nasty cigs and all, but she was tired of this conversation. It brought up unsettling thoughts she had no interest in dealing with.

She did want to be anchorwoman. She did. And Mihail was right in that Ava tended to choose the scrappy, real stories, no matter how small, over the more glamorous, attention-grabbing ones. That was about to change.

This was her break.

A gorgeous, big-city cop with a heart of gold was exactly what she needed. It was a huge story, with a big audience.

Even with NYPD being under a few shadows right now thanks to that unfortunate shooting a few months back, the Luc Moretti story appealed on every level, to every viewer.

Big city folk were partial to first responders, especially after 9/11. Small-town people liked cops, period.

And everyone liked a hero.

Especially a good-looking one.

As far as poster boys went, it didn’t get more perfect than Luc Moretti in all of his tall, dark, good-guy handsomeness. No hot-blooded straight woman could look at that guy and not fantasize about what he looked like under that uniform.

Ava included.

She dug her nails into her palm, trying to forget about the way every part of her had seemed to tingle when they’d stood toe to toe in Captain Brinker’s office.

“So how cooperative do you think Moretti will be?” Mihail asked, cutting off a taxi just because he could.

Ava went for another gummy worm. “Not at all.”

Mihail glanced at her. “Yeah?”

She shrugged. “I dunno, something was up with him.”

“Explain.”

“I don’t know yet,” she said, tugging at the gummy worm.

“Maybe he just doesn’t like being in the spotlight,” Mihail said.

“Deep down, everyone wants to be in the spotlight,” Ava muttered, staring out the window. “Everyone wants glory.”

She felt Mihail cut her another look. “The cynical, storm-cloud thing is supposed to be my shtick.”

“I’m not cynical!”

Mihail snorted.

“I’m not! I just don’t buy for one second that Luc Moretti isn’t secretly patting himself on the back for all of his recent good deeds.”

Moretti had secrets all right, but they were more complicated than Mr. Too-Sexy-For-His-Own-Good wanting to keep his good deeds under wraps.

If he was reluctant, it was probably because he’d have to cooperate with her. Guys like him didn’t like it when a woman didn’t turn into a simpering mess in their presence.

She’d come close to simpering, though. Really close. Those deep blue eyes were a jolt to the system, more so because they were a surprise given his dark hair and Italian coloring.

But Ava hadn’t kissed Moretti’s ass during their run-in three years ago, and she wasn’t about to start now.

“So what’s he like then?” Mihail asked.

Ava jolted. “Hmm?”

“The cop. The hero one…what’s he like?”

Gorgeous.

“He’s perfect for the story,” Ava said with a shrug. “The camera will love him.”

Mihail tapped long fingers against the steering wheel. “So did he say why he did those things? Jumping into the river, giving his coat to the homeless guy?”

Ava groaned at the admiration in Mihail’s voice. “Not you too.”

“What?”

“You actually think he’s a hero?”

“I mean we don’t have to get f*cking romantic about it, but the guy went above and beyond. He deserves a little credit.”

Ava rolled her eyes and chomped grumpily on a green gummy worm.

She could grant that the guy had done a couple of good deeds. Okay, really good deeds.

But she couldn’t stop thinking about that haunted look on his face after he’d saved the little girl.

Nor the panicked look when he’d learned that she was with CBC.

There was a story there. She was sure of it.

She just wasn’t sure it was the feel-good story the network wanted her to tell.





CHAPTER FOUR



What do you mean CBC’s doing a story on you?”

Luc took a grumpy sip of coffee before he met his father’s dark gaze. “Is there a way I could rephrase to be more clear?”

Luc’s sister leaned over to snag a piece of Luc’s toast before pointing the toast triangle at their father. “It’s true. Luc was quite clear with his word choice. And I’m a lawyer so I should know.”

Tony Moretti scowled and propped a piece of bacon on top of a piece of biscuit. Then he dragged the whole thing through a puddle of gravy under the exasperated glare of Luc’s mother. He took a bite and chewed as he glared at Luc and Elena. “Don’t you two get smart with me. What I want to know is why are they doing a story now? You’re old news.”

Anthony leaned over and grabbed the remaining piece of Luc’s toast. “It’s nice when he builds us up like this, isn’t it, bro?”

“So nice,” Luc muttered, taking another sip of his coffee.

His mother caught his eye. “I think what your father is trying to ask, Luca, is why you’re agreeing to a story when you’ve been unhappy with all the media coverage.”