Dating Games(101)

She holds my gaze for a moment longer, then turns, walking away. I open my mouth to argue, but it won’t do any good. After all, this is her magazine. If I want this promotion, I need to give her the story she wants…and then some.

Mentally exhausted, I return my attention to my laptop, opening the file I’d amassed on August Laurent and the handful of women who agreed to let me interview them. My notepad in hand, I scour through everything once more, searching for something I may have overlooked or deemed unimportant. The more I review my email exchanges and phone conversations with August, the more it hits me. He seemed to evade all my questions about his younger years, often shifting the focus back on me. It almost reminds me of how Julian used to do the same thing until I convinced him to open up.

As I consider what I can do to persuade August to share what caused him to get into this line of work, Chloe flies into my cubicle, her eyes wide, expression grave. “Did you hear?”

“Hear what?” I peer at her, brows furrowed. This level of excitement could mean Diego in accounting finally asked out Rachel in design. Or it could be actual news.

“Sonia Moreno was murdered. She was a friend of Julian’s, wasn’t she? I thought I saw a photograph of them together at some fundraiser earlier in the year.”

Blinking repeatedly, my heart drops to the pit of my stomach as a chill rushes over me.

“Yes,” I answer in a small voice. But her connection to Julian isn’t what has me out of sorts. It’s the fact that she’s a client of August Laurent’s. And not just any client. A woman who claimed he saved her from an abusive marriage. During a few follow-up interviews, she mentioned she was getting her affairs in order before going public with her abuse and officially filing for divorce. I wonder if she finally did it.

“How was she killed?” My voice trembles, tears forming in my eyes. She seemed so confident, so happy, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders at the thought of starting over, even if she never worked another day in Hollywood again.

“Details are still sketchy, but a few of my sources say she had stab wounds covering her chest and abdomen. Police are operating under the theory it was a burglary gone wrong. She’d just returned from being on location for the past month, so authorities think her place had been scouted for a break-in. She must have surprised them by being home.”

I shake my head, my heart squeezing under the weight of everything I know. It could have been a robbery, but my gut tells me it’s not. Not after everything Sonia shared with me.

Jumping to my feet, I grab my coat and my bag, needing to do something, anything. I can’t remain silent about this.

“Where are you going?” Chloe calls after me.

I whirl around, meeting her questioning stare. She probably came into my cubicle to share the juicy gossip before it hit the airwaves. Never could she have predicted my response, or the fact I may hold the missing link to what happened. I refuse to believe Sonia went through everything she did, survived everything she had, just for some thugs to kill her. It’s too much of a coincidence.

“I have to go.” It’s all I can tell her, at least for now.

I spin on my heels, about to race to the elevator when Viv approaches, her own expression frantic. She doesn’t even have to utter a word. I know she’s here because of the news about Sonia. Viv is the only other person who’s aware of the identity of the women I interviewed, including everything they’ve been through.

“It’s okay.” Her voice is a low whisper. She squeezes my biceps, giving me a reassuring smile. “Go. Be her voice.”

I nod, then hurry from the office, doing everything to keep my emotions under control. I barely knew the woman, but in the brief time we spent together, I felt a connection to her. I can only imagine how August feels, if he even knows.

I stop in my tracks, imagining him watching this story break on the news. I can’t stomach that. No one deserves to learn about the death of a loved one that way. So I reach out to him the only way I can.

To: August Laurent

From: Evie Fitzgerald

Subject: Sonia Moreno





Dear August,

Please call me as soon as you receive this message. It’s about Sonia. News just came over the wire. I’d rather tell you over the phone instead of through email.





E





I stare at my phone the entire ride toward Police Plaza, waiting for him to call.

He never does.

By the time the cab drops me off a block from police headquarters, news of Sonia’s death must have already spread. Reporters are camped out front, setting up cameras and preparing to go live to break the news, all for better ratings. As I hurry up the stairs and into the lobby, the place is a madhouse. Everyone passing appears as if they know exactly where they’re going. I’m lost and out of my element, unsure if I’m even in the right place or if they’ll take me seriously.

“Can I help you?” a woman asks in a thick New York accent as I look around.

I turn, my stare falling on a young brunette sitting behind a pane of what I imagine is bulletproof glass. My heart breaks a little at how far our society’s fallen that you can’t even feel safe in a police station anymore.

Straightening my spine, I step toward her. “My name’s Guinevere Fitzgerald. I work for Blush magazine.”