Page 1 of 7 Nights of Sin

Chapter 1

Caro

The late afternoon sun trickled in through the clouds, warming the small corner office I currently occupied.

My back was to the window, and my fingers flew across the keys of my keyboard as I typed out another proposal, hoping this might be the one that would change things for me.

For four years I had been with this firm, working my ass off, trying to make a name for myself. I was good at my job, I knew that much. I came in early and worked late, took every client I was offered, no questions asked. I had a high success rate, and people raved about my work when it was done.

And yet, I had been passed over for three promotions in the last two years, and I was tired of it. My career meant more to me than most people, and if I was ever going to get anywhere, then I needed to climb the ladder. I needed to be noticed.

A knock on the office door startled me out of my rhythm, and I glanced up to see Sam, my boss' executive assistant, standing outside the clear door, a rolled up magazine in her hand.

I beckoned her in, and cracked my knuckles, shaking my wrists out. I was sure my hands would be glad for a break from the frantic typing.

"What's up, Sam?" I asked her, leaning back in my chair.

"Let me ask you a hypothetical question," she said, twisting a lock of blonde hair around the finger of her free hand. "Say there was an athlete, big name, lots of deals. Well known in our circles. And let's say he got in a bit of hot water."

"What kind of hot water?" I asked her, arching an eyebrow. "And how hot?"

"Not boiling, per se, but pretty hot. Someone gave an interview that made him look real bad. Like, Drop the sponsorships so the kids don't find out their hero is a creep, bad."

I let out a low whistle. "That is pretty hot. What's the question?"

"How would you spin that?" she wanted to know. "Is he a lost cause, or can you save it?"

"Well..." I trailed off, taking some time to think. "Depends on the details. Who gave the interview, and how credible they are. If it seems like they're a good source, then all you can really do is try to repair the damage. It's a better use of time than trying to discredit whoever it is. He'd need to give some interviews of his own, make some appearances in the right places. Probably do some donations."

"Isn't that a bit obvious?" she asked me. "Like he's trying to cover his tracks?"

"Sure," I said, shrugging. "But that's the business. It doesn't matter if people can tell you're covering something up as long as what you do to cover it is bigger than what you're covering. No one expects these big names to be flawless, they just want to be able to feel good about sticking with them. That goes for sponsors and fans."

Sam nodded, a thoughtful look on her face. "Makes sense. And you think that would help?"

"It would be a start. The person in question would have to be on board, and they'd have to be willing to make some changes. No more doing stuff that leads to scandals, for one thing. People love a reformed sinner, so to speak."

"You're so good at this, Caro," Sam said with a smile. "Which is why I'm bringing this straight to you."

Before I could ask what 'this' was, Sam was tossing the magazine onto my desk.

I frowned as it unrolled, and the familiar face of Christine Williams smiled at me from the cover. It was the National Beat, a rag that was one step above a tabloid, and notorious for ruining the lives of celebrities when they reported things about them. However true or not they turned out to be.

They were widely read enough that people were influenced by the things they reported, and so it made sense that whatever the issue was, it started with the Beat.

But something cold like dread ran through me as I looked down at Christine's flawless face. She was a well-known actress, someone who had faded a bit from the spotlight over the years, but still held a fair amount of clout.

The issue wasn't with her. The issue was that I remembered who she used to be married to, and I was pretty sure I had a hunch who this scandal was about.

I opened the magazine anyway, flipping to the relevant section.

There was a picture first, of Christine standing in front of a window, gazing out of it with the light hitting her just right. Her face was supposed to convey some quiet strength or something, and I rolled my eyes at how manufactured it looked.

And below the picture was the headline: "Christine Williams-Porter Speaks Out About Her Heartbreak".

"Her heartbreak?" I said, making a face. "Sure. Okay."

"It's not a great article," Sam agreed. "But she's making some pretty bold claims against Kevin Porter. You know, the baseball star? Plays for the Empires?"

---