Page 6 of The Firefighter's Fate

And I’m freaking good at it.

2

EMBER

“Hello, Clarice.”

The brunette woman behind the reception desk smiles at me as I say her name when I step through the glass revolving doors. Clarice is so pretty, with her big eyes and lovely smile. I’m glad I’ve got her name right. I’ve been playing a little secret game to myself - trying to make sure everyone’s name in this building is firmly stuck in my mind before the end of the year, and I’m slowly getting there day by day. Like with everything in life, I like to pay attention to those small kind of details – it’s an important value of mine. Names are top of the list. I have a deep-seated need to be friendly with the people I work with, all the way from the cleaners up to my editor boss. Everyone deserves respect.

“Good morning, Ember.”

I walk past reception to the elevator, where I jab at the button for my office’s level.

There are a billion buttons to push on this elevator panel. This building is one of the tallest skyscrapers in the city, and every single level in this place is dedicated to the Penmayne media empire, run personally by Waylen Penmayne himself. The billionaire has one of the largest media networks in the world, and certainly in America. He started this company from nothing decades ago and has made it into the colossal influential beast it is today. This entire skyscraper is his baby.

And I work here, as an investigative journalist. I love my job; it’s what I always wanted to do growing up. I’ve honestly not even considered another occupation at all, ever. As a little girl, I would dress up my dolls and interview them just as I saw on the news every night, so yeah, it’s safe to say I’m living my dream every day.

As I press the button for my level, I can’t help but notice the very top button - Level 100. That’s Waylen’s own personal office. No one from the lower levels ever gets summoned up there and survives. They are never seen working in the media field again. I’ve witnessed a few disappearances from my team before – people called up for a private meeting with the head honcho and never seen again. Okay, so I’m sure he doesn’t get rid rid of people he doesn’t like, but he certainly gets rid of them. I’ve had the fortune of never meeting the man myself. I have glimpsed him a few times from across a crowded room, but I have never exchanged words with the scariest man in media. He has a fearsome reputation, to put it lightly. As with that senator Joseph Wilson, I’m not too unnerved by powerful people, but Mr. Penmayne is a clear exception.

Arriving on my level, I head straight for the editor’s office. I barge right on in. I know my boss Penelope Garcia isn’t conducting a meeting at the moment, so I’m sure she doesn’t mind me bursting in like this. She knows who I am and how I operate.

Unlike Waylen Penmayne, I’m not scared of her.

Penelope looks up at me from her computer once I’m in her office. Her long brown hair is neatly tied back. Her dark brown eyes are fixed on me expectantly. She’s got to this position not through connections or nepotism, but by sheer smarts, and I admire the hell out of that.

And she loves to worry about me. No matter where I am, and no matter how safe I feel, she thinks that I am always on the verge on getting myself into trouble.

Most of the time she’s right.

“You’re back, Ember?” she asks. “I’m pleasantly surprised you’re in one piece. So, that grubby senator didn’t eat you alive?”

I chortle confidently.

“I’m sure he would very much have liked to chew me up and spit me out, but I’m here now.”

“Damn, I’ve lost a bet. Tell me, how did it go?”

“Very damn successful,” I reply with sparkles in my eyes. “We got great footage, Penelope.”

“Yeah?”

“Really great stuff,” I explain. “We can nail the bastard. You’re in for a treat.”

“You’ve got him?” she asks. “You’re sure? He’s a powerful person, so this better be airtight.”

“I don’t know a thing about fishing, but even I can safely say we’ve got him hook, line, and sinker.”

“Yes, Ember. Well done.”

“I knew our research was good, and it really worked for us in the end,” I say. “We’ve got him for everything, boss. Corruption, bribery, insider trading. The lot. He’s got no defense. We’re going to put away a bad guy for good, Penelope. This is why I entered journalism.”

“Excellent.”

“I’m feeling really good about this one,” I whisper. “There’s been a lot of hard work, but it has paid off in such a spectacular way.”

My editor nods.

“Show me what you’ve got,” she commands.

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