Page 51 of Power Play

“Really,” I tell him smoothly, thrusting away the insecurities that perhaps he wishes I was a little more like his ex-girlfriend. Straightening my shoulders, I add, “I was in it from the beginning for the story. But if you can’t find it in yourself to believe me when I tell you that the article you’re reading onTMZwas not meant to go live, then I don’t think there’s anything I can say to make this right.”

“Just answer me this.”

I incline my head, a subtle sign for him to continue. “Go right ahead.”

“Say I believe you when you tell me that my relationship with Gwen wasn’t supposed to hit mainstream media . . . Did you still write it, thinking at any point that it might be published byThe Tribune?”

The lie catches in my throat. However much I want to pretend that I never second-guessed my morals in the last few days, that wouldn’t be accurate. And so, sealing my coffin with the largest iron nail that there ever was, I whisper only one word.

“Yes.”

His expression shutters, as quickly as a candle being doused by wet fingers. “That’s all I need to know.”

“Duke, listen to me. I promise that I never intended for it to go anywhere.” I reach out a hand, then let it fall back to my side when he sidesteps me. “TheTMZpiece was never meant to see the light of day, never mind be published.”

His pulls out his Aviator sunglasses and slips them on to his face, effectively shutting me out. “Have a nice life, Charlie.”

I take one step toward him. “Duke—”

“No, Charlie. Find someone else to play your head games. I’m no longer interested.”

And with that, he stalks off toward his truck.

Leaving me to wonder at the pain throbbing in my chest, and the worry that I may have done the unthinkable—I may have let myself get in too deeply with Duke Harrison.

Chapter Fifteen

“Iquit.”

Josh’s jaw practically unhinges as he stares up at me from his desk the very next morning. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” I place my printed resignation letter on his desk. “I quit.”

“You can’t justquit,” he grunts, panic effusing his tone with a tremble he can’t hide. For the first time, I realize that I hold an ace.The Tribuneis already crumbling. My departure, however unimportant at another newspaper, would mean the death of this one. “If anything,” Josh adds, “Ishould be the one firingyou.”

“Too late.” I tap the sealed envelope on his desk that contains my three hundreds words to Freedom. “I’ve already resigned. Considering the circumstances, I don’t believe that I owe you a two weeks grace period. You understand.”

He lurches to his feet and thwacks his Sox hat on the desk. “You’re fired, Denton.”

I’ve been working for an idiot for the last three years. “Josh,” I say slowly, in case he’s been having a rough morning, “You can’t fire someone after they’ve already quit. That’s not how this works.”

“Your writing is shit, Charlie. You won’t find a job anywhere else than atThe Tribune.”

Ah, manipulating tactics. How surprising.

Not.

“I’ll find something,” I tell him coolly, already picking up my bag from where I’d placed it on a grungy chair. I’ll tell you this. I am so effing ready to be on my way out the door. Who knew that quitting would feel so liberating?

I get halfway to the door when Josh speaks again. “I got news this morning thatThe Huffington Postpicked up your article on Harrison.TheHuffington Post,Denton. This could be career changing for you. Harvey Levin fromTMZalready reached out to tell me he wants more of the same sort of leads from us. You could turn this into a regular gig, picking up intel on the Blades, and contributing toTMZunderThe Tribune’sname. Think of the possibilities.”

Except that my “in” with the Blades is no longer speaking to me. Unsurprisingly, Duke has ignored my Twitter DMs. (It’s crazy that we have yet to exchange phone numbers, and at this point, we never will).

To Josh, I say, “I’m not interested in that sort of journalism.”

“Harvey loved your article on Harrison.”

My hands close into fists at my sides. “Yeah? Well, did you tell him that you stole that article and published it without my permission?”

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