Page 18 of Broken Deal

I guess we’ll find out.

1 Cousin.

Max pops his head out of his office, snapping his fingers to get my attention. “Sophia, can I see you in my office for a minute?”

“Yup,” I say over my shoulder as I grab my planner and a pen, knowing full well this will take longer than a minute. It’s already bad enough I had to stay late on a Friday, now I have to deal with whatever misogynistic comments he’s going to throw my way.

I walk into his office, closing the door before sitting down. “What’s up?”

“This article about Lorenzo Mancini has me pulling my hair. Honestly, I don’t understand why he had to choose you. Sophia, I swear, if you fuck this up…” He shakes his head, not finishing the thought.

All I want to do is grab that Tom Brady signed football that’s sitting front and center on his desk and hurl it at his head for that comment.

Fuck it up?Seriously? That’s rich coming from him.

People often wonder how he’s the editor-in-chief. There have been rumors he slept with the VP ofVogue Elite, andothers say one of his family members is part of the executive board. The way he acts most of the time is questionable at best. Not only that, but he’s always been extremely unprofessional with women. This man is an HR liability. A lawsuit waiting to happen.

“I wonder what you did to have gotten this opportunity,” he murmurs to himself.

Misogynistic asshole, party of one.

I take a deep breath, quickly counting backward. Has this method ever worked for me? Not really. I’m not sure why I keep trying. To keep some of my sanity, I guess. To feel some sort of normality.

I clear my throat. “What can I help you with, Max?”

“Oh, right.” He shakes his head. “Sophia, I cannot stress enough how important this article is.”

I hold back my eye roll. “Yes, I know.”

“Okay, so what do you have planned?”

I’m silently thanking myself for deciding to do all this research. Otherwise, I would have been extremely unprepared, and that’s not the ammunition I want to give Max.

“I know you said you wanted to see behind the scenes of what it’s like to be a billionaire like him. But what if we take it a step further? Talk about his other accomplishments. He’s more than a simple rich man, there has to be a personality and a person behind all of that.”

He starts spinning his pen, pondering for a moment. “This seems risky.”

“High risk, high reward,” I point out. “This is Lorenzo Mancini we’re talking about here. He never speaks to the media. We need to take advantage of this opportunity and go in a different direction.”

To my surprise, Lorenzo has never done an interview. Everything you find online is gossip columns and peoplespreading rumors. It doesn’t matter how bad it gets, he doesn’t clear anything up. I’ve done enough research to back these claims and show Max the only thing that’s out there are baseless rumors. He has the typical playboy billionaire image. Doesn’t take anything seriously, but it’s successful nonetheless. It’s boring and tasteless. If I’m going to write this article, I want to do it the right way.

“I’ll run it by the higher-ups. In the meantime, you can start.” He points a finger at me. “But I also need you to work on what I originally wanted just in case, and a gossip column, of course. Then we will decide how to move forward. Oh, and before I forget, I need the articles I sent you fully edited and proofread by Monday.”

“Monday?” I ask, my voice taking on a high pitch. “You gave them to me yesterday.”

He drops his pen on the desk, leaning back in his chair. “Can your little brain not handle a tad more work?” He shakes his head with a laugh and murmurs, “Women.”

As I’m about to respond with what is sure to be a retort, my brain stops me.

It’s not worth it.

So I clamp my mouth shut instead. Of course, he’s going to drown me in work. But hey, I’m Sophia Evans, this is what I do. I letcertainpeople walk over me for no apparent reason.

I nod curtly, rising from the chair and striding out of his office. Anger is coming out of my pores, and now I don’t know how I’m supposed to get any work done. I’m so sick of letting people get away with shit. It’s ironic knowing I can be brutally honest and challenging when I want, but I can’t ever seem to put my foot down with certain people. Max is my boss—as in, he can fire me if he wants to. Amelia, well,she’s my little sister. She can be a total bitch, but I have to be the bigger person.

Angry tears fill my eyes, and I sniff, closing my eyes tightly and trying my best to make them go away. I don’t do well with emotions in general—anger, most specifically. It reminds me of my father. There was not a moment of peace at our house because of his unleashed wrath. Mom was always on the verge of a breakdown, Amelia was too little, and I…well, I coped in any way I could. Shutting down, mostly. I’ve learned how to hide my emotions well, so when they show up and try to find their way out, I push them down as hard as humanly possible.

You do not cry.

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