Page 118 of Her Greatest Mistake

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I did hear about your head. I hope you’re doing okay.”

“You can drop the act, Rose. I might be here to talk, but I’m not going to give you anything you can use unless you give me some answers. Let’s be honest with each other here.”

She blinks, her lips twisting as she pushes forward in her chair and folds her hands on her desk.

“And here I was hoping this would be a civil conversation,” she says bitterly.

“Oh, it can be. Are you ready to answer my questions?”

“What questions do you want answered?”

“Let’s start with your relationship with my father. How did you meet?”

“He came in after Maddox was seen outside of that bar. He said he had a story that would help put me on the map, one that would help guarantee me a spot at a bigger, better news outlet.”

None of that is surprising to me.

“And you just took his words and ran with them? You didn’t think to verify any of the claims?” I throw back.

She laughs, staring at me as if I’m completely clueless.

“Are you kidding? No. I took the story and ran with it. I’m a journalist writing for a tabloid, Braxton. I take what I get and hope that the story blows up. And that’s exactly what it did.”

“And journalists usually hire people to break into vehicles and bug them? You are aware that that’s a criminal offense, right?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“Are you saying you have proof of those claims?”

My lips part, a quick retort at the ready when I swallow it down, a commotion outside of the office stealing our attention.

“You can’t go back there, sir. She’s in a meeting!” the pretty receptionist shouts over the scuffle of feet on the floor.

“I know. And I’m about to be involved in that meeting,” Oakley snaps.

I spin around in the chair, my eyes widening when I see Maddox’s dad storm into the office, a dirty glare on his face. He steps up behind my chair and sets a hand on my shoulder, staring above me at Rose.

“Whatever it is you thought you were getting from Braxton today isn’t happening. You’re going to sit there and listen to what I have to say, and then you will never speak my son’s name or my daughter-in-law’s name again,” he states, confidence dripping from every word.

I don’t even have time to digest the label he just gave me before Rose is laughing, the sound grating.

“That’s a pretty big claim. It’s nice to meet you, Oakley Hutton.”

He snorts a laugh. “I bet it is.”

Rose’s face sours. “You are aware that you can’t just bust into other people’s interviews, correct?”

“Was there an interview? Or were you just talking out of your ass?”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing, and Oakley gently squeezes my shoulder as if he knows.

“Right. Well, if you came here to insult me, I would appreciate it if you left,” Rose says.

“Have you checked your email in the past few minutes?” Oakley asks her casually, and hell if that cold tone of voice wouldn’t have intimidated me if I were in her shoes.

She blinks, once, twice, and then her eyes are flying toward her screen, fingers tapping on the keyboard. It’s like watching the main character in a horror film peek out of the door to scan their surroundings, only to find the axed murderer waiting a few feet away. Her entire face goes alight with fear.

“Where did you get this? Who took these photos?” she breathes, wide eyes looking forward at the screen.

“Never underestimate the power of money, Rose. Threatening two very wealthy men while you have nothing might have been the biggest mistake you’ve ever made. Now, are you ready to talk about what happens next? Because I sure am.”

---