Page 85 of Love on the Byline

“Are you sure wardrobe doesn’t mind?”

“I liberated it from the shuttered wardrobe of a cancelledcable network series.” Lucy fussed with the side zipper. “You should thank me.It could have ended up in a landfill somewhere.”

“Aww, Luce. I had no idea you were a conservationist,” shesaid, gasping when Lucy closed the last inch of the zipper. “Ooof. It’s tight.”

“Too tight?”

Draping low in the front, it showed off more cleavage thanshe had ever dared. The back was almost identical, dipping low with the sidesheld together by a rhinestone chain. The hem fell mid-thigh and made her legslook longer than they were.

“A little?”

“Take shallow breaths and don’t eat a morsel,” she wasinstructed. “I have to say, you wear it well.”

A pair of black Louboutin knockoffs, complete with redsoles, and crystal drop earrings finished the look. For an extra touch, she’dadorned her right wrist with her mother’s rose gold bangles.

“I can’t believe you’re going to one of the hottest eventsof the season,” Enid said as she leaned against the doorframe. “Are you atleast going to tell me who invited you? Is it for work?”

“I really can’t say who, but yes. It’s for work.”

“A story?” Enid’s dark eyes went wide. “Are you goingundercover to snoop on the rich and beautiful so you can eviscerate them in thepaper?”

“Wow, bloodlust much?”

“I admit, I get a perverse thrill out of what you do,” Lucysaid. “And that makes me sound like a horrible human being.”

“I don’t know about horrible. There’s something aboutwatching the people we put on pedestals come crashing down that fulfills somedark need in people.” She stepped into the bathroom to apply her mascara.

“Babes,” Lucy called out. “Your phone is pinging like a slotmachine. Please, make it stop.”

“Oh, thanks. Sorry!” She slipped off the shoes and sprintedto where she’d left the phone charging on the kitchen counter. She’d expected acall from Ollie, but it was an unknown number. “Hello?”

“Is this Blake Dillon?” The teen girl’s voice sounded shaky.

“Yes.”

“It’s Micah.”

It took a moment for her brain to pull up a memory of theyoung girl from Play L.A. “Micah, hi. Is everything okay?”

“I’m okay, but…um… Are you busy? Can you come meet me?”

Blake looked down at her outfit and rushed back to her roomto grab her shoes. “Actually, I have to go to—”

“Please, Miss Dillon.”

She stopped, shoes in hand. “Are you hurt? What happened?”She shook her head at Enid’s quizzical look.

“No, ma’am, but I, um…”

She could hear her heavy breathing on the other end of thecall. Waving Lucy over to help her, she unzipped the dress and shoved it into abag, along with her shoes. “It’s okay, tell me where you are, and I’ll be thereas soon as I can.”

She found Micah standing in the parking lot of thetwenty-four-hour diner, just where she said she’d be. The area was well lit,and the restaurant seemed to have a steady stream of patrons.

“Why didn’t you wait inside?”

“They don’t let you have a table unless you’re ordering, andI ain’t got no money to spare.” Micah folded her arms around herself. She wasdressed in an old school Raiders jersey, baggy jeans, and white tennis shoes.

“Are you hungry?”

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