Page 112 of Love on the Byline

They exchanged a nervous glance.

Ollie took a deep breath. “Maybe another time.”

Deflated, she nodded. “Sure.”

Silence descended, thick and fast, and she realized that wasall she was going to get from them for now.

Ollie poured himself a cup of coffee and held up the carafe,his brows raised.

“Sure, thanks.” She watched as he poured for her and thenwent back to his work.

While things were quiet, she opened her messages and lookedfor the name that Micah had given to her, Yara Bujold. Launching a new tab inher browser, she searched the web for a contact, shocked by some of the resultsthat came back.

Pop star, missing and presumed dead, turns up in Philadelphia

Music mogul Marcus Kaine freed on bail, awaits trial oncharges of assault and false imprisonment.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Something wrong?”

“No,” she reassured Ollie. He seemed unconvinced. Shechecked the time. It was noon in Philly.

“Do you mind if I make a call? I can go inside, if it willbother either of you.”

“Go ahead,” Bran said.

Ollie gestured for her to continue.

The only number she found for Bujold was a home in thesuburbs belonging to an older couple. Possibly related. There was also a noticeof an open mic night at a bar that Yara hosted. Blake decided to call therefirst.

“Skinners,” a guy answered after two rings.

“Hi, my name is Blake Dillion. I’m trying to reach YaraBujold, I hope I’m pronouncing the last name right.”

“Yara? Hang on.” Blake heard his next words from a distance,as if he’d moved the phone away. “Hey, is Cam here? Someone’s asking for Yara.Sounds like a lawyer or something.”

Blake jotted down the name, Cam.

“This is Camden Skinner, who am I speaking with?”

“Mr. Skinner, my name is Blake Dillon. I’m with the LosAngeles Gazette and I’m trying to reach Yara Bujold about a story I’m workingon.”

“What story?” His tone was decidedly less than friendly.

Ollie turned a quizzical look her way and was listeningintently.

“I’d prefer to talk about that with Ms. Bujold.”

“She’s my...” he hesitated. “We’re together. You can talk tome.”

As he spoke, Blake ran a quick search for Camden Skinner andcame across a photo of him and Yara smiling behind a bar she assumed was insideSkinners.

“I understand,” she replied quickly, happy to be dealingwith a protective significant other rather than someone who merely despised herprofession. “I’m writing a story about a company here in Los Angeles, DiamondMoon Enterprises, that has some shady dealing with minors wanting to break intothe entertainment industry.” She’d put it as delicately as she could.

There was a soft curse on the other end of the phone. “Thesepeople,” Skinner said. “Yeah, Yara will definitely want to talk to you. Isthere a number where she can reach you?”

“Of course!” she said, relieved. She gave Skinner hernumber. “She can call me anytime, I’m eager to move on this story.”

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