Page 8 of Love on the Byline

At seven on the dot, she knocked on his office door.

“You did good on the Karen K. story, kid,” Gideon said as hegestured for her to take the seat across from him. “Stewart said you madefriends with the hotel staff.”

The bills he pressed into her hands weren’t as crisp and newas the ones she’d pulled from the ATM to pay her last source, but she didn’tcare. It meant she could afford to replenish the pantry, or at least buy a fewthings to hide from her perpetually ravenous roommates.

“Just the woman at reception.” She adjusted her glasses.“Gid, I know you think it’s impossible, but if Sonja just—”

He held his hand up, effectively cutting her off, and heaveda sigh. “Before you force me to rehash all the reasons why you will not get thego-ahead from Sonja, I have a proposition for you.”

Blake slumped back into the chair. The thing was damned uncomfortable, and she squirmed. “This is the worstchair I’ve ever sat in.”

“Maybe, but it looks cool. Vintage.” He steepled his handson his desk. “How would you like to work on an in-depth exposé on one ofHollywood’s rising stars?”

“It sounds like you’re trying to dress up a shitpost.” Shewas aware of how whiny she sounded, but come on. “Is this why you dragged meout of bed at Hell o’clock in the morning?”

“This isn’t a shitpost, Dillon. I’m trying to give you whatyou want—a more important story.”

“Oh, right, a fluff piece on a talking head is a veryimportant story.” Insulted, she was already making a mental grocery list ofthings that didn’t need refrigeration. Pita chips, peanut butter. Lately, she’dbeen craving Tastykakes. She wondered if she could cajole her mother intosending a case from Philly and dug into her bag for her phone.

“Blake.”

“Huh?” When Gideon didn’t respond, she sighed and gave herboss her full attention.

Brows drawn together, he stood up and walked over to close thedoor before turning to lean against it. Arms crossed,he frowned down at her.

“What did you think would happen when you moved out here?”

“What do you mean?” she shifted in her seat.

“I just wonder how you thought this would go. You’d come totown with your expensive Ivy League degree, all your curls and dimples, andL.A. would roll out the red carpet for you?”

She wanted to argue that she’d barely been able to affordthe University of Philadelphia, even with scholarships and grants, but shedidn’t think that was his point.

“I thought I’d come here, pay my dues as a beat reporter,and see where things went from there.”

“A beat reporter?” Gideon said brightly. Too brightly. “A beat reporter. Well, damn.If I had known that I would have put you on the celeb beat— Oh, wait.”He held his hand to his chest in mock surprise. “I did!”

“Ha. Ha.”

Her editor walked over and collapsed into his chair. Hetapped on the desk. “Are you familiar with the Captain Sky franchise?”

“The one our mark is gunning for, right? Brent?” Gid pursedhis lips, and she scrambled to remember the name because she had read somethingabout this. It was a big deal. Branford? Bruce. “Brody…Camden?”

“Brandon Cody,” Gideon said, giving Blake a look thatwordlessly asked why am I keeping you employed?

She sat up straighter and tried to at least appear invested.Blake may have hated the assignments Gideon gave to her, but she was aprofessional and he was keeping food on her table. “Right. That’s who I meant.Brandon Cody. Big star. Huge.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Can you even name one of his films?”

She reached for one of the green notebooks in her bag,hoping against hope something in it would jog her memory.

“Without consulting your notes.” At her blank stare, he rana hand over his face. “I swear, sometimes I think you live under a rock.”

He wasn’t too far off the mark. “I don’t have a lot of freetime.” Or a TV, or any disposable income.

“I know blockbusters aren’t good enough for your literarymind, but surely you saw the big ass billboards all over town when the new Guardiansof the Sky film released last summer?”

“Well, no. I’ve only been in L.A. for eight months,remember?”

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