Unravel Me. Lynn Montagano

Unravel Me - Lynn  Montagano


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that delicious British boyfriend of yours?”

      I couldn’t help but smile. Alastair Holden always had that effect on me. “He’s good. He flew back to Glasgow though. I guess they needed him at headquarters.”

      She let out a low whistle. “Hot, English and the head of a media company. Can you and I trade lives for, like, ten minutes? Don’t tell Ray.”

      “Sydney!” I laughed.

      “Will he be back soon? I can tell you miss him like crazy.”

      “I hope so.”

      Mindful not to abuse the keys anymore, I finished typing the intro and sent a message to my executive producer, Jeanie, so she could take a look. An alert from the Associated Press dinged on everyone’s computer like a warped version of Carole of the Bells. Amid the chaos, my desk phone rang.

      “Lia Meyers,” I answered a little more haughtily than normal.

      “I want to offer you an exclusive interview.”

      The low voice with a slight rasp made me sit up straight.

       Jesus.

      “I’m not interested, Nathan,” I grumbled, pissed off that my ex-boyfriend had the balls to call me at work. Or at all.

      “You should be.” His smugness seeped through the phone. “I’ve considered every station in Orlando but want to give it to you.”

      Stretching back in my seat, I took a deep breath. Securing an interview with him would rank highly with my news director. Bruce loves this exclusive shit, especially when it involves a U.S. senator’s son who also happens to be an influential businessman.

      “What’s it about?”

      “Still as inquisitive as ever,” he chuckled.

      If I could have reached through the phone and torn out his vocal cords I would have done.

      “It’s a perfectly normal question to ask. What is it?”

      “Some damaging information has come to light about a prominent figure. That’s all I can say right now without giving too much away.”

      I squirmed in the chair. His pompous attitude irked me.

      “Alright,” I said. “How do you want to do this?”

      “Have dinner with me tonight and we’ll discuss the details.”

      I drummed my fingers on the desk. “There’s always an underlying scheme with you, isn’t there?”

      He laughed. “Come on, Sparkle. It’s a business meeting. My treat, of course.”

      “We don’t need to have dinner to finalize an interview. We can hash it out right now on the phone.”

      “No, we can’t.” His tone was clipped. “I have a conference call that started five minutes ago. Felicia will email you with the restaurant information. I’ll see you at eight.”

      He killed the call before I had a chance to react. Dinner with him? My skin crawled. I didn’t want to be in the same city as him, let alone share a table at a restaurant. A notification appeared in my inbox. Grimacing, I read the message from his assistant. He’d made reservations at Norman’s in the Ritz. Our restaurant. Rubbing my temples I stood up and walked to Bruce Singleton’s office.

      “Lia. I was just going to call you.” My news director hunched over his computer, squinting at the screen. All the frizzy mad scientist hair on his head bobbed as he nodded at an invisible request. “Sit, sit.”

      “I’ve heard from Nathan Greyson.” I didn’t wait for Bruce to initiate whatever it was he wanted. “He says he’ll give us an exclusive interview about something. Did you reach out to his public relations team recently?”

      “No. Did he tell you what it was about?” Bruce eyed me curiously.

      My mind raced. What does he want?

      “Something about information coming to light involving a prominent figure. I’m going to meet, um, call him back later. As soon as I know anything more, I’ll fill you in.”

      We chatted for a few minutes about the evening show before I went back to my desk. I had some down time before the broadcast went live and decided to call Stephanie.

      “Hey,” she answered after the first ring.

      “Hi.”

      The awkward pause between us made me cringe.

      “What are you doing tonight?” She broke the silence first. I slumped in my chair.

      “I’m supposed to have dinner with Nathan, believe it or not.”

      “Are you shitting me? Why?”

      “He wants to give us some exclusive interview about something,” I sighed.

      “So where does the dinner come in all this?”

      “You know him. There’s always an ulterior motive.”

      “Are you going?”

      “I don’t know.”

      “What do you mean you don’t know? You’re not going. Simple as that.”

      I tapped my fingernails on the desk. “If it were just him asking me to dinner, obviously I wouldn’t go. But this is—”

      “Lia, he’s an asshole. If he wants to give you guys an interview you can talk to him on the phone about it. He knows that. You know that. Come on.”

      I’d just about had it with Stephanie’s attitude in recent days so her proclamations, although correct, pissed me off. I’m not a helpless animal.

      “Look, I appreciate your concern or whatever but I’m going. End of story.”

      “Do you need me to book a table at the same restaurant in case he tries something?”

      “No. Your covert operations aren’t necessary but thanks.”

      Silence. Again. My eye twitched.

      “Did Alastair go back to Glasgow?”

      “Yeah. He left this morning.”

      “That was quick,” she muttered. “How long was he here? Two weeks?”

      “Yep.”

      “Well, be careful,” she said, sounding grim. “I still don’t trust him.”

      “Let’s not start this again, okay?”

      “I can’t help it, Lia. It’s like you’re ignoring everything that happened at the estate.”

      “We’re working through all that,” I said, my jaw tight.

      “Right. I forgot. He collared you with a diamond necklace and all of a sudden he’s Prince Charming.”

      “He didn’t collar me.”

      “Whatever. He’s manipulating you. He’s using your feelings for him to control you.”

      I played with the diamond-encrusted ‘A’ hanging from my neck. “And you know this how? You barely acknowledged him when he was here.”

      “I hear things. His reputation isn’t the greatest when it comes to women.”

      “You hear things. From who? Darren?”

      “No.” She paused. “Cassie.”

      I rolled my eyes. Cassie Zanor was the graphic design manager at the company that recently hired my best friend, Stephanie. They happened to be located in Glasgow and did most of the marketing campaigns for Alastair’s company. For some reason, Stephanie had been taking everything this girl said as gospel.

      “She doesn’t know


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