by Laura Pavlov
I chuckled. “I’ll be sure to remember that when I run into my mentor.” I had no crew with me, I’d just snuck out of the office to attend the rally solo.
His head tipped back in a chuckle of his own before his icy gaze locked with mine and a chill ran down my spine. “Careful, Stanford. You’ll need friends in high places.”
I forced a fake smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I don’t see a crew here with you. I noticed Dan Arbor from Montgomery Media up front with a whole slew of people. Why are you even here?”
I pulled the strap of my satchel over my head and shoulder and shrugged. “Call it curiosity. Just wanted to hear what he had to say.”
“I figured. Long road for you to get there, I’m sure.” He snickered.
I turned on my heels and headed for the office. I didn’t say goodbye or bother looking back, but I could feel his eyes boring into my backside as I left. The weasel’s creep factor was a solid ten. My skin crawled every time he was around.
I stepped off the elevator, and Sam, the assistant to both Ford and Jack, greeted me with a smile. “He’s waiting for you in his office.”
I was five minutes late, and I’m sure I’d hear about it.
“Thank you.”
I knocked on his door and he called out for me to come in.
“Sorry I’m late.” I dropped to sit in the chair across from his desk.
“Are you though?” he asked, running a hand through his thick dark hair. Jack Montgomery was a beautiful man—there was no denying it. And he knew it, which irritated me all the more.
“What do you mean? Of course, I am.”
“Why did you go to the rally? Dan was already there with his team.”
“I’m aware. But I write an anonymous political column as well, so I needed to be there to hear his speech,” I said.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, and I wondered what it would feel like to graze my fingertips over the dark scruff peppering his jaw. Yes, he was basically my nemesis. But hey, I hadn’t had sex in almost a year, and a girl could fantasize without acting on it, right? His eyes were an intoxicating whiskey brown with pops of gold and amber. His skin tan, lips full, and his body was a male masterpiece. It didn’t matter that he annoyed me, and his ego was as large as his big fat head. I still found him attractive. Hell, every woman within eye view turned to stare at the man wherever he went. I was only human, after all.
“Monroe.” He paused to study me.
“Jack,” I said, mocking him. The guy was a joker, but he did appear to take his job seriously, which surprised me. I’d only been here a few weeks, but he checked in relentlessly, and everyone here respected him.
“This has to stop. I know you’re Buck’s sister, but you need to show me some respect at the office. If you’re leaving, you need to tell me where you’re going. That’s how this works.” He motioned between us. His striking gaze drilled into mine, and my chest squeezed with something. Guilt? I wasn’t even sure. I’d been a jerk to him since I started, and he’d been nothing but nice to me. He was my brother’s best friend, I could cut the guy some slack.
“Okay. I’m sorry.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Just like that?”
“Yes. I’m not a complete asshole, Montgomery. I can admit when I’m wrong. It doesn’t mean I have to like you, but I can be respectful.”
His head fell back in laughter, and I couldn’t help but smile. The man was ridiculously handsome. He looked like a young Ryan Reynolds with darker hair. His laugh was infectious the way it bounced off the walls.
“I am curious why you despise me so much. I mean, I came to see you race, and I hooked up with some chick who hit on me. Is that a crime?” He folded his hands on his desk and waited for my response.
“You hooked up with Tiffany Crupp.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“See, I don’t even remember her name. What’s the big deal? It was years ago.”
“She hated me,” I said, shaking my head.
“Because you won that race that we came to?” he asked, studying me like I was about to tell him some sinister secret.
“I guess so. She’d been number one on our team all four years, and I came in as a freshman during her senior year, and I think she resented me for beating her. I don’t know. It’s not like I’ve won every race in my life. People beat me sometimes, it just made me work harder. I didn’t hate them for it. I blamed myself for losing, not others for beating me.”
His lips turned up in the corners and he nodded. “Hell yeah. I get that. You know, sports are competitive, and some athletes can’t handle losing.”
Jack was a collegiate phenom at the University of Southern California and was predicted to be a first-round draft pick when he surprised everyone and decided not to go pro after college. He understood the meaning of winning and losing better than anyone.
“I guess so.”
“So what? She hated you and in turn, you hated me for hooking up with her? That makes no sense.”
I wouldn’t tell him that I had a massive crush on him at the time, and told my teammate and friend, Gwen, and Tiffany overheard the conversation. She made it a point to hit on Jack and then rub it in my face. It didn’t matter. I hardly knew him at the time, and I got over my crush immediately—and traded it for some good healthy hatred for the guy.
“Maybe I just disliked you, did that ever cross your mind?”
“No one dislikes me. What can I say, I’m a likable guy,” he said, holding his arms out to the side.
“Why do you even care? We don’t need to be friends, Montgomery.”
“Well, you’re Buck’s little sister, we’re working together, seems we can get along, right?”
“Fine. I’ll make an effort to be more respectful.”
He laughed again before narrowing his gaze at me. “You’re an odd little bird, Monroe Buckley.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
“Okay, so, from now on you tell me when you’re going to a rally or to something for your anonymous column. We’re on the same team. I need to know what’s going on.”
“I don’t like being micromanaged,” I said, raising a brow in challenge.
“Then I guess you should work for yourself.”
I laughed. “Touché.”
“What did you find out about Senator Reynolds?”
“Aside from the fact that he’s a complete douchebag… nothing new.”
“Wow, tell me how you really feel,” Jack said with a laugh as he leaned back in his desk chair.
“Sorry, I forgot—you have a professional relationship with him.” I rolled my eyes.
“I’ve known him a long time, but that doesn’t mean I like him. It’s no secret that he’s got a wandering eye, but between you and me, I don’t think it’s a secret from Buffy either. She tolerates it because she likes the lifestyle that she’s living. Not sure why they’re even together, but it seems to work for both of them.” He shrugged.
“He’s not the first guy to cheat on his wife and he won’t be the last. But he threw his name in the hat to run for president, so he’s opened himself up to be scrutinized. Not the wisest move seeing he has a lot of skeletons in his closet.”
“More than what we already know?” he asked, and it surprised me that he appeared genuinely interested.
“Yeah, I believe so. I think he leads two lives—one for the public, and one for himself. And I’m fairly certain it’s much darker than what we know. I’d like to do a bit more digging into it and see if my instincts are correct.”
He smiled and leaned forward, forming a teepee with his fingers and resting them on his desk. “All right. But finish the article for this week first and keep me abreast on what you find.”
His response surprised me. I was prepared to battle him, and he’d been more than fair.
“Thank you. Will do.” I pushed to my feet and walked toward the door.
“Good work on the Reynolds stuff. Keep it up.” He winked.
Jack Montgomery was sweet—I’d give him that. Add that to his undeniable good looks, and it’s no surprise he had women dropping at his feet. But I was a big believer in the three-strike rule, and he had at least three strikes against him already.
He was my brother’s best friend.
He slept with my nemesis.
And he was my boss.
Three strikes and you’re out.
Jack Montgomery was definitely out.
Chapter Three
Jack
“I just received a call from Simon Reynolds inviting us to his yearly fundraiser at his home. I think he’s hoping to get our support,” Ford said, leaning back in his desk chair.
I popped in the last bite of my pumpkin donut and spoke over a mouthful of cake. “Damn, your wife makes the best fucking donuts.”
He shook his head and motioned for me to continue.
I took a sip of coffee to wash it down before speaking. “I think he’s got a shit ton to hide, and he’s opened himself up for a lot of scrutiny by throwing his name into the presidential race. Monroe went to the rally as well, and she’s definitely working on something. Even though her piece is anonymous, it’s in our paper, so we need to prepare for his wrath.”
He nodded. “Well, let’s hope Dan finds as much if not more than Monroe. We’re paying him a lot of money and he has all the resources at his fingertips. Sounds like she’s just a lot hungrier for the story.”
“She’s like a dog with a bone.” I rolled my eyes.
“How’s that going? I know she had a problem with you at the start. But the girl is definitely on a mission and there’s no stopping her,” my older brother said.
“We had a power struggle at first, but she’s been easier to work with this week. We had a heart to heart, and she actually seems to get it now. At least she’s checking in with me and keeping me updated on her whereabouts.”
“How’s the column coming? The one we’re actually paying her to write.”
“It’s good. Ready to go to print. Hell, she spent so much time researching Reynolds I don’t think she gave much effort to her column. She just writes that shit like it’s nothing and it’s fucking brilliant. She has her next three proposals to me already, and they all look solid. You know, the basics—dating life for twenty-somethings living in the city, fashion hot spots, and etiquette faux pas. I don’t know where she comes up with it, but the girl is talented. And her work ethic is insane. She beats me here every day.”
“Yeah, that’s why we had to fight hard to get her. She’s got a bright future ahead of her. And I think she’s going to draw in the Millennials and Gen Y age group. She’s exactly what we needed.”
“Agreed.”
“Everything else running smoothly in the newsroom?” he asked.
“Yeah. There’s a lot happening in the political arena, so let’s see what Dan Arbor and his team come up with. What do you want me to tell Simon Reynolds? Should we attend the party?”
“Hell yeah. And you’re going to have to go. Harley needs to get off her feet, for fuck’s sake. She’s carrying two babies, and she wants to keep working. Frustrates the hell out of me.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“Dude. She’s an independent woman. Hell, that’s part of what you love about her. She’ll slow down when it’s time. But let her do it on her own, don’t force it. She’s not going to do anything to put those little girls at risk, you know that. So just calm the fuck down and let her figure it out. And of course, I’ll go to the party. No worries at all.”
“Sounds good. Thanks for the advice. You do spend a shit ton of time in that bakery, so you’d tell me if you thought she was overdoing it?”
“Of course, I would. She’s not, but I’ll keep you posted.” I knocked on his desk before leaving his office.
I spent the next two hours walking the newsroom and listening to a few pitches. I stopped at Monroe’s office to find her engrossed in her work. I knocked on the open door before waltzing in and dropping down in the chair across from her desk. She’d made her office her own fairly fast. There were black and white prints on the walls with pops of pink. Her desk had a photograph of her and her father and Buck in a white shiny frame, and a fake floral arrangement sat beside it. She’d brought in her own white velvet desk chair, and her desk was tidy and neat.
“Well, just go ahead and make yourself at home then.” She glanced up and met my gaze. Such an odd little bird. Her eyes the darkest indigo, similar in color to a blue jay.
“Thanks. Don’t mind if I do. What are you working on?”
She pushed to her feet and moved to shut the door before returning to her desk. She leaned forward, eyes darting left and right as if she were about to tell me something sinister.
One could hope.
“I guess, seeing as you’re my boss and all, I need to share what I’m working on. But I don’t want anyone to know. You strike me as a bit of an over-sharer, with a gift for gab. I can’t have that.”
My head fell back in laughter. “It’s called being social. Speaking to other humans. You should try it.”
“I’m serious, Montgomery. I want to trust you. This can’t go anywhere.” She intertwined her fingers and settled her hands on her desk.
“Good Christ. I’m not going to tell anyone. Seeing as I own this paper, I actually want it to succeed.” I shook my head and tried to cover my smile.
“Okay. But if this story leaks, I’ll know it’s you because I haven’t told a soul. I mean, aside from my source.” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and I couldn’t help but notice how plump and pink they were. She was a pouty little thing, and her full lips turned down as the words left her mouth.
“I’m a vault when I want to be. Spill it, Buckley.”
“Senator Reynolds is into real kinky sex, not that I’m judging, but the kicker is… it’s not with his prim and proper perfect wife, Buffy. I’m talking back alley, dark, underground, S&M, career shattering, scandalous stuff.” She leaned back in her chair and rested one palm on her cheek as if she just couldn’t handle what she was telling me. Her blue eyes danced around the room, and her mannerisms were fast and sharp.
Was I surprised by this information? Sure. Not that he was cheating on his wife, because everyone knew that he was a piece of shit husband. But throwing his name in to run for president meant he’d be dissected to the nth degree. A guy with a dark sex habit including being unfaithful to his wife would be the first thing they’d expose. He was in his mid-forties playing family man with his wife and two kids for the public, all while leading a double life. He was digging his own grave.
I ran my hand over my day-old scruff as I contemplated the information. “I’m surprised he’d go to a public place that could be traced.”
She gasped. “I tell you the guy is a complete douchebag and you’re only surprised that he does it in a public place?”
“Listen. Simon’s an asshole. It’s no secret. But he’s sly, and he covers his tracks. I wouldn’t think he’d be stupid enough to engage in something that could be traced, that’s all I’m saying. He’s a pretty slick guy.”
She leaned forward and whispered as her gaze darted to the door to make sure no one was entering. “That’s the thing. This is an exclusive club, and it costs a small fortune to be a member. Only the richest of the rich can get in. They promise complete anonymity.”
I chuckled. She was cute as hell when she was conspiring. “So, how’d you find out then? I’m guessing the press is about to pounce on this. I’m sure Dan is all over it.”
“Trust me. He’s not. This is not public knowledge. My best friend Gwen’s, boyfriend’s, sister’s, roommate works at this club.” She raised a brow.
“What? That’s like saying your cousin’s, uncle’s, neighbor’s, grandmother knows a guy. How reliable could the source be when it’s that removed? You can’t run with a story with unreliable sources, Monroe. That’s not how it works.”
Her head fell back, and she groaned. “No duh, genius. This isn’t my first rodeo. But a tip is a tip.” She reached for her phone and held it up for me to see a blurry photo that definitely resembled Simon Reynolds. “She snapped this picture for me last night. He goes every Tuesday evening. He’s a regular. Apparently, he likes it rough. You know, the whole whips and chains and beating him senseless type of stuff. And he doesn’t go with his wife. He has a lady he sees there.”
“And how do you plan on exposing this?” I crossed my arms over my chest. For whatever reason, I felt protective over Monroe Buckley. Hell, she was my best friend’s little sister, for starters. And maybe it was her lack of fear—her desire to run into a burning building at whatever cost to get her story, that concerned me.
“I made an appointment for next Tuesday. I have to bring a hefty deposit, but I don’t mind putting the money up for this, because duty calls.”
“The hell you will.”
“Excuse me?” she huffed and pushed to her feet.
“You’re not going to that underground dungeon alone. Absolutely not. And we have funds for work-related expenses.” I raised a brow and dared her to challenge me. People often mistook my laid-back demeanor for passive. I was anything but. And when I wasn’t okay with something, there was no changing my mind. And I was most definitely not okay with Monroe Buckley going to a secret S&M club to expose a presidential candidate by herself. No fucking way that was going down on my watch.
“You can’t stop me.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stood in front of me.
“The hell I can’t. I’ll tell Buck, I’ll go public with the info and blow the story up, whatever I need to do to stop you from going.”
She narrowed her gaze and a little wrinkle formed between her eyes. Fucking adorable. “You wouldn’t.”
