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and who he’s fucking this week?”
     
    Devin’s lips tightened. “Look,” he said, and Zoey braced herself. “If this isn’t what you want to do with your life, I can find someone else. I’m trying to help you out, Zoey. You’re good, but you’re not irreplaceable. No one is, not anymore. Not you, and not me. I have to keep my numbers up too, remember.”
     
    She rubbed at her temples again, and then smiled like Mama had taught her. “I know, Devin. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be ungrateful. I just thought we were going in a different direction, that’s all. I’ll get the profile, and it’ll be great. For both of us.”
     
    Devin nodded. “Make sure. Wear something low cut to the interview. He’s a tits man.”
     
    It wasn’t exactly possible to hang up on someone with Skype—there was no satisfying thump or the buzz of an empty line—but he didn’t bother to say goodbye before he disconnected the chat.
     
    She knew she was being ungrateful. There wasn’t really any question about that. But God—this wasn’t what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. She was sick of gossip pieces and trashy exposes. Hell, at this point, writing about a congressman who was screwing his aide would be a step up in the quality department.
     
    If only there was a way to go home without looking like a dog with her tail between her legs. If there was a way to handle the inevitable sniffs of satisfaction. Local girl heads to city and can’t hack it, laughs all around. If she could get one good piece under her belt, one serious article, she could tell everyone that she was going to continue to work on her career from home, where she could get good jambalaya and the music made sense. Where the town didn’t stink all summer long, even if it was hot and sweaty.
     
    Her inbox blinked with a new message. She clicked over, and saw a series of forwarded articles and links from Devin about AEGIS, Philip Blankenship, and Alexander’s playboy life style. She got out the tablet that Daddy had sent her last Christmas, and starting making notes. Background information, likely questions, all of it. Maybe she’d get enough to put together the piece on AEGIS she’d been thinking about. It wouldn’t be something Devin could use, but Helen might be able to make it work. It was worth thinking about, anyway. She already had the interview scheduled, and she’d found over the years that getting the facetime with the source was sometimes the trickiest part.

 
    CHAPTER
     
    Everything about AEGIS put Zoey on edge. The building was sky high, with an opulent entrance and someone in uniform to push the elevator button for her, so she wouldn ’t bruise her wee girly finger by pressing one whole button. It was New York decadence all wrapped up in one steel and glass package. People were starving, but this building had marble floors, and a dude who rode in the elevator all day long, just pushing buttons for business people.
     
    She’d taken Devin’s advice to show off what tits she had. Her initial instinct had been to be stubborn, and wear a turtleneck and boot cut slacks, but whether she liked it or not, there was something to what he’d said. They both needed this piece. Anyone could break one story; she needed to build a history of being a writer who was “good to work with,” who “delivered to expectation,” who had “diverse topical interest.” Being a primadonna about her assignments wouldn’t do her any damn good, even if it would feel satisfying at the moment. She’d dressed in the most enthusiastic of her push-up bras, a charcoal gray blouse that didn’t even bother to have buttons around the neck, and a deep burgundy pencil skirt. Sensible black pumps were the only thing keeping this outfit from looking like she was actually a very high class hooker.
     
    Elevator guy let her off at the penthouse office suite, and she stepped out, feeling entirely outclassed by the receptionist. The woman had a haircut that