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I set the microphone into the box carefully when a voice at the door causes me to drop it the rest of the way inside.
“What are you doing here?”
I gasp as my hand flies to my chest, and I whip toward the door only to come face to face with Ryan Rivera.
My heart skips a beat as fear ices my veins. “None of your business.”
“How’d you even get in?” he presses. “Didn’t you have to turn in your keycard?”
“Fuck off.”
“Cute, Bailey, but no thanks. Some of us are here working late because, well, you know…we still have jobs.” His tone is snide, and I just want him to go so I can finish packing the rest of this stuff in peace.
I don’t know if anyone else is even around tonight, and I hate the feeling in my chest like I’m unsafe even in this office.
I ignore him, and my phone starts to ring. I ignore that, too.
“You don’t have some sort of reply to that? You’re losing your edge. Our banter was always my favorite part of working with you. Or at least the thing that turned me on the most,” he says. He’s leaning in the doorway, blocking my escape even though I’m not quite done packing yet.
“That’s harassment, and I will not—”
“You don’t work here anymore,” he interrupts. “So you can run to Marcus or HR or whoever, but it won’t matter.”
The fear inside me intensifies, but I won’t let him see it. “Right. Exactly. You got what you wanted, so let me pack up the rest of this shit in peace and leave me the hell alone.”
He laughs, and it’s got a cruel edge to it. “I’m not quite done with you yet.”
“What does that mean?” I ask. I wrap up a cord and set it in the box.
“It means I have an exclusive story that’s going to print tomorrow.”
I blow out a breath, sure he’s bluffing, and I don’t respond.
“Don’t you want to know what it’s about?” he presses, and he walks in and perches on the edge of the table I’m currently packing up. He’s too close, and I hate it.
“I don’t give a shit what it’s about, actually.” I grab the rest of the stuff that belongs to Ellie and start dumping it into my box haphazardly just to get it done.
“That’s so funny since it involves both you and your boyfriend.”
I finish packing and finally turn to look at him. “Haven’t you done enough?”
He presses his lips together. “You’d think so, but this story was way too good to pass up. Maybe I got you out, but this is just the icing on the cake. Makes that boyfriend of yours look like a real dick in the end.” He smiles triumphantly, and I have the sudden urge to kick him in the teeth.
“You’re bluffing.”
“Maybe,” he concedes. “Or maybe you’ll find out tomorrow that I’m not.”
“Just get on with it already,” I say, and I pick up my box to head out, but I don’t move yet…mostly because I’m curious, though I’ll never admit that to him.
“I had to dig deep for this one,” he admits. He brushes his knuckles on his shoulder. “But someone will always talk, and I found the right guy.”
“What guy?”
“Chuck McCoy.”
My brows dip together as I recall a name I haven’t heard in many years. “The old Giants’ linebacker?”
“Bingo. And do you know what Chuck told me?”
