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“Because of your connections at the magazine, of course,” Mike Holmes said with a sage nod and Evan smiled.
“Yes.”
Holmes’s eyes narrowed and he tilted his head, affecting a look of confusion.
“Now hold on. You make Iris sound like a bundle of neuroses and anxiety. Why entrust such an important interview to her? Especially—as you said—she lacked experience. Why didn’t you do it instead?”
“Uh…” Evan’s relaxed smile slipped a notch, before she fixed it firmly in place. “Well, I would’ve loved to, of course. But I had commitments at work. I couldn’t just up and leave. Iris just does some freelance editing. It’s easier for her to swan off to exotic destinations than it is for me."
"But surely your then-boss at Looker would have granted you some time off to pursue a story like this?”
“Iris and I decided that the fewer people who knew about this the better. I didn’t trust my then-boss not to take the story from me.”
“I understand your boss was fired and you have her job now?” Holmes inserted smoothly, with a warm little smile. Now Iris could see what Colby had meant. There was something watchful—almost predatory—in the host’s dark gray eyes.
“I do. Yes.”
“Congratulations,” Holmes said and Evan smiled.
“Thank you.”
“This story has been good to you. Recognition and respect at work, I assume a substantial pay rise, plus whatever you earned off the article—and you’ve become a recognized name in the entertainment journalism industry. Not bad for one as young as you.”
“I may be young, Mike, but I’ve worked my arse off for every opportunity.”
“I’m sure,” he said amenably. “And Iris? She’s been cagey with the press. Not a single interview. Did Looker offer her a position? I’m sure you must be champing at the bit to have her working with you?”
“Iris isn’t interested in working at Looker,” Evan said, her voice as flat as the line of her mouth.
“Why not?”
“Who knows?” Evan’s response was curt and dismissive. “She’s a strange one.”
“I agree. I do find it odd that someone would land the scoop of the decade, then not bask in the aftermath. She hasn’t been seen in public much. Her family has closed ranks. It’s like she fell off the face of the planet.”
“Maybe she’s embarrassed she slept her way into a story and that the entire world then got to read about it in her journal,” Evan said snidely, then recognized that she’d miscalculated when a low rumble of mutters swept through the audience.
“Speaking of the journal… a lot of the information the excerpts revealed were deeply personal and not always flattering to Iris. I was baffled as to why anyone would want such intimate thoughts exposed to the public.”
“You’re going to have to ask Iris about that. I have no idea what motivates her sometimes.” Evan tried for a wide, friendly smile, but she was starting to look a little frayed around the edges.
“I would ask her, only she’s gone into hiding and, as her best friend, you’re the only one who could possibly give us some insight into her thought process.”
“I’d prefer not to discuss her, to be honest,” Evan said. “I thought we would be chatting about Looker’s upcoming collaborative project with?—”
“In a minute, but for now I’d like to remain focused on Iris, if you don’t mind?” Mike Holmes’s smile had become decidedly sharklike and Iris leaned forward on the sofa in anticipation. “How much of the article did she write?”
“Iris has never been a very good writer. I had to write most of it for her. It was a mess before I got hold of it.”
“I see. Extremely generous of you to share the byline with her.”
“Well, it was her story after all,” Evan said with a modest smile.
“You merely wrote it for her,” Holmes completed for her.
Evan laughed, looking flattered by the non-compliment, and made a zipping motion across her lips.
“It wouldn’t be very sporting of me to say more than that, Mike.”
