Page 25 of The Golden Scoop

He’s already dressed, his face bruised and a nasty cut bleeding across his cheek. It looks so realistic I catch myself raising my hand, wanting to ask if he’s okay. Because apparently my traitorous instincts care about his well-being.

Instead, I use the motion to push him away.

“Yeah. That’s my job. I wouldn’t be doing it right if I didn’t interview everyone around here.”

He hums, a knowing smirk on his face that confirms what I’ve been thinking all along.

“And…” he teases, “did you get anything useful? Maybe some Pulitzer-worthy quotes?”

“You know I didn’t because you probably paid everyone off so they would keep their mouths shut about you,” I hiss. “You’re putting on this good-boy show that couldn’t be further from who you really are. Where’s the partying? The girls?”

His face hardens under my words.

“You said to me I don’t know you. Well… you don’t know me either, honey.”

“I know the person I’ve been following around is another Hollywood puppet twisting the story for his own benefit.”

Silence. My favorite form of confession. I take pleasure in knowing I’m close to hitting the jackpot.

“How about you show me the real Emma?” he fires back. “Not the one that hides behind overalls and a notebook.”

“What’s wrong with my overalls?!” I exclaim, a little too quick. Great. Now I’m defending denim. “You know what, I don’t even care.”

I try to move past him, but his hand comes out toward me, and his palm lands flat against my belly.

“It’s only fair,” he continues. “You show me your secrets, and I’ll show you mine.”

“How would that work, huh? You expect me to believe what comes out of your mouth?”

“No, because I’m not going to use my words. I’m going to show you, and you’ll do the same,” Matt explains, as if he’s made things any clearer. “Not only that, but if you want your article to reflect the truth, this is the only way.”

I can feel the anger bubbling up inside me, getting ready to be unleashed. I take two deep breaths and remind myself to be professional. This is the break you’ve been waiting for. You can deal with Matt Hunt.

“And what way would that be?” I ask, not thrilled he’s got the upper hand.

“We plan outings for each other that reflect who we really are. I’ll take you somewhere that means something to me—a never-heard-before exclusive—and you do the same. No cheating, no lying. We take turns.”

I blink slowly.

“Dates? Your big master plan is to take each other out on dates?”

“I believe I called them outings,” he corrects. Outings. Sure. And sharks are enthusiastic fish. “But hey, if that’s what you want to label it… I just can’t be held accountable when they turn out to be the best dates you’ve ever been on.”

“Why are you so intent on ruining my life?”

He shrugs, not a single stress line on his face. Unlike mine, which probably looks ready to wrinkle into a raisin.

“I have my reasons.”

“Care to share with the class?”

He shakes his head.

“If you agree, I promise I’ll tell you why before the end of the three weeks.”

I take a whole minute to think about it. And I really think about it. I have absolutely no desire to spend more time with this man than necessary, but I also want this article to truly earn my move out of The Scoop.

If the rest of the days here are going to be the same as they have been, and knowing if I refuse, he’s going to take matters into his own hands to make it worse, I seem to be left with only one choice.