Page 9 of Beni

It was the paper magazine where space was coveted.

In more ways than August could explain.

Her online publications, two informational pieces and one opinion piece, had gained her a bit of notoriety online, and about fifty-thousand followers on her socials. You would think that should be enough to prove her weight to the magazine, but she swore they only saw her as an artist willing to bleed her passion on glossy paper that they would take for all it was worth … without, of course, giving her much worth in return.

“Well?” her father pressed gently.

August sighed. “I thought I knew how I wanted to present it, but I think it’ll be better to scrap any plans I might have until I get to Chicago, and can actually walk the streets. Talk to some people. See how they feel about the brands that have changed their landscapes, and influenced the culture around them. You know?”

“My smart girl, hmm?”

She smiled, unable to stop herself.

Always her biggest fans.

And cheerleaders.

It was what she loved the most about her parents. It never failed.

Her boss suggested, if all went well, that there was possibly a six-page spread waiting for her take on the influence where brands were concerned in the urban sectors of Chicago. That was, as long as she could pull it off, the content was engaging enough, and her message was clear in the article she had to produce for it.

All things August could do.

Undoubtedly.

She just had to get out of her head to do it.

“Ada thinks the trip will be good for you,” her father said, referring to her mother. “And she wants you to take lots of pictures with Camilla while you’re there. She misses her.”

Yeah, August bet.

August’s best friend from the time she was a young teenager, Camilla Donati—now a Rossi, as her friend married a man connected to the Chicago mob a couple years back—was one of the things she was looking forward to the most in the windy city. She didn’t get to see Cam nearly as much now that she had moved out of New York, and it always felt like they had a ton to catch up on whenever they got together again.

At the same time, it felt like they picked right up where they left off, too. That was one of the better things about having a best friend, even if she was several states away from August now. Time and distance didn’t really make a difference to their friendship.

They were still Camilla and August.

“I will,” August assured her father, “because I am sure Ma won’t let me forget it.”

Likely text her a dozen times a day.

Cameron chuckled. “You know it. And how is Ian treating you?”

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear …

A truer statement had never passed her mind before.

Ian Bared wasn’t actually the devil, but he could come damn close to it sometimes. People working at the magazine called him a tyrant, and he about looked like it, too, in all his six-foot-four-inch glory, carrying around a solid two-hundred-twenty pounds that he stuffed into a tailored, Armani suit day in and day out.

At her father’s mention of his acquaintance—she wouldn’t call them friends, all things considered—Ian’s shadow darkened her desk, making August look up from the magazine she had spread out across the glossy top. She was quick to give the man a smile, and used a sticky note to keep her place in the magazine before closing it up.

Ian smiled back, a little too widely maybe, before waving a finger at her in a silent demand for her to hang up the phone. He wasn’t her boss—per se—but he was the CEO and majority owner of Bared Brands. And if not for her father’s connection to the man through a case he litigated on behalf of the magazine a few years ago, August likely wouldn’t have gotten the internship that started her career at this place.

For whatever reason, Ian liked her. Maybe a little too much, all things considered. His office was four floors higher in the large skyscraper, and yet he made an effort to come down to visit her at least once a day.

He wasn’t entirely inappropriate, but he also didn’t have to be. Some guys just gave off that kind of vibe. Maybe their stare lingered a little too long, or their words offered too much room for suggestion.

August found herself between a rock and hard place with Ian Bared. He was closer to her father’s age than her own, and for whatever reason, seemed to like her. She wasn’t interested—at all. She also felt like because her position here had been determined by his relationship to her father, not to mention Bared Brands didn’t exactly foster the greatest environment for women to speak up when they were uncomfortable with the attention of a man at the company, that she couldn’t tell the CEO to leave her alone.