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“I’ll go call her right now. Go watch the videos.”

I barely waited for her to leave before I kicked my door shut and found one of them, then another, and another.

I had to admit, thanks to the clever editing, it absolutely did sound like flirting. And people were eating it all up.

Were there hate comments? It was the internet. Of course.

But what alarmed me more than those people were the ones who decided they needed to do whatever it took to find out who Madison was… and what books she wrote.

It looked like I needed to add one more thing to my never-ending to-do list. I needed to visit the local witchy shop and have them work some kind of magic to make me unable to be tracked down. I wasn’t sure how well it would work without giving them specifics, but I had to make sure someone else didn’t use witchcraft to locate me.

Not only would that likely be the end of my career, it would make Silas feel completely blindsided.

The only possible good that could come out of it would be the ‘fame’ maybe helping me land a book deal.

But I didn’t want it that way.

I wanted it on my own merit, on the strength of my storytelling, not because I just so happened to accidentally go viral.

I was getting away with myself.

No one was going to find out who I was.

But I was going to get in big trouble if I didn’t do what my boss wanted.

So after finding one of the sound clips of the show, I used it in a video teasing everyone to tune in tonight to see if “Madison” called in again.

She was going to.

She had to.

Even if now I felt a pit in my stomach at the idea of so many people tuning in, listening, analyzing, and coming to possibly bizarre conclusions.

None, I guess, were as bizarre as the reality.

“Well, if it isn’t the best-dressed vampire in all of Seattle,” Rupert said.

I sprang out of my chair and rushed to my door, flinging it open, reaching out, and grabbing hold of Silas’s sleeve.

“I need to talk to you,” I said as I dragged him into my office.

Did I slam the door in Rupert’s face?

Yes.

I could deal with his scorn later.

I’m sure I’d hear something about how I didn’t have the right kind of frame for bootcut slacks or something. Hurtful, maybe, but low on my list of concerns.

Silas’s brows were raised, but a bemused smile tugged at his lips.

“So it appears.”

I released his arm and moved back a step.

“Have you heard?”

“Heard what?”