Chapter Four

Hey Patrick. Hope all is good. Can you do me a favor and if you come across a reporter called Jacob Matthews let me know. He works at Fulham Front but they haven't heard from him in a few weeks. Stay safe.

Celeste fired the message off to Patrick then grabbed her bag and headed out the door. The sun was shining, the birds singing, and she was ready for a new week at work—hopefully no strange encounters with Ezra Todd. The guy was clearly as mixed up as a smoothie and a douchebag to go with it.

She'd had a relaxing weekend, seen her parents, been for a jog, and enjoyed a yoga class with some friends. Life was going well, especially now her financial burdens had eased.

Or at least her life was going well until she got to the office and Ezra Todd stomped over to her. As usual, he smelled amazing and today his black short-sleeved shirt was undone, low enough to show a St. Christopher pendant sitting around his neck.

"There's a rumor that Nora Baker is going to set up her own fashion brand. Find out about it and write the story," he said.

"Good morning to you too," she muttered dumping her bag down and sitting.

He ignored her.

She frowned. "Nora Baker is hardly going to grab a headline."

"It's content."

"Boring content, she's ancient and only wears posh country gear."

"You," he said, pointing at her, "would do well to remember who is editor in chief around here."

"Oh, I remember all right. You wouldn't let me forget."

"Good, so get to it. I want the piece by lunchtime."

"Lunchtime?"

"Yes, unless that's not something you can manage?" He raised his eyebrows. "Just say and I'll get someone else to do it."

"Of course I can manage it." She just didn't want to. It was boring as heck, especially when she'd had a tip-off about a royal rift at Balmoral that she wanted info on.

He rolled his eyes and walked back to his desk. For a moment she studied him, remembering how his torso had shined with sweat when they were locked in the storeroom. How he'd gotten so close when cooling her wrists she'd thought he'd been about to kiss her.

What would have happened if Jane hadn't found them at that moment? Would she have let him kiss her? It was a question that had played on her mind all weekend.

But why? She didn't even like Ezra, so on what planet would she have let him kiss her? He was a bully and a grump, and appeared to take great pleasure in bossing her around and making her feel like she was about as wanted as dirt on the bottom of his shoe.

She fired off a few emails to Nora Baker's agent and other contacts, then picked up her phone. April had left a message. It seemed she too was chasing the royal rift story as well as one about Raif Pennington's nanny being pregnant.

"No way." Celeste chuckled. "This story just gets better."

"What story?"

She looked up. Ezra's friend Toby stood beside her with a birthday card.

"Er, nothing," she said. "Whose birthday is it?"

"Ezra's. Wanna sign it?"

"Has everyone else?"

"Yes, but you two seem…"

"What?"

"I dunno. Tension, I guess." He tipped his head and studied her, a smile playing with his mouth. "I'm just not sure what kind of tension."

Celeste glanced at Ezra who was weaving his way through the desks to the kitchen. "The ‘I think he's a dick' tension, ‘but I have to put up with him because he's my boss'."

"So, you don't want to sign it?"

She sighed. "I will, give it here." She reached for the card and then her pen.

"He's got a lot on his plate, you know."

"Like what?" She scrawled: Hope you have the birthday you deserve. Celeste. Then she passed the card back.

Toby looked around as though checking for eavesdroppers.

"He told me about your colleague in Ukraine," she said. "If that's what you mean."

Toby's face darkened. "Yeah, that's worrying. But Ezra has more on his mind."

"Go on."

"He stopped war reporting to take care of his mother here in London. She's got dementia, and she's in a bad way from what I hear."

"Oh, that's hard."

"Yes, and between him and his sister they've managed to keep her at home for the last few years, they didn't want her in a care home but…"

"But?"

"But two weeks ago, that's what happened. She went into a home. She was a hazard to herself, so confused, you know. Dangerous. Ezra's taken it hard, feels like he's failed her."

"But he gave up his dream career to care for her. That's not failing her. Sounds to me like he stepped up when necessary." She glanced across at him. He was talking to Roland. She'd never have guessed he had such a caring side, or such a sense of family duty.

"I've said that to him, of course I have," Toby said. "But he's beating himself up so…"

"So, I should go easy on him?"

"I'm not telling you to do anything. Just giving you the info." He shrugged and tucked the card into a magazine he was holding. "There's more to everyone than meets the eye."

Before she could reply Toby turned and walked back to his desk.

Ezra had changed his whole life to care for his mother. She'd never have thought him the type of person to do that. Though it wouldn't hurt to do it with some grace, rather than picking on the new girl.

He was still a dick.

Roland suddenly clapped. "Everyone, can I have your attention."

The office quieted.

"A few stats from last week," he said. "Finance stories breaking about mortgage rates, Jane, you got five-hundred-thousand-plus clicks on your article. Well done. Ezra, for the celeb department you got six-hundred-thousand-plus clicks on the Raif Pennington story. And on travel, Mary and Simon, your journal about Croatia hit two-hundred-fifty-thousand. A great week all around." He nodded at Celeste.

It seemed the entire office looked at her too.

"Make being here count, it's clear our readers enjoy a good scandal that involves celebs. Use all your contacts."

Her mouth fell open. Ezra was still taking the credit for her scoop and she was being told to work harder, in front of everyone. And it was all Ezra's fault. Of all the low-blow, conniving, scumbag actions. "But…"

Her sentence was cut off as Toby stood and handed Ezra his birthday card. "Happy Birthday, mate, hope it's a good one." He slapped him on the shoulder.

She glowered at him as he opened his card. He read it as everyone, except for her, sang Happy Birthday.

His attention was suddenly harnessed on her. She kept her mouth clamped shut because, good, he'd read her message. She hoped he did get the birthday he deserved. Miserable.

The song finished and everyone took to their desks again. She stood, it was time to put Roland straight about the Raif story. But Roland was already speaking. "It's tonight…" he was saying striding over to Ezra and summoning her to join them, "it's tonight, the premier, and I want interviews."

"The Bad Boy Biker movie?" she asked.

"Of course, the Bad Boy Biker movie," Ezra said, scowling. "What else would it be?"

She glared at him and folded her arms.

Roland didn't seem to notice any animosity between them and he carried on urgently. "It's the biggest premier of the year so far, and with Raif Pennington having a leading role alongside his estranged wife, it's the perfect opportunity to get the lowdown. I want you both there, on the red carpet, microphones poised, get juicy quotes, get clickbait gossip. This has been simmering for weeks, it's too good an opportunity to miss."

"Yep, I'll be there," Ezra said with a curt nod.

"Both of you." Roland flicked his hand between them. "I want you both there. And I want something that will blow up the celeb section of the site sitting on my desk by midmorning tomorrow."

"I can do that." Celeste shrugged. "And I'll get the photos to go with it."

"Yes, everything, get everything. And if you can find out more about the nanny and the pregnancy, I want that too. Readers are obsessed."

****

Celeste stood between two huge male reporters who kept jabbing her with their elbows. But she was unfazed, her microphone poked forward at the ready, and her probing questions waited on her tongue.

Ezra was opposite, on the other side of the red carpet, dressed in black jeans and black t-shirt, and light-black jacket, while she was dressed in white jeans and a silky white shirt. Being on opposite sides meant Fulham Front had the best chance at nabbing an exclusive story. It just depended on which side of the carpet Raif and his wife Melinda stopped to talk.

The sky was full of swollen, gunmetal gray clouds and she hoped the rain would hold off for a little while longer. Already several celebs had strutted their stuff, designer outfits on show for the photographers. April was amongst the sea of fancy cameras, clicking away, so at least Celeste didn't need to worry about great shots. April always came up trumps.

And then Melinda appeared wearing a dramatic floor-length sequined gold gown. Her hair was slicked back and she looked every bit the superstar she was.

The press called her name, clamoring for attention. Her smile stayed serene as she walked like a supermodel along the red carpet, waving at onlookers. When she reached the area Celeste was in, she paused.

The two men either side of Celeste nudged forward, pushing Celeste back, drowning her in the crowd. She battled for the front again, huffing and elbowing her way through.

Melinda spotted her. For the briefest moment a frown marred her smooth brow, then she stepped up to Celeste. "Hey, are you okay there? Looks like these guys have forgotten their manners."

"What do you think of Raif's new lover?" One of the men shoved his microphone forward.

"Are the pregnancy rumors true?"

She ignored them, though her jaw tensed.

Celeste smiled. "Who are you wearing tonight? Your gown is beautiful, Melinda."

Melinda returned the smile. "Armani, and thank you. It's heavy but I love it."

"Congratulations on the movie. Pundits are saying it's going to get you another Oscar."

Melinda pressed her hand to her chest. "I do hope so, two would be quite the achievement and exactly what I need in my life right now."

"Success is great revenge," Celeste said. "I hope you get both."

Melinda leaned forward a little. "Thank you, I intend to." A sudden kerfuffle to her right caught Melinda's attention. "Oh, great, the cheating rat is here, I'd hoped he'd gotten lost in the sewers."

"We're all on your side," Celeste said. "And karma is a bitch, he'll get what he deserves."

Suddenly she chuckled. "I hope you're right."

An aide touched her elbow. "This way, Melinda."

Melinda stepped out into the center of the red carpet and threw a daggered glare at her husband who was straightening his creased linen jacket. His shades had slipped to the end of his nose and his hair flopped forward—it really could use a date with a bottle of shampoo.

Celeste spun to look at April, hoping she'd caught a snap of the moment. It would be incredible. Melinda poised and elegant, her cheating husband looking an out-of-control mess.

"Yes." Celeste grinned. April was clicking away.

She looked over at Ezra who was holding his own with a group of male reporters, though Melinda had passed the whole group now and was making her way to the entrance of the theater. He spotted her and gave a thumbs-up sign. Clearly, he'd seen her talking to Melinda.

She nodded and a little fizz of triumph went through her. She had enough to make a story out of the short conversation. Melinda's anger and determination had come through. No one would be on Raif's side by the time she'd finished writing her article.

Raif didn't talk to any reporters, just ducked his head, as though wishing he were anywhere but at the premier of his new movie.

After he'd gone inside, Celeste slipped her microphone into her bag and wound back through the crowd. She had what she needed and it was starting to rain.

"Hey," Ezra said, suddenly appearing before her. "You okay?"

"Yes, why?"

"Those guys were pretty rough. I saw them pushing you around."

"I've been doing this a long time, you know, I can handle excited reporters." She glanced up at the sky. "I'm off, it's raining, and I don't have a jacket."

"Let's get a drink."

"What?"

He frowned. "A drink, over there, at The George. It'll only be a shower."

"You just want to know what Melinda said."

"Is that so bad?" He touched the small of her back and steered her toward the old Tudor pub. "And I am your boss."

"As if I could ever forget that."

By the time they reached the doorway, the heavens were opening. Big heavy thunder spots that landed on the pavement like pebbles. They ducked inside.

"What are you having?" Ezra said.

"I should buy, it's your birthday."

He paused as though he'd forgotten.

"But it's okay, I'll have a white wine." She set her bag on the bar.

He chuckled. "Fair enough. I guess buying my own drink on my birthday is what I deserve."

An apology for her comment in his card hovered on her lips but she didn't let it out.

Ezra ordered, then when their drinks were in front of them, he turned to her. "So, what did she say to you? Quite the girly chat by the looks of it."

"Wanna hear?"

"Sure."

She pulled her phone from her bag and hit "play."

When the short exchange had been replayed, Ezra chuckled. "Yeah, you'll be able to put a good spin on a story with that."

"I feel sorry for her," Celeste said. "No one deserves to be cheated on and lied to. Raif is a nasty bit of work."

"I agree." He nodded. "Cheating is the worst."