"I’m starting to feel left out," I crooned.
Wintersen leaned forward, the chair creaking under his weight as he asked, "In what way, my dear?"
"Well, I know the reason you gave Sally Livingston the anchor position was because she was nice to you."
"Nice?" His lips curved. "Nice sums it up. Do you want to be nicer to me?"
"It depends. What’s in it for me?"
He grinned, a knowing cast overtaking his expression as if we were both speaking the same language. "It depends on what you want. Sally wanted the anchor position on Wednesday mornings."
"Maybe I want more than TVGM."
"You have aspirations. So good to hear," he crooned. "Well, you know my leverage is mostly over the TVGM studios, but..." He winked. "I do have friends on Channel Four."
Smiling, I leaned forward. "That sounds very interesting. No more early mornings." I laughed, and it was so natural that even now, I grimaced. How was I this good at faking?
Past Savannah let her hand trace the seam of the armchair I was sitting in, at the same moment as I crossed my legs. A deep split appeared in my skirt, one that drifted obscenely high, enough that he licked his fleshy lips.
"I think it’s the first time I’ve seen you in a skirt, Savannah. You usually wear those boxy suits."
I just smiled at him and let my fingers fall to my thigh. "What would I have to do to get the position?"
"Well, you’d have to be...nice to me," he said softly, sinking back into his seat, his hand dropping to his crotch as he palmed himself. "But you’d have to be nicer than Sally." He smirked. "Can you do that, Savannah?"
In answer, I dropped to my knees and though the distance between us was short, and a little cramped, I crawled over to him. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Once I was near, I placed my hands on his knees, and purred, "I can be very, very, very nice."
That was when my arm reared back and I punched him in the junk.
Conor hissed. "Ouch."
I grinned, despite myself. "You should have heard him whimper."
"I’m surprised he let you go on air after that happened."
"He’d set up an internal audit, basically looking to take me down, but I did that the evening before I went live the next morning, and I paid some of the runners to make sure the footage wasn’t pulled before the video ended."
"Let me guess, women he’d creeped on over the years?"
I winked at him. "You got it." Releasing a shaky breath, I admitted, "That was the first time I watched it back."
"Really?" Conor twisted to look up at me. "Who edited it for you?"
"I did it myself."
He snorted. "Bullshit."
I squinted at him. "Are you trying to be an asshole?"
Best to deflect here.
I had no desire to get anyone in the studio into trouble, and I knew Acuig Corp. had a stake in TVGM so the O’Donnellys would be invested in knowing who’d helped me—this was definitely a dangerous topic. Getting me a job was one thing, but I had no idea how invested they were in the daily operations. Aidan hadn’t given me shit about Wintersen, but Conor might be different.
"My brothers will confirm that I don’t have to try to be an asshole." Conor laughed at his own joke. "I’ll keep digging if you don’t tell me," he warned, his tone shifting so abruptly from amused to dark that I glowered at him.
"Someone high up in the network helped me," I admitted begrudgingly. "I’m not going to name names."
"Why are you protecting her?"
"Because he was threatening to ruin her career if she didn’t fuck him." I shrugged and attempted once more to deflect the topic of conversation, "Aidan got me the job at TVGM. Did you know that?"
"I figured it out when I looked into you. I’ve spent quite an interesting evening following up on your various exploits. Especially when it comes down to Aidan. I knew there was something between you, but I couldn’t figure it out.
"At first, I thought you were his mistress but a woman like you isn’t exactly mistress material."
I scowled. "Is that an insult or a compliment?"
He grinned. "Depends on your inclination. Not sure you should be scowling at me. I didn’t mean it as an insult this time," he corrected, his grin fading. "I meant it as a truth. You wouldn’t be a mistress. Mistresses don’t usually wear suits." My wardrobe appeared illogical to him and he frowned. "I just can’t understand from how you first met, why it would lead to you getting a job out of it. Are you blackmailing him?"
It was my turn to grin. "Would anyone dare blackmail a Five Pointer?"
That had him grunting. "You’d be surprised."
I blinked. "Seriously?"
He tipped his head to the side, his eyes both distant and penetrating—which was weird, trust me—as he scanned me over like he was an X-ray hunting broken bones. "Seriously." He hummed. "Anyway, are you?"
"No. I’m not."
"Then why did he give you a job?"
I pursed my lips. "You’ll have to ask him."
"Oh, I will. I just thought I’d be likelier to get an answer out of you rather than him."
"At least you’re honest."
"It’s a failing of mine. I think you’ll be sticking around long enough to learn that..." His gaze dropped down over my form once more, but it was oddly non-sexual. "You’ll need clothes."
"Yes."
"Ask Aidan to take you down to your apartment."
"Why? It should be safe now, shouldn’t it?"
"The intruder killed Thomas last night to get into the building. Whoever sent him obviously doesn’t mind spilling blood to get to you. It’s best not to go anywhere alone. Not just for your safety but for civilians too."
Shock hit me, as well as a deep regret. "Thomas, as in the doorman?" I staggered back until my ass collided with his desk. "Oh Jesus, his wife just had their third child."
His brows rose. "You knew that?"
I swallowed. "Of course. I sent her a bouquet of flowers." Chills whispered through my body. "Oh, my God. He’s dead, and it’s my fault."
Conor’s brow puckered. "It isn’t really. It’s the people who sent the guy who came to kill you."
I shuddered. "I need to do something to help—"
"He’s an employee of Acuig Corp., Savannah," he said softly, soothingly. "Don’t worry. We take care of our own."
Blinking, I rasped, "If you do a gofundme or something, then tell me, okay? I want to contribute."
He blinked. "Okay, but we don’t work like that."
They were the Five Points. Of course, they didn’t, I thought woodenly.
His hand hovered over my knee like he wanted to comfort me but didn’t want to impose. "Truly, Savannah, it wasn’t your fault."
It was, though, wasn’t it?
"There’ll be a lot of blood shed before this whole farce is over," he intoned grimly, his eyes darkening as he glanced up at the screen once more. "You did good with that prick. When I was looking into you, I researched him.