Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“No,” I say with a flirty smile. “That was a separate nomination. Apparently, you’re quite a popular guy.”
He gives me a cocky grin as he takes a seat opposite the one I just vacated, making sure to check his watch. “I have a few minutes, so by all means,” he says, sweeping his arm out and inviting me to take a seat.
I make myself comfortable, but before I can launch into my questions, he holds a hand up. “Hold on,” he says with creased eyebrows. “I’ve heard of you. Aren’t you that investigative journalist who has been putting assholes behind bars?”
“Guilty,” I say with a proud smile that has his interest returning. Apparently, this guy is willing to look past the baby bump and wedding band after all.
“Right, so why are you doing an interview like this?” he asks skeptically.
I let out a frustrated scoff and put my acting skills into gear. I rub my baby bump, bringing his attention to it once again. “Apparently, my boss doesn’t approve of my risky projects while I’ve got this little guy growing inside me. Though I’m sure he’s just concerned about the premium of his insurance if something were to happen. So until further notice, I’m stuck doing these fluff pieces, even though my usual projects are what bring in the most money for the magazine,” I explain. “That and my husband would have a heart attack if I was doing what I really wanted to do.”
“Bad luck for you, huh? Though I must agree with your boss. From a business perspective, he was right to bench you.”
“I know,” I agree with a heavy sigh. “Anyway, I should get started. You’re clearly a very busy man, and I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”
He nods his head, and I launch into my questions about his sexy, good looks and bachelor status, making sure to hit all the fitness and diet questions. After doing my best pretending as though I’m actually interested in his clinical, rehearsed replies, I wrap it up when I go ahead and take a risk. “Thank you, Christian. That concludes my questions for the article, but may I be so bold to ask for a statement?”
His gaze narrows and my gut screams to go for it. “A statement for what?” he asks.
“A colleague of mine is doing a piece on the recent passing of Marco Cincinnati. I’m sure you must have known him quite well.”
“Recent passing?” he asks with concern, his brows furrowed.
Hmm . . . curious.
Either he truly has no idea, or the guy is pulling out his own impressive acting skills. But how could someone in his position not know about Marco’s passing? It was major news that rocked the construction world.
“Yes, sir. His body was discovered on Saturday morning,” I inform him like the good little girl I am.
Christian hangs his head. “That’s truly devastating. I have known Marco for quite some time.”
“I’m so very sorry, I wasn’t aware you knew each other personally,” I tell him. “I would have broken the news in a more sensitive way.”
He nods his head. “How did he pass?” he asks.
Bingo. Just the question I was hoping for.
I watch Christian closely as I go about my description. “His body was discovered in a brothel. He was highly intoxicated, and there was evidence of drug use. Though I believe they are still waiting for the toxicology results to determine if he was using.”
He nods his head, and I watch as his features remain schooled. No shock, no surprise, no dilation of his pupils. This is not news to him, and that tells me that there is indeed more to this story. “That’s a shame,” he says, shaking his head with disapproval. “I hadn’t realized he was one for wild partying. If I’d known he was in trouble, I could have reached out and gotten him the help he so clearly needed.”
Liar. There are plenty of news articles that show the two of them out having wild, drunken nights together. All of which include alcohol, drugs, hookers, and DUI charges.
“Of course,” I say, giving him a tight smile. “Again, I apologize for being the one to have to break the news. I’m sure you must need a moment to yourself to grieve. So, I’ll get out of your hair and I’ll be sure to email your office when the article is ready for approval.”
“Wonderful,” Christian says, getting to his feet. He holds his hand out once again, and I reluctantly take it. “It was lovely meeting you, Sophie.”
“Likewise,” I nod. “Thank you for your time this morning.”
With that, I beeline for the door, knowing that without a doubt I will somehow find my way back into that office. I head back out to the reception area and find Aimee at her desk. “All done?” she asks with a clinical smile.