Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
I lift a hand to say hello, but the tears glittering in her eyes make it clear this isn’t the time for morning pleasantries. “Lulu. Hey. Are you all right?”
She shakes her head, glancing over her shoulder before coming to join me where I’m tucked between two faux pillars carved into the edifice of the historic building. “Caleb’s school called. He threw up his morning snack again, and I have to go pick him up.”
“I’m sorry. I hope he feels better.”
“Oh, I’m sure he feels fine.” She lifts her eyes to the sky and swipes a finger beneath her lashes, catching a tear. “Caleb is a super picky eater. Anything new activates his gag reflex. I’ve tried to tell his teacher that, but she won’t stop pushing him to try new foods, and the school has a zero-tolerance policy for kids getting sick. This is the third time this month I’ve had to leave to get him, and my supervisor is not happy. Will doesn’t care that I get all my work done as soon as I get home. Every time it happens, he gets more frustrated. But my ex refuses to share pick-up duty on my days, and I don’t have anyone else.”
She pulls in a shaky breath, fresh tears rising in her eyes. “If I lose this job, I’ll be underwater in less than a month. It’s impossible to put anything into savings with three kids under the age of nine.”
I put a gentle hand on her shoulder, willing strength into her petite frame. “I’m so sorry, Lulu. I know some of the old guard can be ridiculous about working from home. Maybe that’s something the company should address from the top down? Is there a place where employees can anonymously suggest policy change?”
Lulu shakes her head. “The last woman who complained about the attitude toward mothers in the office was out in a month.”
My lips part to tell her that’s bullshit, and that I’m going to bring this up with Jack and Ryan personally, but of course I can’t say that.
I’m Eric, not Ellie, and I need to stay undercover if I want to get the rest of my scoop.
And I need that scoop, not just to please my editor Denise, who is completely psyched about the new direction for my article, but to do right by the people working for my brother and Jack. And the best way to prove my good intentions is to keep my secret.
At least for now.
So I furrow my brow and nod sympathetically. “I get it. But if there’s anything I can do, let me know.”
Lulu pats my arm. “You’re sweet. You’re going to do great here, I know it. We’ve got a few rotten apples in the office, but the big bosses are great guys. Keep it up and you’re going to impress the hell out of them.”
It’s good to hear. And it makes me feel awful at the same time.
I hate lying to Lulu—to anyone, really.
By the time I make it to my desk, my giddy has vanished, replaced by concern about what I’m going to do when it comes time to show my cards. Eventually, anyone who reads my article will know that Ellie and Eric are one and the same.
What will Lulu and the rest of the people in the office I’m coming to respect and care about think of me then? Will they understand why I lied? Will they realize how much I truly want to be a catalyst for positive change?
Or will they hate me for being a nosy journalist?
All of these worries are still swirling in my head when a floral-sugar-citrus scent envelopes me from behind, signaling the arrival of my very nice-smelling nemesis.
“Hey there, workaholic. What time did you get out of here last night?” Blair asks, tapping a shiny nail on my desk.
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear there was a spark of challenge in her eyes, and my brain swirls with a new batch of panicked questions. Did she see me outside Jack’s office last night, passed out like a helpless wimp? Did she hear him call me Ellie? Watch as he practically carried me out the door? Has she seen the “girlfriend got laid” glimmer in my eye and put two and two together to identify me as a reporter in drag who’s banging her fake boss?
Is my cover completely blown?
Taking a deep breath and attempting to remain calm, I say, “Not too late. Maybe around seven. You?”
“Oh, I was here until midnight going through those personnel files. Speaking of which…” Her talon tap tap taps again, right next to my laptop. “I took a peek at yours, and I noticed a few, shall we say, discrepancies.”
“Discrepancies?” My voice breaks, but I clear my throat and soldier on, ignoring the pounding of my heart. “Well, I’m happy to talk with Jack about that. I thought we had everything in order, but I’m sure I can help fill in any gaps.”