Avery pushed open the glass doors to the Metropolitan offices on Thursday afternoon, eager to see James in the light of day. She’d spent the whole morning obsessing over their evening at Thom. Was he flirting with her? Had she gotten too tipsy?
Generally, when you have to ask yourself that question, the answer is yes.
She plopped her purple Lanvin hobo bag on top of her intern desk, not even caring about the bags of crap McKenna and Gemma had left for her to messenger to Barneys or wherever. She had better things to do than play slave to the assistants. Instead, she immediately picked up the large layout sheets of a new Metropolitan article.
All in the Family? read the headline, printed in Old English gothic font, as if it were some sort of formal announcement. In smaller letters, a sentence underneath read, Is Jack Laurent sleeping her way to the top of Cashman Lofts? A photo alongside the text was of Jack and J.P. kissing in front of Barneys. Jack seemed to be looking warily at the camera, while J.P.’s eyes were closed, his expression totally blissful.
She turned to the next page. There, in bold letters next to a photo of Jack’s billboard, was a quote Avery recognized as her own, vodka-infused words. SOME PEOPLE HAVE SPECIAL CIRCUMSTANCES THEY’D LIKE TO HIDE. Next to that was a photo of the Cashman Lofts with an inset picture of a ruddy, lobster-colored Dick Cashman merrily toasting Jack Laurent. Jack was smiling and looked beautiful. MAY-DECEMBER ROMANCE? read the caption underneath the photo.
“Looking good, right?”
Avery whirled around to see James smiling down at her. “Not just the article,” James murmured, his gaze flicking appreciatively to Avery’s low-cut silk Tocca blouse.
“I didn’t realize this would come out so soon,” Avery squeaked. She felt a tiny pang of regret as she stared at the photo of Dick and Jack. It implied that they were having some sort of illicit affair, and that her relationship with J.P. was just a cover-up. But the article never explicitly said that. And besides, none of the quotes—about Jack’s special circumstances and secretive behavior—were false.
Is she sure she doesn’t want to go into politics?
“It’s a great story.” James smiled proudly. “Read it through and let me know if there’s anything that needs adding. We make a good team. I already told Ticky, and she agrees.” James squeezed her shoulder and Avery’s knees felt weak.
“And look what I did for you.” James flicked the layout with his thumb and forefinger, making a thwacking sound. Additional reporting by Avery Carlyle. Avery grinned. In print, her name looked pretty cool. She bit her Lancôme-glossed lip to try to suppress a smile. She wanted James to see her as blasé, like she got bylines in major cultural magazines all the time.
“You know how many interns get bylines here?” James asked rhetorically, making a zero with his thumb and forefinger. “I’m looking out for you. And I’ll pick you up and bring you to the Cashman Lofts party tomorrow. See if there’s anything we want to slam into the story.”
“Cool!” Avery said, cringing at how teenager-y she sounded. “I mean, I can’t wait,” she added. This time, she’d just limit herself to one—maybe two—glasses of champagne.
“Great.” James smiled, displaying his mega-white teeth. “Now, can you be an angel and head down to the cafeteria? I’d love a large tea with lemon. I’d hate for all your recent success to go to your pretty head.” He ruffled Avery’s hair and carelessly tossed a rumpled bill on her overflowing desk. “There’s a fiver. Keep the change.”
Avery stuffed the crumpled bill in her purse. Even the way he ordered her around was cute.
If you’re into that sort of thing.
Her heart raced, imagining what would happen when the article hit newsstands. Jack already hated her. So what if the article made it look like she was trading sex for real estate? Maybe that’s what Jack got for being a self-centered, histrionic bitch. As she strutted to the elevator, Avery allowed a victory smile to seep onto her face.
Game on?