The sound of my phone ringing pulls me out of the most delicious dream. One where Jake was going down on me—of course—and I was coming and coming harder than ever before, for like thirty minutes straight. I’m not so sure that it’s out of the question when it comes to him. I can actually see it happening.

Rolling over, I snatch my phone from the table beside my bed and groan when I see Lori’s name flashing on my screen. Of all the people to have to talk to right now, she’s really not high on my list.

I just want to luxuriate in my bed for an hour or five and fantasize about the night I had with Jake. I really wish he were still here. I vaguely remember him leaving earlier this morning, but my body was too spent to even come fully awake. Maybe he said something about getting to work early.

For half a second, I debate not answering Lori’s call. It would be way too easy to just silence my phone and pull the covers back over my head and disappear into dreamland where Jake permanently resides right between my legs.

But I can’t, and I fucking know it.

With a resigned sigh, I swipe my finger across my phone. “Hello?”

“Layla,” Lori says briskly, all business and way too alert for me.

I sit up to try to clear my head so that I can focus. “Hey, Lori. What’s up?”

She makes a huffing sound, and I can just imagine her pursing her lips in that prim and proper way she has. “The network’s lawyers have decided to go on the offensive.”

What is she talking about? I throw the blankets off myself and walk toward the window, pulling back the curtains with the hope that some sunlight will wake me up enough to have a coherent conversation. Then it hits me. Lawyers. The guys that were in Jake’s office yesterday.

“What happened?” I say cautiously as I remember how adamant Jake was about fighting the FCC if he had to. Shit. I really don’t want to do this yet. Not when I’m still not sure where things stand between Jake and I—or what I’m going to do about the case.

“They’ve taken it all public. The investigation into the show. Now everyone knows we’re trying to shut them down.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” I ask. “I mean, that’s the whole point of it, right?”

Lori sighs in exasperation, and then speaks to me as if I’m a child that doesn’t understand. “I wanted it done quietly. Without the media hype and publicity. Now that everyone knows what we’re trying to do, the whole viewing public could start second-guessing us. We don’t need that.”

Lori’s motivations are definitely questionable. Why does she have such an agenda to get A Cunning Linguist shut down? I respect the fuck out of the woman—she’s done an incredible job at the agency—but every day I agree less and less with her opinion about the show being obscene.

“Listen, Lori,” I say, trying to calm her down. “Think of it this way. If people feel that strongly about the show being canceled, then maybe it’s not as bad as we think.” We meaning Lori.

She scoffs. “Come on, Layla. Be serious. The man had his head between a woman’s legs on a live broadcast. It’s just not right.”

Not right for whom? I want to ask.

“I mean it. The reason you’re doing this is because you have the best interests of the viewing public in mind, right? Well, if they don’t have a problem with it, why should we? Maybe it’s really not that bad. Maybe Jake is just living up to his marketing—he’s a guy out to help people.”

“Ugh, come on,” she says derisively. “Jake Kent is only in this for one thing. Money. He’s a shallow bastard willing to take advantage of innocent women to further his reputation and add zeros to his bank balance.”

“You don’t even know the guy, Lori. You’re making an entire judgment about his character based on an image his network paints for the audience.”

“Oh, and you do know him?” I hear the hint of suspicion in her voice, and now I’m actually really fucking glad that he’s not here right now. I can only imagine what he would say if he heard the way Lori was talking. And I’m going to get my own ass in trouble if she realizes I’m sleeping with the subject of my investigation.

“Have you interviewed the past guests yet?” she asks, changing tactics.

“I’m working on it.”

I can almost see the pitying shake of her head as she sighs again. “Layla, dear. Listen to me. Jake Kent is a player. He’s as bad as they come. And believe me, I recognize a player when I see one.”

Uh huh. Just what I thought. She’s judging Jake and his entire show based on her own personal history and her own emotional and sexual hang-ups.

“Lori—” I start to say, but she interrupts me.

“You need to be careful, Layla. He’s trouble. I don’t want to see you do something you’ll regret. Something that could have lasting consequences.”

Is she saying what I think she is? That my job is on the line here? I grit my teeth until my jaw aches, finally biting out, “Thanks, Lori. I appreciate your advice.”

“Just promise me you’ll remember what I said. Jake is a player. Don’t let yourself be fooled.”

I hang up, mulling over everything she said. Now I’m really in a mess. On the one hand, I’m doubting everything I’m doing with the investigation. But on the other, I really like my job and want to keep it.

And she’s wrong about Jake. Isn’t she? She has to be. There’s no way he can be playing me. Right?