When I woke the day after the party, a part of me hoped that last night had just been a bad dream. That I hadn’t even gone to the club and that whole incident in the bathroom had just been some weird fever dream.

But it wasn’t.

Nope. I had actually overheard Austin James getting some girl off—and it sounded like he hadn’t lost any of his magic touch.

I groaned into my pillow.

The whole thing had happened so quickly that I hadn’t even had a chance to really look at him. To take him in. It was probably better that way. Still, I couldn’t help fumbling for my phone and checking online to see if there were any pictures of him from last night.

There were. A few celebrity gossip sites had posted pictures of the celebrities that had been in attendance, and there he was, in those scruffy boots of his. Apparently, he had also been wearing a pair of beat-up jeans and a tight black shirt with a leather jacket. Still dressing like he had in college, though I would bet that each item—no matter how worn it looked—had been manufactured to look that way. And all of it probably cost more than my month’s rent.

That’s how it was with celebrities, especially musicians. And even though Luke liked to say that Austin hadn’t changed, that he was a nice guy and a good friend, I had a hard time believing it. I didn’t doubt that he had been a good friend to Luke, but nice guy? Doubtful. After that conversation I’d overheard in college, I knew the truth about who he really was. A player. And it looked like the past eight years hadn’t changed that one bit. He wasn’t some unique, special musician with a tender heart looking for love. He was a manwhore who got random girls off in the bathroom of parties.

But damn, he was still gorgeous.

I allowed myself a few more seconds of looking at his picture before I tucked my phone away and dragged myself out of bed. OK, yeah, he was fucking hot, but so were lots of guys in this city. The only reason my skin got all hot and itchy at the thought of Austin was because I hadn’t had sex in a long, long time. It had nothing to do with him.

The smell of coffee drew me out of my room, and I went into the kitchen to find my roommate Grace making breakfast. Without even asking, she poured me a cup of coffee. “Thanks, babe.”

I took a grateful gulp. Grace was a full-on coffee nerd. She spent a good portion of her paycheck making sure she got the best coffee in the city—coffee that was fair trade and environmentally friendly as well. She worked in marketing for a small skincare company, one that was as focused as she was on making sure they were making the world a better place. All the free samples she brought home, plus the delicious coffee every morning, made her the world’s best roommate.

“How was the party last night?” she asked.

Unsurprisingly she had been in bed when I got home. Grace loved order and it was a rare occasion that got her to break her carefully organized schedule and stay up past ten.

“It was OK,” I said, taking a long sip of coffee. “Mmm, that’s good.”

“It’s a new blend,” she said. “Should I add it to the rotation?”

“Definitely,” I told her, smiling as I watched her add the name of the coffee blend to her schedule of coffees that was listed on the fridge.

“Meet anyone fun?” she asked.

I paused, debating how much I should tell her. In the end, I shared all of it—except the details of my history with Austin. No one needed to know that I had fallen for his bullshit eight years ago. I was older and wiser now, and everything else was ancient history.

Grace’s eyes were wide as I told her about listening in on Austin’s evening bathroom delight.

“In the bathroom?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. “That sounds kind of dirty.”

“I think that was the point,” I offered. “Though, to be fair, it was a really nice bathroom. Very classy.”

Grace laughed. “Well, I guess if a guy takes you to a bathroom to hook up, at least he should make it a classy one.”

“Exactly,” I joked, and then let out a sigh. “You know what really sucks?”

Grace tilted her head. “What?”

“It’s the closest I’ve been to an orgasm in a long time—and it wasn’t even mine!”

Grace cracked up, and the two of us stood at our kitchen counter giggling until Grace’s alarm went off. It was eight a.m. sharp. Time for her to leave for work.

“Gotta go,” she said, giving me a hug. “Will you be home for dinner?”

I suddenly remembered the other eventful part of the evening—namely that ChatBuzz now had a new boss. And we were going to be meeting him today.

“Probably not,” I told Grace. “I’ve got a feeling that Cassie and I will be getting drinks to either celebrate or commiserate about our future at the brand new ChatBuzz.”

Grace gave me a sympathetic look. “I’m optimistic,” she said.

“You’re always optimistic,” I reminded her.

She shrugged as if to say “what else would I be?” and was out the door. I finished my coffee and then got myself together for work. When I got there, the whole building seemed to be empty—no one was at their desks—the hallways empty. It was kind of spooky, and I was a little worried until I got a text message from Cassie.

“Big meeting,” she said. “Get in here now.”

I hurried to the main meeting room, the only one that could hold enough people. It was crowded, people smushed in together. I spotted Cassie across the room, and she waved, but there was no possible way I was going to be able to make it over to her. So I stood in the door, straining to see the front of the room—and our new boss.

I heard him before I saw him.

He had a big booming voice, and it echoed through the room, silencing the various chatter immediately.

“Good morning, ChatBuzz!” he said.

I peered around the person in front of me, expecting to see a large man whose physique matched his voice. Instead, I found a short, slight guy with big glasses standing at the front of the room. His hair was slicked back and he gave the impression that he was someone who still looked to Miami Vice for fashion tips. Needless to say, he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who had his finger on the pulse of what was currently hip and interesting.

But obviously there was a reason he was here.

“As some of you have heard, I’m Richard, your new boss.” He gave the room a big, toothy smile. “You can call me Dick.”

Across the room, I caught Cassie’s gaze and she rolled her eyes.

“I’m very much looking forward to getting to know all of you, and I hope you’ll do me the same courtesy.” He clapped his hands together. “ChatBuzz’s readers have been dropping off over the past few months and we are losing our place as a reliable and fun source of entertainment online. And we don’t want that. Our goal is not just to get our numbers back to where they were at their peak, but to go above and beyond those expectations. We need to have what no one else has—whether that’s exclusive content or being the first to break important stories.”

I zoned out while he talked about “sticky content” and “optimizing shareability,” but once the meeting was over, Cassie met me back at our desks.

“Looks like it’s just going to be more of the same,” Cassie said, taking her seat at the cubicle across from mine. “More clicks! More clicks!” she pumped her fist in the air. “Fewer lawsuits! Fewer lawsuits!”

I shook my head. “Should we be surprised?”

“I guess not,” she said, leaning back in her chair.

“It would have been nice for once to have a boss that cared more about the kinds of stories we publish than how many people click a link,” I said wistfully.

The phone on my desk rang. Cassie and I stared at it. No one ever used those phones.

“This is Mia,” I said, picking up.

“Mia, this is Anita, Richard’s assistant,” the pleasant voice on the other end of the line said. “Richard would like for you to come to his office for a meeting.”

My eyes went wide. I had never, ever been called into the boss’s office for a meeting.

“Of course,” I said into the phone, trying to keep my anxiety out of my voice. “When was he thinking?”

“Right now would be best,” Anita told me.

---

Five minutes later I was sitting outside of Richard’s office, doing everything I could not to freak out. It wasn’t easy, as I was completely convinced that I was getting fired. Finally the door opened and the man himself appeared in the doorway. He smiled and waved me in.

“Mia, so nice to meet you,” he said, holding out his hand.

I took it—his hand was clammy. Or maybe it was mine. It was hard to tell.

“Thank you for coming at such short notice,” Richard continued, leading me into his office.

“Of course,” I said, taking a seat.

“So.” He settled in behind his desk, looking a little like a kid pretending to be his dad. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you up here.”

“I am a little curious,” I said. The understatement of the year.

“Well.” He pulled out a pile of paper. “I’ve had a chance to look at some of the work you’ve done for us.”

He started flipping through the articles, and I could see that most of them looked like the dumb listicles I had written. None of the few serious pieces I had done.

“Great work,” Richard said, waving the paper in my direction.

“Thank you,” I said, still unsure what was going on.

He crossed his arms and leaned forward onto his desk. “I have a special assignment for you,” he said. “Have you heard of the musician, Austin James?” he asked.

I paused. What was going on?

“He’s releasing a new solo album in two weeks,” Richard continued. “And his publicity team is willing to do an exclusive interview and profile with ChatBuzz to promote it.” He leaned back in his chair. “I want you to write it.”

I was speechless. It took me a few moments to come up with a response, as I carefully chose my words.

“I really appreciate the opportunity,” I told him. “But I think I should tell you that writing that article would be a conflict of interest. I’ve known Austin James for years. He’s friends with my brother.”

“Well, I don’t think that’s enough of a conflict of interest to reassign the project,” he said, thoughtfully. “If anything, the personal connection might make him more willing to share intimate details of his life—and that’s exactly the kind of thing we’re looking for here at ChatBuzz.”

Ugh. Gross. The last thing I wanted was to get into the “intimate” details of Austin’s life. I’d heard enough of that intimacy last night in the bathroom. “I really don’t think I’m the right person for the job,” I said desperately. “What about Jules, or Martin?”

“Now, Mia.” Richard frowned. “What did I just say about pitching in, and all hands on deck?”

I must have missed motivational speaking 101.

“I need to know who my team players are,” Richard continued. “Before I start making tough decisions.”

Wait. Was he talking about layoffs?

I gulped. “I’d love to write the piece!” I blurted loudly. “Sounds great.”

“There we go.” Richard stood, signaling our meeting was over.

“Just out of curiosity, why did you pick me for the job?” I asked, wondering if maybe he’d read something that impressed him.

“I didn’t.” Richard smiled. “His team asked for you specifically.”

---

“What the actual fuck?” I asked Cassie over lunch in Bryant Park. It was a beautiful day, and I had a slice of New York pizza, but neither were doing much to improve my mood.

“I don’t really see the problem,” Cassie said, taking the seat across from me. “You’re going to have the chance to write what you’ve always wanted: an in-depth profile of an interesting celebrity.”

“But this isn’t just journalism—this is Austin James,” I complained.

“Uh, yeah.” Cassie flicked one of the tomatoes from her salad at me. “He’s fucking gorgeous.”

“He’s a player,” I told her.

“Obviously.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s a musician. That’s what they do.”

“Tell that to my eighteen-year-old self,” I muttered.

“Excuse me?” Cassie put her fork down. “What are you not telling me?”

Right. I hadn’t given her any of the details on Austin—not even what had happened last night. I started with that—the whole thing had her in hysterical tears before I was finished.

“Oh my god.” She wiped her eyes. “That is the most New York story I’ve ever heard.”

“It gets worse,” I said darkly.

“How could it possibly get worse?” she wanted to know, so I told her about accidentally confronting him afterwards.

“And then I told him to wash his hands and threw paper towels at him.” I put my head in my hands.

Cassie stared at me. “You are my hero,” she said. “And obviously Austin didn’t care, not if he asked for you specifically. How was he?” she demanded.

I threw her tomato back at her.

“Not the point!” I argued.

“Bullshit,” she said. “If it sucked, you wouldn’t care. Obviously it was an amazing kiss.”

I refused to answer, because it had been an amazing kiss. And even eight years later, it was still the best kiss I’d ever had. Which just made me mad.

“I don’t want to see him again,” I said stubbornly.

Cassie shrugged. “I don’t think you have a choice,” she told me. “Besides, look at this as an opportunity to really prove yourself. You’re always saying you want the chance to really dig in, and write more than a listicle.”

“I’m going to have to spend all this time with a dude I hate,” I reminded her.

“Like we all haven’t done that?” she countered. “I hate most of the dudes I speak to on a regular basis, because they’re awful. It’s only a few days—a week at the most. Get in, get out.”

I sat there silently, taking in her advice. And it was good advice. If I could just focus on the story and ignore my personal feelings for Austin, this could be a really good opportunity for me. It didn’t mean that I was looking forward to it, but at least I would be getting something out of the deal.

Because I still did want to be taken seriously as a journalist. And this could do that—especially since we had a new boss. He barely knew me, so I could use this as an opportunity to really prove myself to him. To show him that I was the right person to go to with these kinds of projects.

Today, a profile of Austin James. Tomorrow, I could be pitching to write about Serena Williams, Mark Zuckerberg. Oprah!

My phone buzzed with an unfamiliar number. “This is Mia,” I answered.

“Hi, Mia, this is Zoey Mitchell—I’m Austin James’s manager.”

I took a deep breath.

“Hi, Zoey.” I made myself sound as excited and friendly as possible.

“I heard that you’ll be interviewing Austin for the ChatBuzz article,” she continued.

“That’s right,” I said. “Looking forward to it.”

“Good to hear,” she said. “We’re looking forward to it as well. There’s an event tonight that might be good for you to attend with Austin. A chance for you to talk and get to know each other.”

“Sounds good,” I lied.

“Great,” she said. “I’ll send over all the information and Austin’s schedule for the week. We want to get the two of you together as much as possible. Really dig deep for this.”

“Fantastic,” I said, sinking down to rest my forehead on the table. “Just fantastic.”