I sit at the small plywood desk in my bedroom and finger the USB stick in my hand, rubbing the smooth, cool metal over and over again. It gives me some comfort, some kind of reassurance. It’s a reminder of my original mission.

I’ve been secretly downloading Mr. Hunter’s files, stealing time here and there while I’m at work. I bring it home every night, combing through the files, looking for something I can use against him.

Then, I send everything in an email to Michelle, my editor at The Goss. Yes, that’s right. It’s one of the three biggest gossip tabloids in the country.

I don’t personally follow celebrity gossip. I’m more interested in writing serious news articles. But The Goss is a big magazine, and having it on my resumé would no doubt open doors for me and expand my network—contacts are essential for a reporter.

So I interned there last summer, and I actually came up with the idea about going undercover at the time. Michelle has promised to run my story if I manage to find anything good.

I want answers.

I want to know why Ethan Hunter does what he does, knowing how it affects people. He’s been denying the allegations for years, even though at this point, it’s public knowledge that Ethan Hunter uses his power and wealth to force people to bend to his will.

It will make a good story. Good enough to get me recognized by some of the biggest news outlets out there.

I may not have the right education and I may not have the right experience. But the right story can give me the big break that I need for my journalism career.

Honestly, I think that Melanie woman was pretty bad-ass, asking such strong questions without backing down, even when faced by two intimidating people—Ethan Hunter and Eliza.

I need to learn to be more like her. But she has a couple of decades on me. I’m sure, given time, I can get there.

But even someone like Melanie faces some limitations, just because she’s standing on the outside. I can dig up more dirt on Mr. Hunter as an insider.

That’s why I took the personal assistant job.

I can get real close to Ethan Hunter, and it pays way more than my waitressing job. As much as I like writing, the jobs in my field that actually pay with money (instead of “exposure”) are few and far between. I could use the money from the personal assistant job to support myself for now. One day, when I finally make it as a (paid) journalist, maybe I’ll be able to support my mom as well.

Maybe I’m using Ethan Hunter, but it’s only fair, after what he’s done to my family.

“Hey, what you up to?” Kira asks as she opens my bedroom door—without knocking, as usual.

She’s wearing a pair of black yoga pants and a skin-tight top stained with sweat. Her honey-brown hair is pulled up into a ponytail, with a few strands along her hairline sticking to her forehead.

Kira’s a bit of a yoga junkie, always doing weird poses in the middle of the living room. It keeps her in great shape, though. And she’s so flexible. Once, I saw her body bent in two, with her lips practically kissing her knees.

“The usual.” I bite my lips as I stare at the screen of my laptop.

“Ah, spying on your boss, I see.”

“He’s not my boss. I’m undercover. So he’s not my real boss.”

“His name is on your pay checks, which you use to pay the rent. So I’m going to keep calling him your boss,” Kira says.

I give her a look, then sigh and remain quiet.

“What’s wrong?” Kira asks. “You don’t usually roll over and take it when I tease you about your boss.”

Kira’s my roommate and my best friend. And she’s the only one who knows what I’m really up to. To everyone else, I’m just another boring personal assistant.

“Something really weird happened today,” I say.

Before I walked out of Mr. Hunter’s office, both Lana and Eliza told me to never tell a soul about what had happened. But I can’t just keep it inside me. I’m already hiding too many secrets as it is.

“Sounds intriguing.” Kira takes a seat on the edge of my bed. “Tell me all about it.”

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“Start from the beginning.”

I roll my eyes. I have no idea which moment began the whole train of crazy today.

“Come on. Tell me.” Kira grabs my arm and playfully pull on it.

“Okay. So, you know how my boss is a ruthless, heartless monster?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

I start to tell Kira the story, beginning from when Mr. Hunter told me to pick up her daughter, to the six-figure offer that he gave me before the end of the day.

Kira gets more and more interested as the story unfolds. By the end, her eyes have grown as big as saucers.

“Two-hundred thousand dollars? Per year? For two years?” Kira asks, disbelief written all over her face.

“For one or two years,” I correct her.

“Well, I mean, still. Oh my god, Megan. That’s a buttload of money. You’re going to be rich. And famous. Let me visit your mansion sometimes, okay? Remember me, your friend who has always been there for you, even when you were broke.”

“Don’t be silly, Kira. I’m not even supposed to tell people about it. Besides, it’s his mansion. It won’t be my mansion.”

“You’re not supposed to tell people about it now. And you’re not supposed to tell anyone that it’s fake. But as soon as it goes public, you can totally tell everyone you’re married and throw crazy parties at his mansion. It’ll be like the new Playboy Mansion.”

I laugh. “Yeah, well, who knows? It’s a crazy plan. I don’t think they’re actually going to do it.”

“It sounds crazy to you,” Kira says. “But you’re not a billionaire. Mega-rich people are nuts. Let me educate you in the ways of billionaires. They don’t have money problems, right? But everybody who’s alive in this world has problems, right? What kind of problems do you think rich people have, then?”

I stare flatly at Kira. I’m not in the mood for a guessing game. Not when I’m exhausted and stressed out after an unusually long and crazy day.

“Oh, you’re no fun tonight!” Kira exclaims. In a lower voice, she says, “They have problems with lawsuits and bad publicity.”

“You mean, exactly the problems that Mr. Hunter is having?”

“Yeah. And you, my friend, are the answer to all of his problems. It may seem weird to you. But just think about this. If you were able to do something and solve all your problems at once, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Exactly.”

“And how do you know all these things?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at Kira.

“I watch a lot of celebrity news when I’m doing yoga.”

“I thought yoga was supposed to make you zen. Celebrity news doesn’t sound very zen,” I say.

“Just trust me.”

I let Kira’s words sink in. She’s right. I’ve been thinking about this all wrong.

I couldn’t believe they’d spend six figures a year just to have me pretend to be Mr. Hunter’s wife. They even told me I wouldn’t have to work and I could spend most of my time shopping on Mr. Hunter’s credit cards if I wanted to.

I got suspicious. It didn’t make any sense at all, in my mind.

But if it’s not about the money, but rather about problem-solving…

“Kira, you’re a genius,” I say.

“I know. So you’re going to do it, or what?”

“If I do it, I could get inside his house and gain access to his private information. I could find some proof. I haven’t been able to find anything useful at the office. It’s possible he’s hiding everything at home,” I muse to myself.

“Wow. Two-hundred thousand dollars a year, and all you can think of is gathering some stupid intel, which may not even exist. Why do you want to be a journalist so badly anyway? Journalists get paid peanuts. Newspapers are closing down, left and right. The media industry is monopolized by a handful of big corporations. There’s no job security in it, Megan. If I were you, I’d work on becoming the real Mrs. Hunter.”

“Thank you for the pep talk, Kira. Good to know you think I couldn’t do better than be a housewife.”

“Do better than be a housewife to a freaking billionaire? Megan, if you think being overworked and underpaid is better than being rich and famous, I don’t know what to say to you.”

“It’s not just about the money, Kira.” I let out a big sigh. We’ve been through this discussion more times than I can remember.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Your parents lost their business because of Hunter Corporation,” she says. “Look, it’s not personal. It has happened to thousands of other small businesses all over the country. Get over it.”

“See? You said it yourself. It has happened to thousands of other people. Shouldn’t Ethan Hunter pay for that? For taking away the livelihoods of all those families? For breaking those families apart?”

“You know that not everybody takes it as badly as you did, right?” Kira asks.

“Well, maybe they just can’t fight back. It’s up to me to give them a voice.”

“How noble of you,” Kira says, laughing. “Okay, then, whatever the reason, I think we both agree you should do it. Money, fame, and…” Kira pauses to let out a big, dramatic sigh, “…and a career in journalism await you.”

“Yeah. That’s the way to move forward, right?” I ask, even though I’ve already made my decision.

“Exactly. Remember this the next time you can’t make a decision: all you need is one conversation with me to find the answer you’re seeking,” Kira says as she folds her legs up onto the bed and get into a lotus position, pretending to be meditating.

I pull her into a hug and kiss her on the cheek. “Maybe I won’t be able to invite you to the mansion, but I’ll take you to the celebration dinner for the journalistic award I’m going to receive for this story. And I’ll thank you in the speech. I’ll mention your name and everything.”