I stand and make my way to the door. “I’ll let you know when I set up the interview,” I call as I’m walking out. I’m not even remotely excited for what I’m sure is going to be a snooze fest of a presser.
When I return to my desk, Abigail is there holding out a large cup of coffee to me, looking completely put together after having been at my place the night before, drinking wine until well past midnight. I kind of hate her right now.
“You’re an absolute saint,” I tell her, taking the cup of liquid gold from her. Okay, I hate her less now.
“Probably in a past life. I figured you would need it this morning. It’s my way of an apology for keeping you up past your bedtime last night.” She snickers as she leans against my desk.
“Hey, some of us like to get eight hours of sleep before work. Don’t knock it till you try it.” I collapse in my chair, already exhausted by this day, while holding the cup of coffee that will hopefully give me the motivation to do a bit of research on Donovan Hayes before the press conference.
“Yeah, sounds boring. Anyway, how’s Lindsey this morning? She seemed a little distracted last night.”
“Still sleeping when I left. I know she’s been working on some story that has her staying up late following leads. She hasn’t really talked too much to me about it, though.”
My little sister, Lindsey, is a freelance investigative reporter and co-conspirator of the “let’s keep Kasey up too late before work” party we had at my apartment last night. The idea of not having a steady income gives me hives just thinking about it, but I doubt she could ever be tied to a desk like me. Sometimes I wonder how I stand it, but bills don’t care how the money is made, just as long as they’re paid on time. So here I am.
“Speaking of stories, I heard Gus is going to have you cover the Hayes press conference.”
“Yup, looks like I drew the short straw. Again.”
“Oh, come on, Kase, that man is eye candy for the entire female population. I could think of worse ways to spend a Monday.” She’s not totally wrong.
“Gus is just going to want a fluff piece, and I’m sick of fluff pieces. He could be the hottest man on the planet, but he screams uptight and boring. There’s nothing there but baby kissing and the usual campaign promises, I’m sure. That’s not going to get me anywhere but bored to tears.”
“That’s why you get paid the big bucks. Make him interesting. He already has the looks thing going for him, but what makes the man tick? I’ve covered him and his brother at charity events. His mom is an absolute sweetheart. His brother, Jackson, not so much. That man is a pig, hitting on anything in a skirt, but Donovan has always been very polite even if he is a bit uptight.”
“I would rather write about his brother. I bet there’s a story there.”
“Well, you know what Gus likes to say—”
“You have to walk before you can run,” we both say, laughing at the same time.
Abigail is a life and style reporter for the Sun. It’s the complete opposite of what I want for my career, but Abigail loves it. Glamour and society events get her out of bed in the morning. We are opposites in just about every way, but I would go insane here without her.
“Okay, I have to get to work. The rich and famous wait for no one. Enjoy the coffee now and the man candy later.” Abigail winks as she straightens up and heads to her desk.
A couple hours later, after my much-needed caffeine fix and a pep talk from Abigail, I’m in a cab on my way to the Hayes estate. Thankfully, rush hour has passed and the morning rain with it, even though that can turn on a dime when it’s springtime in Philly. The street in front of the estate is lined with cars.
“I’ll be lucky if I can see him at all,” I mutter under my breath. It looks like every reporter in the area has come out for the press conference. I suppose when a congressman’s son decides to run for senator, some might think it’s a big deal. Continuing the political dynasty and all that. To me, though, he’s just a rich man’s son who was probably bred to follow in his father’s footsteps. Nothing exciting or newsworthy about that. But what I think and what my editor expects me to write about are often two different things.
“How are you feeling this morning?” I hear a familiar voice ask as I exit the cab. I turn and take my sister in. She doesn’t look worse for the wear after our late night. If there was ever a girl to be jealous of, it would be my sister. I wish I could pull off the effortless style she seems to have in spades. Her soft blond hair always has that perfect wave that would take me hours to get right. Along with her bright blue eyes and sun-kissed skin, she looks like she would be at home on any beach rather than a reporter in Philadelphia. Maybe that’s why she’s so good at her job. No one suspects the innocent-looking blonde across the room.
“Hey, Lindsey, I didn’t expect to see you here,” I reply. More people are showing up and I’m getting anxious about all of us fitting inside the gate. The front lawn is big, but the cars keep pulling up with more and more people piling out.
“I was in the neighborhood and thought it might be a good idea to check out what this guy has to say, and I figured I would run into my favorite sister while I was here.”
“This is not the neighborhood you spent the night in last night. I can’t even afford to live within a five-mile radius of this neighborhood. What are you really doing here?”
“Jeez, cranky much?” She rolls her eyes at me. “I talked to Abigail this morning, and she told me you were here covering the Hayes press conference. I wanted to see my sister in action, so I came down. Abigail said you’ve had coffee, so what gives with the mood?”
“Sorry, it’s been the Monday of all Mondays. Gus wants another fluff piece and I’m not feeling too thrilled about it.”
“No worries. I still love you. You’re still my favorite sister.” Uh-oh, I know that innocent-looking smile she’s giving me.
“I’m your only sister. You’re laying it on pretty thick this morning. It’s almost as if you need something,” I tell her.
Lindsey and I were always close growing up. Our dad died when Lindsey was a freshman in high school and I was a senior. After that, our relationship changed. We weren’t just two kids growing up together anymore. I had to keep track of her life and help our mom through her grief while dealing with my own. I couldn’t be the typical eighteen-year-old senior getting ready to leave the nest. The nest needed me there. So when I went to college, I stayed close to home and took care of her and my mom. She wanted her fun sister, who was excited to leave so that she could come visit on weekends, and instead she got another mother making sure her homework was getting done and she wasn’t getting into trouble.
“Lindsey, it’s getting late and I really need to get in there and find a seat. Out with it,” I tell her.
She huffs. I’m sure she thinks I just want to brush her off and get on with my day.
“Can we get together for drinks tonight, just the two of us? I know it’s a work night, but I want to check out a new bar and it won’t be super crowded on a Monday,” she says.
“Seriously, a bar on a Monday? That’s what was so important? No. Absolutely not. We were up late last night with Abigail and I have to work on this story for Gus. No way.”
“Okay, mom.” She rolls her eyes.
Damn it, she really knows how to get to me. Just because I’ve had to be the responsible one doesn’t mean I like it. I know this is a bad idea. I know it, but when she pulls the mom card on me, all I want is to be the fun one again.
“Fine. One drink. I mean it, Lindsey. I’m not staying out late.” I know I’ll be staying out late.
She smiles triumphantly. That little shit knew exactly what she was doing and that it was going to work.
“Okay, I’ll text you the address later. It’s a place called Club Noir. It’s pretty exclusive, but I know the bartender who can get us in. We’ll have fun, I promise.”
Famous last words.