Bad Liar (The Reed Rivers Trilogy 1)

Hands-on. In a flash, my body remembers what it felt like to have Reed’s greedy hands on me as he kissed me. I’m suddenly remembering the scent of his cologne. The delicious roughness of his stubble. The death grip of his palms on my ass that made me delirious with arousal... He wanted to tie me to his bed posts. My cheeks hot, I clear my throat. “So, he’s already agreed to do the interview... with me?”

“He has.”

“But I mean... with me, specifically?”

CeeCee tilts her head like Scooby Doo sniffing out a snack.

“I mean, does he know I’m a newbie?” I add quickly. “Does he know I’m straight out of journalism school, with no experience?”

CeeCee nods. “Yes, Reed and I talked about that very thing, and he smartly recognized, as do I, that you’ll bring a fresh, exciting energy and voice to the project.” She smiles kindly. “Don’t be nervous, Georgina. I’m sure, after seeing Reed on that panel, you’re a bit intimidated. And I don’t blame you. He’s incredibly successful and confident. And his communication style is blunt and unapologetic, to say the least. But he’s a very good friend of mine, and I can honestly say he’s a sweetheart underneath all that swagger. Plus, he trusts my judgment. And I’ve told him I’ve got a lot of faith in you.”

A shudder of nerves sweeps through me. “I hope I’m able to prove you right.”

“You will. It was when you talked about bartending during our coffee date that I knew you’d be a fantastic interviewer. Like I told you then, bartending is just another form of what a journalist does. As a bartender, you’ve honed the art of talking to people. Listening to them. Making connections in a short amount of time and getting them to open up. Now, you’ll be taking those skills and simply putting the experience down on paper—which your writing samples, and Gilda’s high praise of you, lead me to believe you’ll be able to do with ease.”

“Thank you so much. I didn’t really think of bartending being related to journalism in that way. But I think you’re right.”

“Of course, I am.” She leans forward conspiratorially. “I’m most excited to see how you’re going to handle Reed’s interview. I have a strong feeling he’ll be uncharacteristically chatty with you.”

I press my lips together, suddenly feeling sick. Shit. Is this my cue to come clean? To confess to CeeCee that Reed likely won’t be uncharacteristically chatty with me, because, surprise, the last time I saw the man, I kissed the hell out of him, rubbed my aching clit against his huge dick like a cat in heat... and then left him standing at his front gate with not only blue balls, but, almost certainly, a firm desire to never lay eyes on me again?

“I feel like I should tell you something,” CeeCee says, taking the words right out of my mouth. She leans back into her chair again. “For the past two years, ever since I first conceived of launching Dig a Little Deeper, I’ve been begging Reed to give me a full-length, in-depth interview for that magazine. But he’s always said no.” She steeples her manicured fingers. “You might not know this, but Reed’s father was a notorious white collar criminal who killed himself in prison when Reed was nineteen or twenty. His father’s case was extremely high profile. All over the news. And yet, Reed never, ever talks about it. Certainly not publicly, anyway. And not with me, despite the fact that I’ve known him ten years. And yet, I think that’s the one thing the world would be most fascinated to hear him talk about.”

I swallow hard. “Yeah, I think I read something about that on Reed’s Wikipedia page.”

Shit. I clamp my mouth shut, instantly regretting I let it slip I’ve already read up on Reed. But, thankfully, CeeCee doesn’t seem to notice my blunder.

Without missing a beat, CeeCee says, “Of course, the friend in me would never push Reed to talk about his father, if he doesn’t wish to do so. But the journalist in me wants you to be aware of the existence of this dynamic, just in case it happens to come up. If, by some chance, Reed slowly opens up with you throughout the summer, and you get the chance to expand the scope of your initial interview—to ‘dig a little deeper,’ shall we say, beyond what we’d normally expect to write about in Rock ‘n’ Roll—then I want you to run with it, without hesitation.”

I process CeeCee’s words for a moment. “Are you saying if I’m successful in getting a really in-depth interview of Reed, you’ll publish it in Dig a Little Deeper, instead of Rock ‘n’ Roll?”

CeeCee shrugs. “I’m saying I’m open to the idea. Of course, I’ve got no interest in tricking Reed. That should go without saying. He’s my friend and I love him. What I’m saying, however, is that, if it turns out Reed is responding well to you, and you see an opportunity to go more in-depth with him than originally thought—with his consent, of course—then I want you to seize that chance.”