Bad Liar (The Reed Rivers Trilogy 1)

I bite my lip, my mind whirring and clacking. “If I do get something amazing out of Reed, something that knocks your socks off, and you wind up publishing it in Dig a Little Deeper... would you hire me for that magazine?”

CeeCee shrugs nonchalantly, but I can tell by the twinkle in her eye, I’ve asked the exact right question. “I can’t answer that without reading the piece first.” She weaves her fingers together. “But, yes, of course, I’m open to the possibility of hiring you at Dig a Little Deeper after your summer internship, if you prove to me you’ve got the chops for it.”

I’m lightheaded. Dizzy. Overwhelmed with ambition and excitement. “I’m going to knock this out of the park, CeeCee. You’ll see.”

She chuckles. “Darling, I truly believe you will.”

We talk about the logistics of my job for a bit. The fact that some guy named Owen, and not Reed, will be my contact at the label—which, admittedly, calms my nerves about the whole thing.

Finally, CeeCee says, “Okay, let’s talk turkey about the animals in the zoo for a bit, shall we?”

“The animals... ?”

“The musicians you’re going to be interacting with on a daily basis, and partying with, and making friends with, all summer long. Because that’s what always happens with musicians. They invite the writers to party with them, and peek into their lives, even if it’s just for one crazy day. And, of course, you’ll always say yes to any invitation, because the best interviews happen off-the-cuff, in the moment, when you’re a part of their lives.”

I nod.

“The downside of all that, of course, is that, sometimes, they forget you’re there to do a job, rather than be their groupie.”

“Ah.”

“I’m sure this won’t come as a shock to you, Georgie, but musicians, especially ones of the male variety, aren’t known for being particularly restrained around women, especially exceptionally attractive women, like you.”

I blush. “Thank you.”

She leans forward in her chair. “Don’t take any shit from them, Georgina. You’re not a sex object. You’re a professional journalist for an esteemed magazine. Party with them. Have a blast. Be their friend. But never forget they need you as much as you need them. That’s how this machine works. It’s symbiotic. The musicians make the music, yes, but they’d be nothing without their fans. And they need publicity to get and keep their fans. They need mystique and validation, which my magazine provides to them better than anyone else. You’re every bit as powerful as they are, Georgie, I promise you that. You got that?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I flex my arm muscle, and she chuckles.

“I’ve made it clear to Owen you’re to be treated with professionalism and respect, by everyone. I don’t care how big a star any particular guy might be, if someone hits on you and makes you feel uncomfortable, then you’re to go straight to Owen or to me, and we’ll set the brute straight, without a moment’s hesitation. You understand?”

“I do. Perfectly. Thank you so much for looking out for me. But don’t worry. I was a bartender, remember? And a waitress before that. I’ve handled ‘animals at the zoo’ many times, and still managed to walk away with great tips.”

“You see? I told you bartending was a perfect training ground.” She picks up a pen and fidgets with it. “Any questions, my love? I’ve got to run off to a meeting in five.”

I bite my lip, weighing the pros and cons of asking the question on the tip of my tongue, and finally decide it’s going to be a long summer, if I don’t ask it. “Yeah, just one question.” I clear my throat. “What if I’m partying with someone and having a blast and befriending them, like you’ve told me is smart to do... and what if someone flirts with me, or hits on me... and I actually like it? A lot. What happens then?” My cheeks bloom with embarrassment. “I mean, I don’t want to do anything unprofessional. Or cross any forbidden lines. It’s just that... if I find someone insanely attractive, and I’m single, and so are they, am I allowed to make it clear I like being hit on by this particular person, or would that be considered unprofessional and a big no-no?”

Thankfully, CeeCee doesn’t look the least bit shocked or appalled by my question. Only amused. Indeed, so much so, she’s smiling from ear to ear. “Have I mentioned I really like you, Georgina?” She laughs heartily. “Sweetie, go for it. Insanely hot men grow on trees in the music industry, and you can always do whatever the hell you want with them, just as long as it’s what you want to do, for you, and not because you think it’s required for the job.” She smiles slyly. “To be honest, I can’t even count the number of times I’ve slept with a musician I met on the job. And some of them were huge household names, too.” She winks. “This was all long before I met my beloved Francois, of course. But, whew! I’ve definitely had my fun out in the field. And I don’t regret a single minute of it.” CeeCee makes a big show of looking right, and then left, as if she’s about to tell me a secret in a crowded room. She leans forward, a naughty expression on her face. “In fact, I’ve conducted some of my most ‘probing’ interviews while lying buck naked next to my interview subject... in bed.”