“And as you can see—” Tristan continues.
Jameson holds his hand up. “Stop there.” He turns his attent
ion to me. “What is it, Emily?”
I stare at him.
“What did you want to say, then?”
My eyes flick between the four men. “With all due respect, Mr. Miles, I didn’t apply for my dream job to do bogus stories.”
“Fair point,” he snaps as he rubs his thumb over his fingertips.
“What’s going to happen when this is all over?” I ask.
“You will return to your normal duties.”
“I would like that in writing, please,” I snap.
Elliot smirks and drops his head.
Jameson’s eyes hold mine. “Very well.” He turns his attention back to Tristan. “Please continue.”
“The investigator will be starting next week on Monday, and Emily, we would like you to be his eyes on the floor.”
I frown. “I don’t really want to get involved in all this.”
“You involved yourself the moment you stepped through my office door,” Jameson replies.
I drop my head. God.
“Emily, if you could give us a few bogus stories to start with next Monday, that would be great.”
“Okay, what would you like me to write about?”
Jameson’s eyes meet mine. “The first story I would like to be about a fake prostitution racket.”
I frown in question.
“Call the ringleader a two-bit whore.”
The fucking nerve of this man. “Okay.” I smile sweetly. “I have enough material to work with on that one.”
“Good.” Tristan smiles. “Work on those stories, and we will touch base next Monday afternoon.”
“Yes, okay,” I reply as I stand and walk toward the door. “Sounds good.”
“Emily, I’d like to see you for a moment, please,” Jameson replies calmly.
I stop on the spot. Seriously?
The boys file out of the office. “Bye, Emily,” they call.
“Bye.”
The door closes behind them, and Jameson stands and walks up behind me.
I can feel the heat from his body. The power he emanates is like nothing I’ve ever felt.