ELEVEN
Cadence
Kelly’s story became one of the blog’s top priorities after that strange phone call from Sloane Ross. I wasn’t even completely sure how the woman had gotten my phone number. I couldn’t imagine Keir volunteering it. Hell, he’d probably deleted it, maybe even changed his own number to avoid ever speaking to me again.
The anger in his voice and the total one-eighty of his personality were keeping me up at night. How was it that I was still paying for my mother’s sins? Why was I always the one to end up hurt? I’d thought that I’d left her behind in Philadelphia. But here she was. It wasn’t even on purpose, it was a big, terrible coincidence that led her to Glenn. It was both good and awful luck that led me to Keir.
But that’s just the way my life goes. Wherever I went, whatever I did, she would be the tornado that knocked it all down.
At least Wendi was pleased with me. There was a woman worth looking up to. I’d gone right to Zach after Sloane’s phone call, and he’d brought me in with him to pitch the story to Wendi.
“Kelly sucked her way out of rehab,” he announced with barely a hello.
Wendi folded her fingers and held them to her chin. “Go on.”
Zach poked me, urging me to speak. “Oh. Um—”
“No ‘ums’ in my office,” Wendi said with a tsk. “Start over.”
I cleared my throat. “A source told me that Keir’s ex-girlfriend—Kelly, the model—used sexual favors to get herself released from rehab early.”
“And why do we want to run this story?”
My eyes flickered to Zach, but he didn’t answer. “Because people like salacious gossip about models?” I asked.
She nodded. “I’ll take it. Next time don’t answer with a question. Zach, get the research team on it. See if we can identify the doctor, get a picture. Talk to someone else who was there at the same time.” The research team included me. I started to follow him out the door, but Wendi called me back. “Cadence. Let’s chat.”
Zach winked at me and closed the door.
“That’s not bad,” she said. “That’s what I’m talking about. Digging. Wasn’t the celebrity I was looking for, but it will do. For now.”
I didn’t mention that the story had been dropped in my lap by Sloane for who-knew-what reasons.
“I’ll keep working,” I said, though I had no plan in mind. I’d come up with something. Ever since our first chat, I really wanted to do well.
“Okay,” she said, nodding. “You get three questions.”
“Huh?”
She looked me up and down, and suddenly I wished I’d dressed better. Jeans and a t-shirt were fine for research assistant, but if I ever wanted to impress her, I would have to aim a little higher. “I see that fangirl look in your eyes,” she said. “You get three career questions. Shoot.”
“Oh.” Shit . My mind drew a blank. “Well, I want to be a photographer, and–” I stopped myself from uttering another “um.” “I’m wondering how to go about doing that. Making a career of it.”
She counted her advice off on her fingers. “Make a website. Make business cards. Network. Network. Network.” That was three fingers for networking. I was afraid of that . I was still working on overcoming some of my shyness.
“How do I do that, exactly? Network?”
“Make friends, go out, ask for introductions.”
I smiled sheepishly. “How would I become a photographer for you? For the blog?”
She tapped her fingers on her desk. “If you take some photos worth posting, we’ll purchase them.” Her chair rolled back and hit the wall with the force of her abruptly rising to her feet. “I’m sending you to Denver.”
“What?”
“You heard me, girl. You’re my new liaison to the Sonders, and I want some dirt. He’s… well, both of you—you guys are trending right now. I want to hear about him fucking some groupie or getting drunk in public. Anything. Zach will go with you.”
My heart seized. She was sending me to see him? There
Cadence
Kelly’s story became one of the blog’s top priorities after that strange phone call from Sloane Ross. I wasn’t even completely sure how the woman had gotten my phone number. I couldn’t imagine Keir volunteering it. Hell, he’d probably deleted it, maybe even changed his own number to avoid ever speaking to me again.
The anger in his voice and the total one-eighty of his personality were keeping me up at night. How was it that I was still paying for my mother’s sins? Why was I always the one to end up hurt? I’d thought that I’d left her behind in Philadelphia. But here she was. It wasn’t even on purpose, it was a big, terrible coincidence that led her to Glenn. It was both good and awful luck that led me to Keir.
But that’s just the way my life goes. Wherever I went, whatever I did, she would be the tornado that knocked it all down.
At least Wendi was pleased with me. There was a woman worth looking up to. I’d gone right to Zach after Sloane’s phone call, and he’d brought me in with him to pitch the story to Wendi.
“Kelly sucked her way out of rehab,” he announced with barely a hello.
Wendi folded her fingers and held them to her chin. “Go on.”
Zach poked me, urging me to speak. “Oh. Um—”
“No ‘ums’ in my office,” Wendi said with a tsk. “Start over.”
I cleared my throat. “A source told me that Keir’s ex-girlfriend—Kelly, the model—used sexual favors to get herself released from rehab early.”
“And why do we want to run this story?”
My eyes flickered to Zach, but he didn’t answer. “Because people like salacious gossip about models?” I asked.
She nodded. “I’ll take it. Next time don’t answer with a question. Zach, get the research team on it. See if we can identify the doctor, get a picture. Talk to someone else who was there at the same time.” The research team included me. I started to follow him out the door, but Wendi called me back. “Cadence. Let’s chat.”
Zach winked at me and closed the door.
“That’s not bad,” she said. “That’s what I’m talking about. Digging. Wasn’t the celebrity I was looking for, but it will do. For now.”
I didn’t mention that the story had been dropped in my lap by Sloane for who-knew-what reasons.
“I’ll keep working,” I said, though I had no plan in mind. I’d come up with something. Ever since our first chat, I really wanted to do well.
“Okay,” she said, nodding. “You get three questions.”
“Huh?”
She looked me up and down, and suddenly I wished I’d dressed better. Jeans and a t-shirt were fine for research assistant, but if I ever wanted to impress her, I would have to aim a little higher. “I see that fangirl look in your eyes,” she said. “You get three career questions. Shoot.”
“Oh.” Shit . My mind drew a blank. “Well, I want to be a photographer, and–” I stopped myself from uttering another “um.” “I’m wondering how to go about doing that. Making a career of it.”
She counted her advice off on her fingers. “Make a website. Make business cards. Network. Network. Network.” That was three fingers for networking. I was afraid of that . I was still working on overcoming some of my shyness.
“How do I do that, exactly? Network?”
“Make friends, go out, ask for introductions.”
I smiled sheepishly. “How would I become a photographer for you? For the blog?”
She tapped her fingers on her desk. “If you take some photos worth posting, we’ll purchase them.” Her chair rolled back and hit the wall with the force of her abruptly rising to her feet. “I’m sending you to Denver.”
“What?”
“You heard me, girl. You’re my new liaison to the Sonders, and I want some dirt. He’s… well, both of you—you guys are trending right now. I want to hear about him fucking some groupie or getting drunk in public. Anything. Zach will go with you.”
My heart seized. She was sending me to see him? There
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