.

I can,” she managed to reply. “I — I think I’m kind of busy next week.” Was she insane? Was she really refusing a dinner date with a gorgeous, sexy man, a man who looked like Henry Cavill and Hugh Dancy all rolled into one?

      Puzzlement coloured his voice. “I don’t understand. You think you’re busy next week, but you’re not sure?”

      “Oh, I’m busy,” she said quickly. “There’s no question of that.”

      “This doesn’t have anything to do with the thong, does it? As to that, I can explain—”

      “Please don’t.” Her words were clipped. “It’s none of my business, after all.”

      “But it’s not what you think.”

      “What I think doesn’t matter.”

      “Very well,” he said after a moment, “I’ll say goodbye, then. If you have any more questions, please call. Sorry if I was a bit of an arse today.”

      “A bit of an arse?” she said. “You were a complete prat.”

      To her surprise, he laughed. All right, it was a small laugh, not a loud guffaw, but still. He did have a sense of humour somewhere under all that starch and correctness. “I suppose I was, yes.”

      “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” Of course, Holly had no intention of calling him again, no matter how attractive he was. What would she say? Hello, Alex, it’s Ms James from BritTEEN. You remember…the girl you threw out of your office and who called you a prat. Oh, and by the way, did you find my tampon? I think it rolled under your desk…

      “No, it’s fine. I think we had a mutually crap day today.”

      “Really? Why was yours crap?”

      “Bit of a long story.” He paused. “I’d much rather discuss it with you over dinner.”

      She clicked open her interview document and stared at the photos of Alex. He was unquestionably sinful to look at. She couldn’t just hang up, never to see him again. Suddenly she found herself blurting, “Perhaps we could meet up for lunch one day next week. I think I could manage that.”

      “Excellent.” His voice was tinged with amusement. “Glad you could fit me into your busy schedule, Ms James.”

      “I’m a very busy girl, Mr Barrington,” she informed him as she ran his interview document through the spell checker. “I’ll see you next week, then.”

      “I’ll have Jill check my schedule and get back to you on Monday morning, if that suits.”

      “That suits perfectly,” Holly murmured. His voice — so warm and sexy and posh — had gone straight to her brain and frozen it, while making the rest of her feel decidedly warm. “I’ll talk to you then. Bye.”

       Chapter 7

      To: [email protected]

      From: [email protected]

      Valery - Attached is Holly James’s “One Outrageous Question” interview with Henry Barrington, a City solicitor/financier. Not sure if Holly’s up to standard on this one, felt it didn’t quite suit our content, but she insisted, so here it is.

      Personally, have my doubts.

      Sasha

      Sasha clicked “send”. There. Her email to Valery would hammer a nice, sharp nail in the coffin of Holly James’s soon-to-be-over career at BritTEEN. She grabbed her mobile, scrolled down the list of programmed numbers, and pressed the last.

      “It’s done,” she said without preamble as the line was answered. “Meet you in twenty at the usual place.”

      Sasha scanned her desk one last time and prepared to head out. She reapplied her lipstick, Chanel’s latest — she’d raided the magazine’s beauty closet — and pressed her lips together. As she tossed the lipstick and mobile in her bag and gathered up her things, her inbox pinged.

      To: [email protected]

      From: [email protected]

      Go with it. It’s fresh and vibrant and exactly the kick in the arse BritTEEN needs. Guitar-smashing pop stars and flavour-of-the-week starlets are so bloody yesterday.

      Want this as our featured Q&A article next month. Ensure it goes in the book before close of business Monday.

      Afterwards, come to my office. We need to talk.

      VB

      Valery Beauchamp

      Editor-in-Chief

      BritTEEN Magazine

      “Damn it!” Rage suffused Sasha’s face as she reread the email from her boss. She slammed her laptop shut. Valery was supposed to nix Holly’s interview, not feature it in the next bloody issue! And what the hell did she want to talk about?

      A tiny tremor of fear crept through her. Valery wanted to get rid of her; she was sure of it. Her boss had been distant and cold — not that she wasn’t normally distant and cold, but even more so than usual — convincing Sasha that Valery was displeased with her work performance. She’d heard rumours that Holly was being groomed to move up into another position…

      Which might mean that Sasha was being replaced.

      Sasha didn’t like Valery, but she loved her job. When she’d first arrived at the magazine, she’d been straight out of university and thrilled to be hired as a junior editorial assistant. Despite the long hours, low pay, and serious curtailment of her social life, she’d revelled in being a part of the editorial team.

      And although she sometimes grew weary of Valery’s unceasing demands and the high-pressure deadlines, with her recent promotion to Features Editor she now had a crack staff — except for Holly bloody James — to oversee, and a sense of satisfaction at how far she’d come. No more council estates or crummy bedsits for her.

      Despite its drawbacks, Sasha reminded herself, she liked her job and meant to keep it. She had to keep it, at least until she found something better — like a rich husband — or got a promotion or a hefty pay rise. She needed the money, after all; she had bills to pay. Crushing bills that she could barely keep up with…

      Sasha clasped her hands together to stop them from shaking. She knew her team all thought she was a shallow, bloody-minded bitch. And perhaps, sometimes, she was. But she got things done. Despite everything, she got things done…

      Her mobile phone rang.

      “Hello?” she snapped. She listened for a moment, and her voice softened. “Hello, how are you? That’s great… I’m glad to hear it.” She paused. “No, I can’t see you tonight, love. Perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow. Yes, okay. I promise.”

      She rang off and leaned back in the chair. A headache was brewing. As she rubbed her forehead in a vain attempt to ease the tightness, Sasha realized she couldn’t keep this up much longer. It was all getting to be too much.

      As she glanced again at Valery’s email on her laptop screen, her resolve hardened. She had to find another way to sabotage Holly. She retrieved her mobile and hit redial.

      “It’s me again. There’s been a change of plan. Meet me in my office as soon as you can.” She paused at the protests that filled her ear. “Just do it!” she snapped. “If you want to be the next features sub-editor — and if you don’t want me to tell Valery you didn’t actually graduate from business school — then you need to help me get rid of Holly. Or you’ll continue making copies and fetching coffee for a very long time. I’ll see to it.”

      Sasha snapped the phone shut and strode to the smaller office adjoining hers. Scowling, she began to riffle through Holly’s desk, looking for her interview notes. There had