Chosen by a Killer by Laurie Nave (fastest ebook reader TXT) 📕

“Any idea who would be running things if we did get absorbed?” Julia sounded concerned.

“If they replace John, they’ll want someone with name recognition and big story guns.”

Julia sat back and smiled. “It could be you.”

“I dunno. It’s kind of a boys’ club.”

“Julia, you have more balls than any man in this office. I don’t know everything you’re working on, but I got the idea in our meeting that John seems a little rattled.”

Celia considered John’s words. If something was stirring, it might explain his paranoia. “Oh well, there’s no use speculating. If something that big is going on, it won’t be a secret for long.”

“True.” Julia grabbed her water bottle and stood. “Thanks for the water. I’ll let you get back to work.”

Once Julia was gone, Celia thought about what she’d said. Was John worried about his job? Was that why he was so skittish and testy? Celia had to admit, the thought of moving up appealed to her. She was doing well now, but a promotion within a bigger media corporation would give her more freedom and more clout. And she’d be one of the few women in that position. A buy-out would also explain why John was so worried about this story that had fallen into Celia’s lap. Being the only journalist with real access into Natasha Bronlov’s life was a distinction that would certainly come with some perks and recognition.

As she returned to her tasks, Celia imagined what it would be like to have a more authoritative position. She liked the idea. Maybe it was just gossip, but if not, she was going to throw her hat into the ring, forget about John. This was her livelihood and her passion. A moody man operating above his pay grade wasn’t going to get in the way.

Chapter 12

“I saw you in the newspaper this week,” Natasha said as Celia sat and began setting up the recorder.

“You read the newspaper?”

“Not typically,” Natasha replied. “Occasionally a guard will leave me theirs. This time Keith gave it to me with the request that I return it when I was done.”

Celia opened her notebook. “Ah, you must have seen photos from the gala. I did see Keith there. He was working security.”

“Yes, he mentioned you were there. I do hate that newspaper photos are black and white, though. What color was your dress?”

“It was navy blue. I’d worn it before.”

“You looked great, and that date of yours was certainly hot. Someone new?”

“No, not new. It was just a date for the gala.”

Natasha smiled. “Is he the one you had the date with before? The recorder isn’t on yet. Surely you can give me a first name.”

Celia sighed. “His name is Bart. Yes, we’ve been out a few times.”

Natasha put her elbow on the table and leaned forward. “He looks very professional. Potential long-term material?”

Celia laughed. “The jury is still out. I thought yes, then no, and now I’m undecided. He’s a bit... enthusiastic for my tastes.”

“Lucky him,” Natasha teased. “I’ve never had much luck with long-term. Of course, I also never had much desire.”

Celia turned on the recorder as Natasha continued. “My parents’ relationship was less than inspiring.”

“Yes, you mentioned there was conflict.”

“I’m sure someone like my father would be hard for any woman to live with. My meek mother was certainly no match for him.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed that when you dated before your arrest, you tended to be paired with men who had a strong presence.”

Natasha laughed. “That was very tactful. What you mean is that I had a thing for handsome, arrogant pricks.”

“True,” Celia chuckled. “But none of them lasted.”

“Maybe they were no match for me,” Natasha joked.

“You know, I can see that. You were formidable and successful. That could threaten even the most confident man.”

“That was a problem for some of them,” Natasha agreed. “Although a few were just too desperate for a lifelong commitment. Which is all but a delusion in Hollywood.”

“Yes, why is it that we women are seen as clingy when so many men are so eager to lock it down?”

“I have no idea,” Natasha replied.

“It has to be difficult navigating a relationship in front of the whole world.”

“The press is incredibly annoying. They feel entitled to everyone’s most private details.” Natasha raised an eyebrow. “No offense, of course.”

“Of course,” Celia said. “I tend to agree.”

“And yet you certainly seem to be adept at convincing corrupt CEOs to spill their secrets.”

Celia shrugged. “In my mind, there is a difference between exposing a criminal or cad and hiding in the bushes outside a celebrity’s home.”

“The paparazzi don’t think so,” Natasha’s voice sounded tense, and Celia saw her fingers press into the table.

“I have to say, you were much more successful than most at keeping them at bay.”

“It was certainly difficult. They are like roaches. Stomp one, and three more skitter out from the dark.”

“Sounds like you have some personal experience, despite your best effort.”

Natasha sat back and studied Celia in silence. “I’m definitely going to need a cigarette to tell this story.”

Laughing, Celia pulled one from the package and lit it with a match. She handed it to Natasha, who smoked it quietly. Celia sat back and waited. Natasha would begin talking when she was ready. As she waited, Celia thought about how Natasha’s slow control would drive John up the wall. It would drive several of her colleagues up the wall. Patience had usually worked well for Celia, however.

“One of the things any public person has to learn to deal with is the less than professional so-called reporters,” Natasha said. “Don’t misunderstand me. Nothing is stopping a journalist from the Times from being a pain in the ass in their way. I’m sure your recent CEO subject would agree.”

“Good point,” Celia said. “I’m sure you’re right.”

“I am. But those small parasites who wait for a glimpse of your undies or a temper or for you to appear just a little too drunk,” Natasha flicked ash at an imaginary example. “They