Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
“And you find that intimidating?” Sara asks me.
“No, not at all. I guess I find it a little ridiculous. I’m the opposite of Kit. Low profile. I keep my head down and do my work, which is never about me. And that’s how I like it.”
Sara nods. “Well, then you don’t want to date my brother. Attention comes with the territory.”
“What are you most proud of about Kit?” I ask her, returning my attention to my notes.
“Who he is,” she answers immediately. “Kit is generous and thoughtful. Please don’t put this in your story, but he paid my law school tuition. Since I didn’t have to take out loans, I don’t have to go into corporate law and grind out eighty-hour weeks to pay them back. He’s one of those people who always, every single time I see him, leaves me feeling happy.”
What a rare and beautiful thing that is. I want to say it, but I keep that thought to myself. I’ve already left Sara thinking I want to date her brother, which isn’t the tone any good reporter is supposed to set in an interview.
After a little more back and forth, I pay the check and file away the receipt, then tell Sara I have to leave for my next appointment.
“You’ve got my number,” she says. “Call me if you ever want to hang out. I’m looking forward to reading the story.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate you taking the time for this interview. It was helpful.”
She gives me a sly grin. “Helpful for your story or helpful for you realizing you want to date my brother?”
I try not to smile, but it’s impossible.
“Good luck with that exam,” I say, putting on my hat before I have to battle the winter weather outside.
“Thanks. I feel like we’ll be seeing each other again soon,” Sara says, getting up and putting her coat on, too.
“I’d love to hang out sometime.”
“Yeah, or we could just see each other when Kit brings you over to meet Mom and Dad? Not that he comes home much. Maybe you and I could just set up dinner for the three of us now?”
“I’m leaving now,” I say, laughing. “Bye, Sara.”
“Bye.”
On my walk from the coffee shop back to the newsroom, I think about how I’m going to approach this story when it’s time to start writing. Do I have enough material?
Maybe. But it won’t hurt to keep gathering more. I still haven’t found a fresh angle for the story, and that’s what I need for it to stand out.
I also won’t mind spending a little more time with Kit. Even though I’ll never be one of his Kittens, I can admit to myself that Sara is right—I like him.
Chapter Eight
Kit
* * *
I glare at Easy, who just poked me in the shoulder.
“Buckle up,” he says shortly, pointing at the flight attendant looking down at us from the aisle. “She’s been trying to tell you.”
“Oh.” I fasten my seatbelt and apologize to the flight attendant, then look down at my phone screen again.
I’m reading Molly’s stories through the Chicago Gazette online app. I googled her when I took my seat on the plane, and somehow the flight’s ending and I’m still reading about her.
Her stories may not be about her, but they give me some insight into how she works. I already mined all the information available about her on the web.
So far, I’ve figured out she’s twenty-nine and got divorced a year and a half ago after a short marriage to a guy named Zach Parr, who looks like an absolute douchebag based on his Facebook profile. That must mean she took her maiden name back after the divorce.
There were a few paragraphs about her in a blog post when she was hired at the Gazette. She listed her interests as reading, reading and reading—everything from biographies to romance novels. I pictured her in bed, her hair pulled up and her lower lip trapped between her teeth as she read a sexy scene in a book.
It was hot. Really hot. And I also find it hot how smart she is. Molly breaks down everything from tax laws to city contracts in her stories, and she does it fluidly. It’s intriguing that the woman who says she’s not good in social situations is so eloquent at explaining things in writing.
I texted Sara about their interview, and her response hits my phone as the plane begins its descent.
Sara: It was good. Just standard questions. I told her your inspiring story of overcoming micropeen.
Me: Not funny, I’m serious. Were any of the questions weird? Probing?
Sara: Relax. It was fine. Nothing weird. Except she definitely likes you.
Me: You think so?
Sara: Yeah. And I hope you like her, too, because she’s great. We’re going to hang out sometime.
Me: You and Molly?
Sara: No, me and the Pope, dumbass. Yes, me and Molly.