Exposed (Tropical Nights)

Exposed

Emma Barron

Exposed: © Copyright 2013 by Emma Barron

All Rights Reserved

C
hapter One

              “You’re late. Karen’s looking for you.”

Rachel
dumped her coat and bag on her desk and looked up to see her coworker, Allison, peering over her cubicle. “Of course,” Rachel said with a groan. Of course, on the one morning she was late, her boss would be looking for her first thing. “What’s her mood?”

“Oh, the usual. She’s manically bouncing off the walls while trying to distract herself from nicotine withdrawals. She’s got some big story idea she wants
us in on. You know, gossip never sleeps so neither can the magazine, and all that.” Allison brushed her hair from her eyes and squinted at Rachel. “The subway break down or something? It’s not like you to be late and so…messy.”

Rachel looked down and realized
the shirt she had thrown on that morning was wrinkled and only half tucked in. “It wasn’t the subway, it was my family,” she said as she tried to quickly pull herself together. She tucked her shirt in, tied her shoe, fixed the hem of her pants where it had been caught in her sock, and straightened her belt. She ran a hand over her hair but she knew it was a useless gesture. There was nothing she could do to make her energetic curls look neat and tidy.

“
Right. I can’t believe you let your father and brother move into your one bedroom apartment. New York apartments aren’t big enough for one person, let alone three. No wonder you couldn’t get ready this morning, with everyone sharing a bathroom.”

“
It’s just temporary, until Jamie gets a job and they find a place. He had an interview this morning, in fact, which is why I’m late. My bathroom was definitely not made for two people trying to get ready at the same time.”

“Well, let’s not be any later,” Allison jerked her head toward Karen’s office.

“Right,” Rachel said as she followed Allison down the hall. She grimaced as she watched Allison walk. The woman was, as usual, impeccably dressed, perfectly accessorized, and everything about her looked effortlessly chic. Next to Allison, Rachel felt more than her usual share of self-consciousness.

Allison knocked on Karen’s door. There was no response at first, just the sounds of heavy exhalation and the growling of two
angry-sounding cats. Then Karen said, “Come in,” in a strangled voice.

Rachel and Allison shared a look, wondering what sort of scene was awaiting them in their boss’s office this time.
They entered to find Karen standing in the middle of her large, cluttered office, her hands planted on the floor in front of her, one leg sticking straight up in the air. She was wearing athletic pants and a tight-fitting lycra shirt.

“Have a seat,” Karen said, “I’m almost finished.”

They walked around their boss, taking care not to get kicked by her wobbling leg, and sat in the two chairs by Karen’s desk.

“Ah, there. Done.
” Karen stood upright and straightened her clothes. She was fit and trim, with a body that would be killer for a twenty-year-old, forget about the fifty-year-old she actually was. “Are you two doing yoga? You need to be, if not. I’m so focused, and it does so much for the body. I only started this week and I feel my chakras getting stronger already, my aura pulsing brightly.” Karen grabbed her water bottle, downed a few gulps, and then went to sit behind her desk. “Not to mention what it’s doing for my legs.” For demonstration, she kicked a leg in the air, over her head, flexing her long, lean muscles. “It’s amazing.”

Allison and Rachel nodded awkwardly.

Karen dabbed at her neck with a towel and smoothed her glossy black hair she had pulled back in a tight ponytail. After more primping and rehydrating, Karen finally seemed ready to get down to business. “Rachel, why were you late? It’s not like you.” Karen bent down as she spoke, her head disappearing behind her desk while she rummaged through the drawers. Rachel drew in a breath to respond to her question, but Karen preempted her by saying, “Where did I put the…oh, here it is.” Her head popped back up. She unwrapped a nicotine patch and slapped in on her upper arm, and then began searching through the piles of things on her desk. “Aha,” she said, pulling an electronic cigarette from under a pile of papers. She took a few puffs, closing her eyes as if savoring the moment. “My stars, I feel so much better since I’ve quit smoking.”

Allison looked a
t Rachel and rolled her eyes. They were well used to Karen’s eccentricity, but they still managed to be amused by whatever health kick or new age philosophy or esoteric hobby their boss became obsessed with. Karen’s current passions were yoga, deluding herself that she had quit smoking, and following something she was convinced was authentic Far Eastern philosophy but was really the barely coherent ramblings of her current boyfriend, Bob.

“Now, what can I do for you?” Karen looked from Allison to Rachel expectantly.

“Um, you wanted to see us.” Rachel said.

“Oh, right, right.” Karen’s head disappeared behind her desk again and Rachel heard drawers opening and papers being shuffled. She popped back up right as her two cats,
Tao and Reiki, jumped from the nearby bookshelf to land in the middle of her desk. They were locked in some epic feline battle, yowling and scratching at each other, rolling around and knocking papers and knick-knacks to the floor. “Stop it!” Karen scolded as she separated them. “God, why do I even bother bringing you two into the office if you’re just going to fight?” She shooed them off the desk and the two cats disappeared behind the couch, still hissing at each other. “Now, where was I? Oh, right. Leo.”

Allison looked at Rachel, eyebrows raised in question, but Rachel just shrugged. She had no idea
who or what Karen was talking about.

“William August Leonid Hanlon III.” Karen handed
them each a folder. Rachel looked at hers and saw it contained several pages printed off a website for a company called Hanlon Enterprises, LLC. “Leo for short,” Karen continued. “Scion to a luxury aircraft manufacturing company. He took over the family business after the death of his parents two years ago, when the company was floundering to the point of collapse. Not only has Leo turned it around, he recently expanded the company by creating some online program that allows people to charter private jets. Look at the picture on his bio,” Karen gestured to the papers she had handed them. “He’s 35, drop-dead gorgeous, a tech genius, and stinking rich. And you know what that means.”

Rachel and Allison nodded. “He’s the hot new fodder for the New York City gossip mill,” Rachel said.

“Exactly,” Karen said. She drummed one hand on her desk and puffed on her electronic cigarette. Rachel knew that at least one of her legs was bouncing under her desk. “He’s been seen out at a few hotspots and events in the last two years, just enough to whet the appetite for gossip about him. Everyone in the city is dying for details, but no one knows anything about him. He’s notoriously private. No one knows his history, who he’s dating, what he does for fun. The city’s gossips are crying for more. They want to know it all, and who’s going to give it them?” Karen looked at them expectantly.

“
New York Exposed
magazine,” Rachel murmured, giving the rote response. She knew how Karen’s workplace cheering sessions went.

“That’s right,
New York Exposed
magazine. Leo Hanlon is the impossible get, the holy grail of gossip, the sasquatch of New York celebrities, the—Tao, stop it! Leave Reiki alone!” Karen picked up a spray bottle and squirted water in the general direction of the two cats as they tore across her office. She watched them scamper off and then turned her attention back to her employees. “What was I saying?”

“Gossip holy grail,” Allison supplied helpfully.

“Yes, right. We’re going to get the exclusive story on Leo Hanlon.”

“But how?
” Allison asked. “Most of the celebrities we cover
want
to be in the gossip rags, however much they pretend to be outraged by the invasion of privacy. In fact, they’re usually the ones who call
us
to stage the ‘candid’ photos and plant the ‘shocking’ gossip. How are we going to get anything on this guy if he doesn’t cooperate?”

“Well, first, because this is
New York Exposed
, and we are the best at what we do. When I started this company twenty years ago,” Karen gestured to the wall where the covers of her first issues were framed, “I did everything the old-fashioned way. There was no World Wide Web or tweeter or twerter or webbook or facegrams or whatever the kids are using these days. There wasn’t a phone camera in every pocket and instant access to every story. I did it using leg work and investigative know-how.”

Allison cast a side
long glance at Rachel. They’d both heard this speech a thousand times, and they knew Karen could go on forever once she got started.

“And second?” Allison said, smoothly interrupting Karen’s train of thought without appearing to do so.

“And second, we have a secret weapon.”

“Which is?”

“Rachel,” Karen pronounced, and both Allison and Karen turned to stare at her.

Rachel felt a blush spreading
over her cheeks. She had to consciously restrain herself from sinking down into her chair. “Me? In what universe am I a secret weapon? What do you expect me to do?”

“Look, we al
l know your credentials.” Karen puffed her cigarette. “BS in Economics from Cornell. Columbia Journalism School. Three years at
Economy Today
, where we all know you’d still be working if the ‘economy today’ were anything other than crap. I know you’re only slumming it here because you were laid off from a real magazine and journalism jobs have all but dried up.”

Rachel felt her cheeks go even redder and she shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not
—”

Karen cut her off with a wave of her hand, her cigarette bobbing and a tangle of gold bracelets jangling on her arm. “Don’t worry, I’m okay with the situation. I know
I only have you until something better comes along. But from the first second you walked into this office for an interview, I read in your chakras that you’d be good for this magazine. It’s why I hired you. And while you’re here, I’m going to use you. This is the perfect opportunity to put your background to work.”

“What do you want me to do, exactly?
I don’t see how I can gain access to Mr. Hanlon.”

Karen leaned back in her chair and smiled, her self-satisfied exp
ression somewhat spoiled when Tao jumped in her newly exposed lap. “Oof,” she said, shifting the cat. She looked at Rachel, her smile back in place. “I’ve already set it up. I explained your credentials and how you’re interested in doing a profile of his company.”
              “And he agreed, just like that?” Rachel asked.

Karen shrugged. “Seems that the company heads
—Leo’s parents—dying in a crash involving a company-made jet is bad for PR. Apparently, the crash was due to pilot error, not any fault of the plane, but it still hit his company’s reputation hard. Leo’s been forced to be more visible lately, trying to rehab the company image. He’s managed to put the business back in the black since taking over, but the company’s reputation is still suffering. He was actually rather eager to have this chance at good publicity.”

Rachel raised an eyebrow. “
Really? He thinks a write up in
New York Exposed
will be good for his company’s image?” It wasn’t until the words were out that she realized she probably shouldn’t sound so disdainful when talking to her boss about her magazine. Still, it was true. The magazine printed quick sound bites of salacious gossip, punctuated with an excessive amount of exclamation points. She couldn’t see a serious businessman eager to appear in a magazine full of Baby Drama!! and Drug Relapse!! and Her Private Hell in Cults and Sex Clubs!!! headlines.

Allison laughed softly in agreement with
Rachel’s skepticism, earning her a frown from Karen.

“Well, I may have led him to believe the story would be rather more focused on the
business aspect of things.” Karen stroked Tao and the cat began to purr loudly. “Look,” she continued when Rachel was about to protest, “he’s agreed to let you shadow him at his company for a few days so you can get all the information you need on Leo and his company. You have the background for this. You two can wax poetic about charts and money sheets and your Ivy League days. Get him talking about all that, and then get him talking about the sexy stuff: his love life, his hobbies, where he takes his exotic vacations, who’s suing him for what paternity tests. You know what our readers want.”

“I just can’t see him talking about those sort of things
—”

“Do whatever you have to. Dazzle him with your education. Blind him with your feminine
…” Karen paused as she gave Rachel a rather unflattering once-over, “…whatever.”

Rachel
tried to stop herself from visibly cringing. She brought a hand up to smooth her hair before she realized what she was doing and dropped it quickly to her lap. She didn’t possess any wiles, feminine or otherwise, and she never felt it as keenly as when she was in the presence of women like Allison or Karen. They were the type of women who could breezily chat up a man—flirting and laughing and touching just so—until a man gave up all his secrets. Rachel was the type of woman to blush and stammer nervously until the man became convinced she wasn’t quite all there and moved on.