TWIN PASSIONS: (A Logan Brothers Novel) (14 page)

His voice blurred away inside my
head. I couldn't listen to this shit. I shouldn't have come down
here. It was the perfect representation of his superiority over me,
physically running rings around me like this. It wasn't where I
wanted to be right now.

With his words still shooting
through my head I stepped through the ropes and out of the ring.

“
You need a break?” I could
hear him ask.

“
Toilets are in the back,”
said coach as I stepped down from the ring.

But I wasn't listening to them.
I kept walking back towards the entrance, ripping the gloves and
headwear off and throwing them to the floor as I went.

I could hear Cade calling after
me as I went. “Zack, where are you going? What are you doing Zack,
you were doing well...”

I didn't listen. I didn't turn
around. I just walked straight out into the morning sunshine, climbed
into my car, and drove off. 

Present Day

Gemma

When I was called in to see Mrs
Banks a week before Cade's fight I had pretty much given up hope that
I'd be able to give her what she wanted. I knew, then, that the
promotion I had so longed for would now be nothing more than a pipe
dream.

With a consoling word of 'good
luck' from Annie I left my desk and approached her office, getting
the nod from Brenda, her secretary, to go straight in.

I steeled my nerves as I turned
the handle to the door and walked in, away from the chatter of the
office behind me, and into the quiet of the lions den.

Mrs Banks sat, as always, behind
her desk, her eyes refusing to meet me for a good few moments. She
did that every single time she called me to her office, a clear show
that her time was far more important than mine.

Eventually she pulled her head
up from whatever she was doing on her computer and looked me dead in
the eye, a sinister smile creeping across her face.

“
Please do take a seat Gemma,”
she said, nodding at the empty chair on the other side of her desk.

I sat and waited for the
inevitable.

“
So, how are you coming along
with our story about young Mr Logan? Have you found the sort of thing
I'm looking for?”

I was prepared for the worst
now, so didn't waste time trying to sugar coat things.

“
I'm afraid not. I've tried,
Mrs Banks, I really have, but I can't find anything interesting about
Cade that you'd want to print.”

Her face went from amenable to
displeased in an instant, her facade dropping.

“
Well that's a real shame
Gemma, it really is. Tell me, what have you done to try to find your
story?”

I hesitated before telling her.
Frankly I was ashamed of what I'd done.

“
I looked around his apartment
when he wasn't there. There was nothing.”

“
You looked around his
apartment?" She sounded unimpressed. "Anything else?”

“
Umm, well no. I mean, I don't
know what else I can do to be honest.”

She sat back in her chair, a
look of total dissatisfaction spreading across her face. “Well this
is disappointing.” I could see her mind ticking over deviously.

“
Well, I suppose if you've
tried, you've tried. I honestly thought that Mr Logan would have a
few secrets you might unveil for me. But, if he's clean, he's clean.”
Her voice was turning lighter, more breezy. It was unusual for her.

“
So I guess I won't get that
promotion then,” I asked tentatively, already knowing what she'd
say.

“
Well I'm afraid that's
unlikely Gemma. Tara has pitched me an excellent story that I think
our readers will love. It's the sort of thing I was hoping you could
deliver – scandal, drama, betrayal. If it works out the way she's
hoping it will, I'm afraid the job will be hers.”

I nodded. “And my current
job?” I said, still sheepish.

She went silent for a second and
turned away from me, looking out of the window. I couldn't tell
whether she was actually thinking about it or whether she was just
dragging it out to be cruel. And I didn't really know why I cared so
much.

Without that promotion I wasn't
sure whether I wanted to be in the job anyway, it was boring the life
out of me. And knowing Mrs Banks as I now did, knowing the sort of
person she was, I wasn't sure my career would be best served by
staying with
Us and Them
.

The thought gave me some
confidence, took the pressure off her decision.
Go ahead and fire
me then, see if I care. I'll be just fine, I'll find a good job
somewhere else
.
I graduated from a good college, I'm smart,
I'm ambitious. Yeah, do your worst Banks, because I don't give a shit
anymore.

She turned back to me and my
expression had changed, hardened from the soft, needy look I must
have walked into the room wearing.

“
You are good at what you do
Gemma,” she eventually conceded in a rare moment of praise, “so
it would be a shame to lose you entirely. I really don't know if you
have what it takes to go that extra mile, though, to really dig deep
for that great story. I fear you'll always just be adding filler to
magazines and papers unless you change your outlook on all of this.”

A part of me appreciated the
criticism. After all, I wanted to know where my weaknesses lay so
that I could work on them. Constructive criticism was always a
positive thing when taken in the right light.

And yet another part of me
wanted to slap the bitch right across the face. Yeah, I got that you
had to be willing to dig for a story. Yeah, I understood that you
needed to be ruthless sometimes in your hunt for the truth. But what
the stupid fucking cow didn't seem to acknowledge was the fact that
this was my fucking boyfriend, and that, yes, I had sneaked into his
apartment without him knowing to try to do her bidding.

It was a mistake I'd never make
again. There was a moral line that I wouldn't cross. She was making
it seem as though every damn journalist in the world was a
backstabbing, morally devoid cretin, willing to screw anyone over to
get a good story and further their career. Just because she fit that
profile didn't mean everyone else did.

I stared at her for a while
before thanking her for the second chance and walking back to my
desk. I was, obviously, sarcastic when I thanked her, just to make
sure she knew how ungrateful I actually was.

I could feel my blood boiling at
her insufferable arrogance as I sat back at my desk, the dripping
rainforest screensaver on my computer doing nothing to settle me
down.

“
You just don't have what it
takes,” I muttered under my breath. “What a bitch.”

I could be ruthless when I
wanted to be. Hell, if some story came up about her I'd gladly tell
it.

I bet she's got a million
skeletons gathering dust in her closet. She was so adamant that Cade,
and everyone for that matter, had secrets they wouldn't want people
to know about. Anyone who thinks like that must surely have their
own.

How I'd love to find some dirt
on her and watch her squirm. I could use it as collateral to get me
the job or maybe give it to another magazine so that they could print
it about her. I could laugh as I watch her reputation fall into ruin
and her career crumble around her.

I must have been smiling
deviously, as Annie picked up on the look on my face straight away,
appearing suddenly in front of me over the divider between our desks.

“
Hey babe, how'd it go with
Banks? And...why are you smiling like that?!”

I was broken out of my little
daydream – one where I was laughing maniacally as I looked down on
the front page news of Martha Banks being carted from the building in
shame – by Annie's voice.

“
Oh, nothing, just thinking
about something.”

“
What...?” she asked, her
voice sceptical.

“
Oh, just the idea of Banks'
career burning to the ground.”

“
Ah. So it went badly then?”
She sounded disappointed, but not wholly surprised. “It's OK, we'll
find you a new job.”

“
No, she said I could keep the
job.”

“
What! Well that's great news
isn't it?” she exclaimed.

I wasn't so convinced. I was
only sticking around to see if I could get promoted. No chance of
that now.

“
Not really. She's gonna give
the promotion to that snake Tara Bradley. I mean, at least if it was
someone I liked I could be OK with it, but her! It just stinks. I
think I'm going to quit anyway. I can't work with Banks anymore, not
now that I know what sort of person she is.”

Annie was nodding quietly,
letting me vent.

“
She's got it coming to her,
you know. Someone's gonna play her at her own game one day, print
some scandal about her instead of the other way around. Now that's a
job I'd go after with relish!”

“
Yeah, well I'd put that out
of your mind if I were you Gem. It's a waste of time thinking like
that.”

I nodded grumpily. “You're
probably right. Always the voice of reason.”

“
Look, you're so early in your
career. It'll happen for you, if not here, then somewhere else. I
mean, come on babe, you haven't been here long. Just keep working and
things will happen naturally. Don't push it, OK?”

I nodded my agreement.

“
You promise you'll drop it?”

“
Sure,” I lied, “I
promise.”

Present Day

Gemma

I must have been mad. What I was
about to do could get me into serious trouble. And I'm not talking
'get fired' trouble, I'm talking real trouble, police trouble.

But only if I got caught. And
that wasn't going to happen.

I walked confidently into the
building, my bag slung over my shoulder. There was a single security
guy at the door to whom I flashed my I.D. before continuing on
through towards the lifts.

I stepped inside and pressed the
button for the 4
^th
floor. I'd been here once on a Sunday
morning before, and it was like a ghost-office, no one around. I
hoped to God that today would be the same.

The lift pinged and opened and I
was greeted with a sight that brought a smile to my face. There was
no one at the main reception desk in front of me.

I walked straight on past the
desk and down towards the two double glass doors that led onto the
main office floor. I knew there were cameras downstairs and that I'd
have been clocked coming into the building. But once inside, there
were none. What I was about to do, therefore, wasn't going to be
recorded.

I continued through the double
doors, my outer confidence belying how I was feeling inside. Inside,
my heart was racing, my mouth dry, my mind running at 100 miles an hour.

I glanced quickly round the
office as I entered and saw no movement. We'd only just gone to print
with the latest magazine at the end of the previous week, so I doubt
anyone had any urgent work to get done. If it was two or three weeks
later, they'd be people here, their deadlines forcing them to work on
a Sunday. Today, thankfully, the place was silent.

I walked towards my desk and sat
for a few moments, gathering my thoughts and scouting the place out.
I waited to see if anyone would come, if anyone was already there,
but the office stayed as it was: eerily quiet.

After several minutes I'd
gathered my nerves sufficiently to stand and start moving off away
from my desk, and down the corridor to the office I'd visited on so
many occasions over the last couple of weeks.

I held my breath as I walked
forward, straining my eyes to see if anyone was inside. I could make
out the shape of her desk in the corner of the room but no one was
behind it. I kept on going, my breathing now growing faster and
faster, until I reached the door. I looked through the glass to see
an empty space. She wasn't inside.

Now was the moment of truth. I
reached for the door handle and turned it, praying for it to be
unlocked. Or was I praying for the opposite? I couldn't quite tell
anymore. Part of me wanted the door to be locked so I could just turn
around and forget I'd ever been there. The other part wanted to keep
on going, keep digging as she'd so often told me to do.

“
You've got to be ruthless,
Gemma, if you want to succeed in this business.”
Was this
ruthless enough for you Mrs Banks?

I turned the handle and heard
the door click and glide open.
Fuck it, there was no going back
now.

Slowly I walked in, carefully
shutting the door behind me. I looked at the computer sitting
lifeless on her desk. I'd never get into it, not without the
password. I'd had enough trouble breaking Cade's code, so there was
no way I'd be able to work out what Martha Banks' secret word might
be. Probably
kitten-killer101
or something like that.