Chapter 4: A Challenge

Why did I have the feeling that my new boss had just played me?

"Snagging an interview with Luca Fontaine would be a feat, considering his general attitude toward interviews," he said, walking over to the table and leaning against the chair next to mine. "How exactly do you plan to do it? I'm assuming he hasn't already consented?"

God, I hadn't realized how tall he was until he was towering over me. Between that and those eyes, my voice wanted to die in my throat. Besides - this was where my plan got sticky. But Roman Everet was asking me questions, which meant he was at least entertaining the idea of letting me try. I just needed to give him a reasonable answer and then I could work on the real plan later.

Unfortunately, no answer - reasonable or otherwise - was popping into my brain. It was hard enough to get Emilia to agree to an interview with me, as unimportant as I am, and as Mr. Everet so kindly pointed out, she was usually eager to talk to the press. But as the silence stretched on and I saw the amusement in Roman's eyes start to fade, I knew I was losing him. I needed to say something - anything - to keep his attention.

"He has a weakness for dark-haired women," I blurted.

He sat up slightly. "Excuse me?"

"Luca Fontaine. He has a weakness for dark-haired women," I said quickly. "Emilia said so in her interview."

My answer must have intrigued him, because he was leaning slightly toward me. "And how does that matter?"

"I - well, I'm a dark-haired woman," I said. Though admittedly, having to point that out to him didn't say much for the potential effectiveness of my plan.

Nor did the way Mr. Everet immediately burst into laughter.

My cheeks went hot, and I considered bolting from the room. But something kept me glued to my chair. After a moment, he calmed himself again, but now humor pervaded his entire person.

"So you're planning to seduce him into an interview, then?" he said.

When he said it out loud like that, it sounded ridiculous. But I was still here, still holding onto my job by a thread, and I wasn't about to let go.

"Why not?" I said. "Women can seduce men into doing all sorts of things. And it's not like I'm trying to get him to give up national security secrets or something." The more I spoke, though, the more I realized exactly how absurd all of this sounded. As I mentioned before, I'm not a troll, but I'm also not exactly movie-star gorgeous, either. I like my smile. And sometimes people will compliment me on my thick hair (a gift from my Greek heritage on my mom's side). I'm that girl who glides through life without most people noticing her one way or the other. I don't get catcalled walking down the street - especially not here in good ol' L.A., where I don't exactly fit the "look" - but it's not like I have people making snide comments about my appearance behind my back. I'm just... average. Just me.

Which was fine, at least until I told Roman Everet that I was going to seduce one of Hollywood's hottest bad boys.

The CEO looked like he was on the verge of laughing again. But he hadn't sent me from the room yet, and I took that as a good sign. Instead, he was now looking me up and down. His gaze moved slowly across my body - from the top of my head, to my breasts, then down my legs to where my feet were tucked beneath my chair - and I suddenly wished I'd chosen something a little more flattering to wear to work that day. Things were usually pretty casual around the Celebrity Spark offices, so most of the time I just threw my hair up in a ponytail and tossed on a button-down shirt and black pants. Not exactly the "honeypot" look. His expression revealed nothing about his opinion of what he saw.

"It's an... admirable plan," he said finally. His eyes met mine again, and I felt my flush deepen. It was one thing to meet his gaze when I thought he was just firing me. It was another after he'd just evaluated whether or not I was attractive enough to seduce Luca Fontaine. Someone with Roman Everet's looks and money certainly has his pick of women - and he's not even a famous actor. I knew I probably didn't even live up to his standards, let alone Luca's.

"Let's say you do have the... ability to convince Luca to give you a private interview," he continued. "How exactly do you intend to get close enough to do so in the first place? The Cataclysm: Earth set is closed to the press. And most members of the Fontaine family are quite adept at avoiding reporters when it suits them to do so."

The fact that he hadn't completely thrown out the idea shocked me. But now I suddenly had another impossible question to answer. My mind fumbled for a response.

And then it hit me.

"The Hollywood Saves! event next weekend," I said. "Many of the Fontaines show up every year." There would be a red carpet before the event, and my Celebrity Spark press badge could get me in. It wasn't an event someone in my position would normally attend - celebrities rarely haul out the drama and scandals at charity functions - but it would give me a good chance to get close to Luca Fontaine. I was pretty proud of myself for remembering it.

He seemed impressed by my answer as well.

"I can see you've thought this through," he said.

We both knew I hadn't, but I'd made my case. Either Roman Everet bought it or he didn't.

And for a long moment, he said nothing. He continued to look down at me, and I fixed my eyes on the bridge of his nose, trying to appear confident without actually meeting his unsettling gaze - or without getting distracted by that sexy little non-dimple on his chin. I needed to be steady, firm. He needed to see that I was serious about this.

"I'll tell you what," he said finally. "I like your creativity, so I'm willing to give you a shot."

I couldn't believe it. My desperate plea had worked. "You are?"

"It's a probationary period, of course," he continued. "I have a strict budget to adhere to, and I can't just keep an employee on a whim. You have until the day of the event, no longer. If you fail, you'll need to start looking for new employment. If you succeed, you can stay, though your longterm fate here will be left to the discretion of the new Editor-in-Chief. I should have one in place by then."

I nodded, still in disbelief that he was letting me go through with this. "I understand."

"I'll even give you a little freedom," he said. "Secure an interview for Celebrity Spark with any of the Fontaines and I'll say you've proved yourself good enough to stay. Does that sound fair?"

I continued to bob my head. "Yes. Yes, that's fair." And then, "Any of the Fontaines?"

"I know you're smarter than that. I mean the Fontaines of a certain..." - he waved his hand - "level, shall we say. A-list only. Second cousins and uncles and all that don't count." His eyes fixed on me. "If the average person on the street couldn't tell you which one it is, then you're on the wrong track."

"Okay."

"Good. Then that's settled." He indicated the door. "We're done."

I wasn't about to wait around to see if he changed his mind. I got up, thrilled beyond belief that I'd somehow miraculously been able to keep my job, and tried to ignore the way my skin prickled at the feeling of his gaze on my back.

It wasn't until about ten minutes later, when the glorious shine of my victory wore off, that I realized the Hollywood Saves! event was a mere ten days away. And that I was insanely, ridiculously, royally screwed.