SASSY IN STILETTOS ARe version by Nana Malone Page B

a
clear path to Editor in Chief.”
    Miranda crossed her arms. “You’re after my job?”
    Micha shrugged. “Eventually. As my boss, you should
be aiming to replace yourself. Eventually, when you’re ready, I’ll be that
replacement. Those are my terms.”
    Miranda crossed her arms. “You don’t ask for much,
do you?”
    Micha raised a brow. “Not at all. Now about that
intern?”
    Miranda smirked. “Try them out, see how you like
them. I promise you, the younger they are, the faster they learn new techniques
to glean information you need. Any questions?”
    She wasn’t going to argue that small thing. She
had excellent research skills herself. If push came to shove, she could do the
background follow up. Had she really tossed herself into the fray? This was a
good thing, right? Moving on with her life. “Only one. Who’s the subject?”
    Miranda’s eyes twinkled. “You’re going to love
this. None other than Simon Jax. Apparently one of the producers used to date
him, and they’re still on friendly terms. I just can’t believe....”
    Pain sliced through her heart. After all these
years, his name alone had the power to sting. As Miranda prattled on, Micha’s
stomach rolled. She tried to convince herself that this was a different Jax,
that she hadn’t agreed to interview and play cozy with the one man who had
destroyed her heart. Miranda kept saying words like “...groundbreaking...” and “innovative”
and “...personal...” But Micha couldn’t hear her over the roar in her skull. Shit . She had to get out of this. Screw Caleb and his
moving forward. Micha’s head swam, and her heart went full Kentucky Derby
status. If she wasn’t careful, she’d pass out. She had to get herself under
control.
    Again, she focused on Caleb and his voice, using
him to steady herself.
    It took her a second to realize Miranda had
stopped talking.
    “Micha, are you all right? You look ashen. Do you
need some water?” Miranda stood, reaching for the glass carafe behind her on
the tray by the window.
    She had to get out of here. Like now. She’d worry
about coming off as totally cray-cray later. If she could get to her office,
she could panic in peace. “Y-yeah, I’m fine. I’m running through interview
questions. You know me. Always working the angles. I’ll go look over the file
you sent.”
    Once she left Miranda’s office, she wobbled on her
borrowed Louboutins. She’d had the shoes for a day now, and so far, they were
not the good luck charm the girls purported.
    Making steadier progress back to her office, she
paused at Ryan’s desk to grab her mail. He stood when she came over.
    “I don’t know what you did right, but can I have
some of that karma? There was another flower box delivered for you.”
    Micha blinked and frowned at him, trying to make
sense of his words. “Was there a card this time?”
    “Don’t know.” He shrugged and presented her with a
ribboned box. “These are wrapped.”
    Caleb insisted he hadn’t been sending her flowers,
so if not him, then who? “Yeah, thanks.” She dragged herself into her office,
dropped into her chair, and leaned her head against her desk. “God, how did
things get so colossally fucked up?”
    As there was no answer, she dropped the shoes by
her desk and shoved the mail aside. Most of it was junk anyway. She focused on
the box. Carefully, she untied the ribbon and pried open the cover.  The
fragrant scent of roses immediately filled the room. The color of the roses
were near black, and she frowned. She sniffed again. There was something else
too, like something too sickly sweet, like something over-ripened. The dark
blooms looked like death against the satin, white interior, and as she reached
for a stem, she had trouble dislodging it. She jostled the stems around to
release them from their tie. Then she saw it.
    A scream bubbled out of her throat before her
conscious mind could even think to recall it.
    Ryan came running in. “Micha, what is