Chapter Two

IRENA

"THAT’S why they're here," Peter said, breaking the trance that Sage Kennedy had forced on him. Irena turned around and focused her attention on what her editor was saying.

"They must do it. . . damage control, "he continued.

"Against what?" Irena asked, glancing at Amanda and then at Sage.

What scandalous information may the press have about Sage that the press has not covered?

Sage stirred and started pacing the room.

Amanda cleared her throat.

"There is information should be announcing tomorrow. These are part of the practices in which Sage's late father trained." She turned to look at Irene.

"Practices? Like, illegal things?" Irena's voice softened as she watched Amanda.

Amanda's expression hardened as she nodded.

Glancing at Sage, Irena saw a flat look in his eyes. Her heart rate slowed down. She feels sorry for him.

"What does this have to do with Greenland?"

Amanda tapped her pen on the planner in front of her.

"We will hold a press conference tomorrow morning. You will not blame me if I do not give you the details right away. In general, you will come to draft articles about what you see. Paint Kennedy Outdoors in a Positive Light. Hopefully, we can help combat the negative reaction this information will inevitably elicit."

Irena stepped back. A fragile peace? Is that why Peter called her here to write? She looked at him, but the bright smile he put on her lips did not waver. He knew it was underneath her. Why did he ask her to write it?

"You think I would be best to include this?" she asked.

Peter squinted at her, and then his nerd expression returned.

"Yes. Of course, you are the best in this story.

Irena felt like she was going to get sick. Is that all Peter saw in her? One of the girls he hired to start writing that tasteless magazine has already started printing.

And there, she thought she was making progress. She gritted her teeth. Why did she allow herself to hope that he would give her a break? Oh, that is right. She deserves it.

The phone rang beside her. Amanda brought it to her cheek.

"Good morning?" she said get up.

A second later, she covered the phone with her hand.

"I should take this call to the hallway." Holding the diary to her chest, she slipped through the door.

"I'll use the bathroom," said Sage, following her.

As soon as the room was empty, Irena focused on Peter. Her gaze shifted from her face to the window.

"What? Say it," he said with a sigh.

"Seriously? Should I make the ugly billionaire look good?” She got up and started pacing back and forth.

"They are making a large donation to the magazine in exchange for this story. I am hustling other articles so I can post it next week."

Irena's muscles tensed. Does that mean he is falsifying his story about trash that mysteriously dumped into the sea? She narrowed her eyes.

"Come on, Peter. We are not that kind of magazine. We print remarkable stories. It is not right to help people cover up the terrible things they have done."

He avoided her gaze as he arranged the stack of papers on the table.

"That's what has to happen if we want to continue operating so we can deliver the stories that really matter."

Irena is biting her nails.

"But Sage Kennedy is ridiculous. I have seen stories about him crashing into his father's yacht when he was supposed to attend his father's funeral. No journalistic ingenuity can make this guy look good."

Peter's face paled as his gaze drifted to the door.

"Mr. Kennedy," he said, gritting his teeth,

"I hope you find a toilet that meets your standards." He’s leaning against the open door.

Her heart pounded as he watched him.

He was still staring at her as he pushed open the doorframe and entered.

"It's a bit ridiculous, but where did I find it?" His voice dropped as he stared at her.

"I—"

He raised his hand.

"Listen, Miss. Derrick. You do not have to like me. You do not even have to talk to me. But what is coming tomorrow has nothing to do with me and will hurt the people whose livelihoods depend on Kennedy Outdoors to stay afloat." He took off his jacket and put it on his arm. "So do you think your journalistic ingenuity could drop to our lowest and save those jobs?"

Heat ran down her spine and into her cheeks. She pursed her lips and nodded.

"I never intended to..."

"Yeah, I think so too." He turned to Peter, "Thanks for being so pleasant. I cannot wait to put all this behind me."

Peter stood up and held out his hand.

They shook hands.

Sage turned and headed for the door. As soon as he was a less inches away from Irena, he stopped. His deep brown eyes met mine. For no good reason, her knees weakened. Her spirit screams for her to run, but she still is rooted to the spot.

"Miss. Derrick, I'll meet you at the airport tomorrow at exactly six o'clock." He stopped and headed for the door.

She nodded. She could not get out.

When he was gone., she turned to Peter, who smiled and said,

"Wow, it would be interesting."