Free Dangerous Curves: Naughty Little Secrets by Melody Banks Page B

would actually turn them in. Of course, I didn’t say this part, though.
    “They’re not unreliable,” Mariah said, fixing me with a look that clearly said, Watch it! “And Samantha’s a friend of mine – friend of a friend,” Mariah amended. “She’s ultra talented. She’ll come through.” She broke into a smile. “But if for some reason she isn’t able to, you know how to handle it, Violet.”
    I sure did. I knew because this exact same thing had happened two weeks ago. We’d been promised an article on “Vegan Cooking on a Dime” from some freelancer Mariah had met a bar – from the way she described it, it sounded like she was more interested in dating the guy than in having him write for us, and had only thrown him the assignment as a means of getting his number.
    She did that kind of thing from time to time. Okay, all the time. Mariah was always out on the prowl, picking up different guys in bars, throwing her title around in an attempt to impress them with her money and power.
    But Samantha was a girl, so unless Mariah had decided to start playing for the other team, I couldn’t figure out what the deal with this chick was. Why was she covering for her?
    Either way, I had a bad feeling about this. If the article didn’t come in – and things weren’t looking so great – then I’d be screwed. Just like last time.
    And it would be all Mariah’s fault – Mariah and her crappy decision-making.
    You see, at most online publications if an article doesn’t get written in time, then you replace it with another article – a substitute, as it were. Simple, right? And these substitute articles come what’s called the magazine’s “articles’ bank.” The articles bank is basically just a folder with a stockpile of articles that aren’t time-sensitive that can be run at the last minute if you get in a bind.
    Mariah does not believe in having an article s’ bank. As a result we’re basically flying by the seat of our pants – if an article doesn’t come in, we’re screwed.  Because we have paid ads that run on our site, it’s not like we can let a column slide for a week – we have to produce new content on a regular basis or else we’ll have to refund our advertisers their money. This does not sit well with a man like Nicholas Colby. As busy as he is, he still makes it a point to check in on our magazine on a regular basis to make sure we’re not losing money.
    “But if for some reason Samantha doesn’t come through, just fill in for her, okay?” Mariah said, dashing out the door.
    Fill in for her.
    As if I could just snap my fingers and produce an article out of thin air. But that was exactly what Mariah was asking me to do. It was what I’d been forced to do two weeks ago, when “Vegan Cooking on a Dime” hadn’t come through. I’d had to wing it, making phone calls well into the wee hours of the night begging chefs around town for last minute interviews. I’d managed to pull it off, producing an article on cheap vegan dishes that had won raves from both upper management and readers alike.
    The ultimate kicker?
    I’d received no credit for it. The credit had gone to “Staff Writer,” instead of Violet Lewis. All that hard work and I hadn’t even gotten my name on the piece.
    Why did I work here again?
    Other than the fact that I have the requisite brown eyes. (Har har.)
    But, seriously, this place would be a dream – if Mariah wasn’t determined to make our work environment such a nightmare.
    Tonight was proving to be no different. As predicted, the freelancer who’d been assigned the “My Naughty Little Secret” column never sent I her piece – nor did she call or e-mail to explain what had happened. I spent two hours trying to reach her to no avail. Finally, I called Mariah.
    “Samantha’s missing in action,” I said flatly. “We’re down one article.”
    “Okay,” Mariah said. “I have a freelancer list on my desk. Make a few calls and see if you can find