Free Desert of Desire by Wynter Daniels

 
    Chapter One
 
 
Eve Mason emerged from the subway station into the gray New York City daylight and strode the two blocks to the Seven Hundred Building. She took the elevator to the fifth floor, exiting directly in front of the offices of Buzz Magazine.
“Let the stress begin.” She pulled open the glass door.
Lara , the young receptionist reached over the front desk with several small pink papers in her hand. “Messages, Eve.” She pushed the papers into Eve’s hand. “And Jacoby wants to see you in his office ASAP.”
Jacoby never wanted to see her. He always seemed just as pleased as she for her to hide in her windowless cubicle all day, every day.
She leaned into the reception desk and gave Lara her sweetest smile. “I love your top . Is that silk? Great color for you.”
Lara popped a bubble with her gum and folded her arms across her chest. “What do you want?”
The sausage biscuit Eve had eaten on the way to the subway sat in her stomach like a five-ton weight. “Why does he want to see me? Am I in trouble? Did I spell someone’s name wrong in my column?” What had she screwed up now?
Lara shrugged. “ He’s pissed about something. Course, that’s his usual Monday morning mood. He knows you’re here. I buzzed him when I saw you get off the elevator.”
Eve’s smile faded. Great. “I’m going.” She started down the hall toward the double doors all the way at the end. They loomed ahead of her like the gates of Hell. First the rent increase notice slipped under her apartment door, now God knows what at the office. Blood pounded in her ears .
Richard Jacoby, Editor-In-Chief of the magazine, rarely demanded a face-to-face meeting with any of his staff writers. He usually sent blistering emails or texts to show his displeasure.
Why her? She was only the editorial assistant for the Around the Town column. Sucking in a deep breath, she knocked on his door.
“Enter,” he barked.
She fingered the gold doorknob, almost expecting it to be hot. The door jerked open and she stood face to barrel chest with the boss.
“What the hell took you so long? Come in, come in. Have a seat. Can I get you coffee or something?”
Can I get you something?
He’d never offered her so much as a smile. Something was definitely up. Was he planning to fire her? Oh God. What the hell would she do without the job?
“No, th ank you, sir.” She sat in a plush leather chair opposite his desk.
He sank into his massive seat and pinned her with his stare , his bushy eyebrows slanting toward his nose.
She cleared her throat, hoping he’d get to the point so she could make her escape .
He tossed a manila file folder across the desk. “ Beau Calloway. Ever heard of him?”
Eve racked her brain. Could he be a movie star? A New York socialite? The name didn’t register. “Sorry.” She picked up the folder and opened it. A book cover lay on top. “Soul of the Garden,” read the title over a picture of lush greenery.
“Best-selling writer. Nothing I’d read, mind you. Something about making flowers grow anywhere or some crap like that.” He leaned back in his chair.
Eve moved the cover aside and scanned the bio. Author of three best-selling gardening books. She looked at Jacoby. “Is he coming to New York? You want me to cover him for the Around the Town column this month?”
He shook his head. “Normally, I’d give this assignment to Kim Baker. But as you know, she’s on maternity leave. You won’t go getting married and take off three months to spend time with a baby, will you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Fat chance. ” The longest term relationship she’d ever had was with the spider plant her mom had given her when she’d moved into her own place two years ago .
“Glad to hear it.” He shifted in his seat. “This guy’s granted us an interview, which he doesn’t do often. Bit of a recluse. I want a feature story on him.”
She grima ced. Just what she wanted to do— write a story on some gardening guru. “So,